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The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 01

By: mandywilluk2000



This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny to me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

I am planning to present the story to Lit in a series of parts over the next few months, so you will have something to read as we go through autumn. I wonder how far we will have got before winter sets in?

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

I really hope you enjoy what may well be my magnum opus and possibly my last submission to Literotica. Do let me know won't you?

*

Chapter 1

Even before Sammi had qualified, she had had doubts as to whether nursing was for her. After qualifying and spending time on the wards of an old, dirty and run down London hospital, those doubts were confirmed. She clearly wasn't cut out for it, well not for typical nursing. 

She couldn't handle the bed pan and being a skivvy aspects, the squalor of the NHS and the stupid wages she got paid. So, with some reluctance, for she is a firm believer in the principal of public health, she ditched her beliefs and joined the private sector. 

She became a contract nurse, a temp I suppose you could call it. She registered with what others told her was the top agency in London; they only take people who pass the exams with flying colours. They also, it seemed to Sammi, when she had been to the office a few times and met numerous colleagues , only took well-presented nurses; the sort of blokes and girls you see in Holby City and Casualty, not the tatty sort you see in real hospitals. After passing the interview, taking loads of tests and being told she had been accepted, she discussed the sort of assignment, as they called them, not work or jobs as ordinary mortals would, she would prefer. At the time Sammi had no real idea what they were on about for she just assumed she would work in a private hospital at higher rates and with better working conditions than in the public sector. As it turned out they handled loads of different types of assignment and, with advice from her "personal career councillor", Emma, it was decided that Sammi would be best suited and happiest working for consultants in their surgeries or in small hospitals.

"Upmarket, stylish ones," she said smiling, trying to appear cool and sophisticated.

"The fortyish, hellishly attractive," Emma, beamed back, her big brown eyes seeming to bore right through the young blonde. "All the hospitals that retain us are er, how did you put it, upmarket and stylish?"

"Ok fine," the blonde muttered, suitably put in my place.

Emma came out from behind her desk and stood behind Sammi. She was in her thirties, maybe even early forties. Dark, beautifully cut, shoulder-length hair, impeccable make-up and wearing a black, stylish power suit with a tight pencil, almost, skirt and a three buttoned jacket showing a deep cleavage, she looked every bit the successful business woman that she was; after all she owned the nursing agency.

"We wouldn't dream of placing such an attractive nurse as you Sammi anywhere that wasn't perfect."

"Really, wow, I see." Sammi mumbled hesitantly, a little embarrassed. 

The older woman rested her hand on the girl's shoulder. Sammi turned her head to look at it and saw a set of perfectly manicured, white-painted, square cut nails resting there.

"No Sammi, your enjoyment of your time with us," she said softly, as she increased the pressure a little, before continuing. "That we hope will be long, is as important as our client's pleasure will be at having you."

Emma was purposefully testing her new contract nurse. She was sending out signals and watching carefully how they would be received. In part it was because she was bi. Not that she would normally risk anything or mar her reputation just for a quick fuck with a young bimbo like Sammi, as welcoming and as appealing as that might be. No, she needed to know, and she got to know about her girls. She got to know everything about each one, over a period, that was her job, that was why the agency was the most popular, most expensive and most successful in its field. That was why her special clients held Emma and her agency in such high regard; she came up with the goods, just as they were needed, time and time again. And in the rarefied atmosphere of top end, international health care that was crucial.

Sammi audibly gulped making Emma suppress a smile. 

"Was she coming onto me?" Sammi thought. "Were the double meanings in everything? Was this a straightforward nursing agency, or was there a hidden agenda?" She began to wonder.

At the time, Sammi was approaching her twenty-fifth birthday. She lived in a flat just off Euston Road with three other girls. Other than the fucking awful nursing at the fucking awful hospitals and the fucking awful wages she earned, things were ok. She couldn't, though, have the lifestyle she wanted on those fucking awful wages. So, unbeknown to anyone, she did some modelling on the side. Glamour photography stuff, mainly for amateur photographic club, but once a week or so she got booked for a one to one. Mainly working "club" evenings she would pose for groups of between four and ten, usually, men in the forties or early fifties. They called the shots telling her how to pose and what to wear. So they took some lingerie shots, her undressing, topless stuff, some nude, open legs and touching even. 

It paid well, but it was becoming more and more difficult to keep that secret, hence, the decision to work on contract. There was, though, another reason Sammi wanted to stop the photographic modelling. When she did the one to one sessions, increasingly, well nearly every time, she was being asked if she did "extras." She didn't, but her resistance was waning. After all spending up to two hours with a guy in various stages of undress, sometimes touching her breasts or, if she felt particularly generous, her pussy, as he said wonderful things about her body and took shots of it, can be quite arousing. As a general rule, the guys that booked her one to one were younger and, slightly, more appealing than the club members. Occasionally, they might even be quite fanciable and that is when she really had problems. She hated herself for it, but Sammi was more and more finding it hard to continue saying that she didn't do extras. Especially when she heard from other models she met who did offer extras that she could probably charge £100 for a few squeezes of her tits and a quick wank. Easy, but dubious money, or was it she sometimes wondered. Higher paid nursing was far more preferable, she had concluded, hence the signing onto the books of Le Crème Nursing Consultancy. 

They had made a big point in their ads and at the group interviews and assessment she had attended about the fact they supplied the uniform. 

"Stylish, sophisticated and bespoke," was how they described it. "Clothes that will make you feel good as well as help your patients," they had explained

Sammi had assumed that differentiated La Crème from the staff of other agencies, in the hospitals and clinics, thus: acting as advertising for them, making the girls feel they were being treated well and meaning that the consultants and small hospitals didn't have to stump up for them. A neat arrangement all round.

"So Sammi, you had better have your fitting, so we can get your tunic made and get you some assignments as soon as possible, hadn't we?" Emma said removing her hands from the nurse's shoulders.

Sammi wasn't quite sure if she felt relieved or disappointed as they left her.

"Er, yes Emma, I suppose we had."

"What are you, size 10?"

"On a good day," 

"Height?"

"Five six"

"Weight?"

"Just over eight and half stone."

She looked up; pushing the reading glasses down her nose and looking over them went on.

"Mmmmm, nice build."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Emma replied holding Sammi's gaze as she added. "And your measurements Sammi?"

Sammi wasn't too sure that she had heard properly or exactly what measurements Emma was referring to, so she took a moment before replying. Emma took over again. Staring deep into Sammi's eyes, she said softly as she dropped her gaze

"Your breasts first."

That word sounded so loaded with meaning. To Sammi, for some reason it reeked of sex; far more so than when the photographers might call out phrases such as, "shove your tits out Sam or, pinch your nipples. Hearing "your breasts" ooze out between the full, deep red lips and the white, even teeth, seemed as stimulating to Sammi as when a man says, "darling I desire you so much, let me fuck you!"

"Er, um 33 b."

"You sure Sammi?" she asked staring at the blonde's boobs. Sammi was wearing a fairly tight top so they were accentuated a bit. "They look a little more like c cup to me," she said making Sammi wonder for a fleeting moment if she was going to ask to see them.

"Well to tell you the truth I find it hard to get a bra the right size, for I really think I am b and a half."

"Anyway," Emma said, again looking up and lifting her reading glasses, but this time staring quite blatantly at the girl's chest. "Whatever, they are they are very nice."

Sammi really felt out of her depth. She had never had a woman talk to her like this, never had a woman of Emma's age, sophistication and beauty come on to her like this if, indeed, that was what Emma was doing. 

"Perhaps in this part of sophisticated London, in the high end health care business this was how things were?" Sammi pondered, but she didn't know and had no idea how to handle this glamorous woman. So she kept quiet as Emma tapped into her PC the 25 inch waist and 34 inch hips measurements that the nurse advised were her sizes.

"Mmmm very nice indeed," she said running her gaze unashamedly up and down Sammi. "Do you know your leg size?"

"No, no idea," Sammi replied.

"That's ok, just stand up then."

"Fuck she's going to measure it. She's going to put her hands on my legs. Bollocks."

And she did. Inside and outside leg. Hip to knee and knee to ankle. She knelt beside Sammi, her jacket gaping, her full, ripe breasts pressed against the nurse's legs. She held the tape on Sammi's waist and ran that down to her heel, right down the raised seam of the jeans.

"Thank Christ I wasn't wearing a skirt," Sammi was thinking as Emma said, a little huskily. 

"Now the inside. Open your legs a little please Sammi."

"Fucking hell," Sammi thought," a woman nearly old enough to be my mum and certainly attractive enough to be a model asking little me to open my legs!"

She did as she was asked. The feeling of the back of the woman's knuckles against her crotch through, fortunately, the thick denim, was as exciting a sensation as the blonde could ever remember. Odd.

Chapter 2

The uniforms were delivered to Sammi's flat by courier a couple of days later.

"Bloody hell Sam," Roni, the shortened version of Veronica, the scouse actress, well the aspiring one, said, as she helped carry the parcels and hanging wardrobes into the main room of the large, but fairly run down flat. "What the hell have they sent you?"

"Hang on let me look at the delivery note."

"Fucking hell, there's three of three types of outfit."

"What?

"Well there's a tunic outfit, with three of them, a trouser and top and a white coat outfit, with three of both of those as well, or so it seems, let's have a look."

They unzipped the hanging wardrobes first. On the hangers in the first one, were three pale blue, with white collar, crisp blouses and three pairs of tailored trousers. In the second there was more of typical nurse's uniform in content, three dark blue dresses and white pinafores and in the third there were simply three, white full length coats. The parcels contained three pairs of shoes, one for each uniform and some more aprons. There were pairs of white and blue flat loafers, and a pair of blue mid height heeled shoes. On them was a ticket. "To be worn with the coat."

"Oh look Sam, there's a note or something." Roni said pointing to an envelope clipped to one of the hanging wardrobes.

Sammi picked it up and glanced at it.

"It explains what they are. Oh I see."

"What?"

"Well they provide uniforms for all the types of work me might do. The dress and pinafore outfit is for ward work, the trousers and blouses for training and reception work and the coat for working in consulting rooms."

"Clever lot of sods aren't they?" Roni snorted, being rather pissed off at Sammi for giving up on her left wing beliefs and becoming as, she put it, a sell out to the fucking Tories.

"It also says to try them on immediately so that any alterations can be arranged today, before my first assignment tomorrow."

"Assignment." Roni sorted, again. "Since when do fucking nurses have fucking assignments? They have jobs not fucking assignments"

"Well," Sammi replied quite used to, and not a bit put off by Roni's outbursts. "You never know, Mr Mike Steven's is by all accounts quite dishy and it might well be that Emma has set me up with a fucking assignment."

"Bollocks, that stuck up cow wouldn't set you up with a fuck with a fanciable guy, she'd have it herself!"

Roni easily took dislikes to people. And she had to Emma after Sammi had recounted the meeting at the consultancy a few days ago.

Sammi went into her room carrying most of the outfits as Roni lit a cigarette and started to make cups of espresso for both of them.

"Jesus fucking hell Sam, you sure this is real nursing tunic and not some form of nurseogram outfit?" Roni said loudly, her mouth wide open as Sam came into the lounge.

As Sammi had put it on and looked at herself in the mirror, she had asked herself the same question. It did seem a little risqué in design. "Men and nurses uniforms," She had smiled as she pirouetted in front of the mirror in the tiny bedroom

Basically, the tunic revolved around a white coat. On the face of it, nothing special. Not until you looked closely. The coat was made from the finest cotton. It fitted like a glove and had silver buttons all the way up the front. Round the waist there was a belt that was about three inches deep. It was the same dark blue as the dress and trousers in the other outfits, the shoes and also of the small epaulettes on the collar of the coat. It was elasticised with a clasp that matched the silver buttons on the coat. It was very tight, if anything too tight, for it drew Sammi's already respectably narrow waist in a little. That accentuated both her averagely sized boobs, but more so, the flare of her hips. Hourglass had come to mind as she had looked at herself in the mirror.

Emma had said that it was company policy that all nursing personnel had to wear white stockings or tights. As she had told Sammi h, she had said softly. 

"Most of us tend to wear stockings Sammi, hold-ups with lacy tops."

Sammi's always fertile and imaginative mind had immediately visualised Emma without the skirt of the power suit, her long, long legs covered in the luxuriant lace and nylon of a pair of holdups. She was sure she had blushed and hoped Emma had not noticed; she had though, for Emma noticed everything to do with her girls, and Sammi was looking to be a very likely prospect of becoming one of Emma's very special girls indeed.

Sammi had slipped the coat on over her panties and tights. The hem of the coat was about three inches above her knee. Thus, when she bent forward or sat down it rode up and something like six to nine inches of her white nylon, covered legs were displayed. "Just right for lacy hold-ups, I don't reckon." She had thought to herself, as she leaned forward, looking back over her shoulder at her bum in the mirror. She was sure that had she been wearing hold-ups the stocking tops would have been on show. "Just right for ageing men's' blood pressures," she smiled.

"Bloody hell Sam," I can see the outline of your thong and most of your tits", the forthright, liverbird said in her Liverpudlian accent, which was most pronounced when she was annoyed, or excited

"You can't can you?" 

"Well not all the time, but when the coat's tight you can."

Sammi moved closer to the mirror and saw what she meant.

When she bent forward the cotton was stretched tight across her bum and she could see quite clearly the outline of the seam of the tights running right down the middle of her bum. She could also see where the thong ran down from the waistband and joined the tights before slipping between her legs. 

"Oh shit," I see what you mean," she replied adding. "I guess that's why, as Emma said, most of the girls wear hold-ups."

"Yeah you wouldn't have any of those ridges or marks then,"

"I'll get some and try it tomorrow."

"I've got some you can borrow, they're black though, but you'll be able to check won't you?"

"Would you mind Ron?"

It was a little embarrassing undoing the coat, taking the white tights off and sliding into Roni's quite sexy, black, lacy topped hold-ups, in front of her. Embarrassing and, if Sammi was honest, quite arousing, for they had snogged and played with each others' tits a couple of times when they had both been pissed and horny, but then don't most twenty something girly mates at some time or the other do that. Or something similar?

With the stockings now on, Sammi started butRoning up the coat.

"Fucking hell Sam, you look amazing like that, you're oozing sex," she said. "look at yourself in the mirror."

Sammi did and saw what she meant. 

The white of the net, see through, bra and thong was set off starkly by the black of the stockings. They were so long that there was only about an inch of skin between their tops and the bottom of her thong. The open coat left everything about her on show, her thighs, her tummy, her pubic mound in the thong, her waist, chest and boobs. The coat hanging open and the contrast of the white and black created a wanton and rather sordid, tarty look that Sammi could see was, as Roni termed it, oozing sex.

"Maybe I should wear the black for work then?" She smiled.

"That would give the patients heart attacks," Roni replied looking at Sammi with an enquiring look on her face.

Their eyes met. They each knew that they would both be thinking pretty much the same; that their minds would have gone back to when they had groped each other on the very settee where Roni was now sitting. Sammi knew that her friend would be recalling the feel of their lips on the other, what their breasts felt like to her touch and the sensations they got from them cupping each others boobs and squeezing and pinching each others nipples. They each knew what the other would be thinking, for it was exactly what they were thinking.

"Oh shit Sammi," she sighed.

"I know Roni," Sammi whimpered back.

"What's happening luv?"

"Bollocks I don't know, but we mustn't."

"No you're right," she said getting up, walking into her room and closing the door.

Sammi went to her own room tingling all over and feeling aroused, but relieved that she and her great friend had resisted going further; it could only lead to a mess. But as she did the coat up and repeated the bending over exercise, she couldn't help wondering just what her friend would probably be doing right now. The vision in her mind of Roni laying on her bed, her jeans pushed down and her hands inside her panties between her legs, was very stirring indeed and it took a strong resolve by Sammi not to rush to Roni's room and bang on the door.


The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 01



The view in the mirror was much better. It was cleaner cut and smoother without the tights. But, there was still the clear outline of the thong. The highest quality Egyptian cotton, whilst wonderful to the touch and great to look at, is thin and becomes almost see through when stretched. And the coat had been made to such tight margins that it was stretched in most places, especially across Sammi's small breasts and womanly rounded bum. Two alternatives she thought. A thinner thong or this she pondered, removing the garment, pulling the coat down and again bending forward. The look was fine; no unsightly lumps, seams, or bumps. Smooth as a baby's bottom, she thought smiling. Could she really go to work commando though? Could she I spend all day without panties? God it did feel sexy though, she thought as she walked round the small room imagining she was in a consulting room working with the Mr Mike Stevens who had already taken on glamorous proportions in her mind.

It took a week or so for the agency to process everything.

"How are you set for Monday?" Emma asked down the phone the following Friday.

"Great, nothing on at all."

"Mmmmm what a thought, the mind boggles," Emma said.

"No, I didn't mean I was naked, I meant."

"Yes luv, yes I know I was just joking with you."

She gave Sammi the details, said it would be confirmed by e-mail and told her to be there at 7.30 sharp on Monday morning. Just as she put the phone down she heard the ping of the e-mail arriving. Hmmm pretty damn efficient she thought.

Chapter 3

He had never been to Saudi before. He had done some consulting work in Qatar and Bahrain and had been to Dubai on holiday a couple of times, but had never had reason to visit the main country in the Middle East, Saudi Arabia. And from what he had heard he wasn't looking forward to it. What with the restrictions on women, no booze and the lack of practicality any form of entertainment: cinemas, theatres, pubs, bars and clubs and its seemingly excessively harsh laws, it really had little attraction for him. Other than one that is, yes there was one thing driving him to come here. Money. There was plenty of that in this oil rich, tax free kingdom and some of it had been half-promised to him.

Mike Stevens was trying to put a deal together to open a private clinic in Berkshire, England. He was sure that the revolutionary approach he and a couple of colleagues had developed to treat deep rooted psychotic disorders and neuroses would be a success. He had it all worked out, the location, the key staff, the marketing and the treatment processes. His financial projections modestly, he and his accountant felt, indicated a break even after two years, a million profit in year three and then just upwards and onwards after that. The only problem was that he needed nearly twenty million sterling to get it up and running. 

His partner Claire, a barrister who specialised in corporate law, had introduced him to some German financiers she had met during a deal she worked on. They were solid people, with reasonable backing and, Claire had found out during the deal, a healthy attitude towards sex. In her terms, that meant when the business was finished, she got fucked. And most nights when the deal was being completed that is exactly what she and Korlen Gunter, the guy to whom she had introduced her partner of ten years, did in the Intercontinental hotel in Düsseldorf. 

Mike and Claire had met with Korlen several times. It was particularly interesting for Claire to sit in on the meetings, lunches and dinners in both Düsseldorf and London, with two men she had slept with; Mike, her lover of ten years, and Korlen her lover of hardly more than ten minutes. Obviously, the German knew that Mike was shagging her. What intrigued, but didn't concern her particularly, for her relationship with Mike was pretty open, was whether Mike felt she had slept with Korlen.

As it turned out, Korlen and his private equity group were stretched at the time. "Well the German economy is a bit fucked at the moment," he had said, looking right at Claire as the word fucked slipped through his lips, making her almost giggle. He had agreed, though, that they would come in with five mil, but no more. 

"I do know some people, though that are big in health care and are just dripping with money, who might be interested in this." Korlen had said, as his foot pressed on Claire's under the table in Claridges where they were dining one evening

"Really, going to tell me who?" Mike asked sliding a slither of monkfish that must have cots about five pounds into his mouth.

"Just one problem, in some ways, they are Saudi, quite near to the royal family actually."

"What's the problem?"

"Saudis are so difficult to deal with. They take ages to make their minds up, change it often and then decide something completely different."

"But they have the money?" Mike asked.

"Oh yes the al Korensi family is close to the King and was granted the contract to run most of the hospitals in Riyadh and Jeddah. They have the money ok. The problem is the old man Abdullah who we have always dealt with is on his last legs and his two sons, both in their twenties are starting to run the business, and they are unknown quantities.

After having several meetings had been set up and cancelled in London and one in Berlin, Mike understood perfectly what Korlen was talking about. There just wasn't the urgency or organised approach that European and English business relied on about them. An appointment in a diary was only good until something more attractive, such as a grand prix, a horse race in Australia or polo in Argentina, came up, then it was ditched; no apology, no explanation.

Korlen did manage to organise one meeting, though, and Mike had felt it went well. He had given them a presentation and was quite impressed by the questions the two young men asked at the Dorchester Hotel where they were staying. He had followed that up with a detailed proposal, but had heard nothing for some time until this invitation to visit them.

"That must be good news for Mike, isn't it?" Claire asked as she climbed down from the front seat of the black Range Rover and got into the back.

"Probably, but you never know, they might just be using it to impress dad," Korlen said, joining her there and immediately cupping one of her large breasts in his hand.

They had both found an attraction to having sex in places where there was a danger of being caught. Hence, they were in car park in woods near to Elstree where Korlen had a small mews type house. That gave them, and especially Claire, the double whammy of fucking in a car park and doing it close to where his wife lived.

And fuck they did. They didn't undress, though, and in some ways, keeping her loose baggy dress on, but having Korlen remove her bra and panties, made it all the more exciting. Especially, when at one time the dress was bundled up round her neck and his cock was between her breasts that she was holding together to make a surrogate cunt for him to fuck.

It was a particular turn on for Claire to go home to the house she shared with Mike in Islington, with her bra and panties in her bag and her breasts still sticky from where she hadn't washed away all of Carlen's spunk. 

Mike was impressed and depressed by Saudi in about equal measures. It was far more modern, clean and friendly than he imagined, but at the same time, the heat, the crowds, the bartering and the absence of, what was it, fun, he decided.

He had been booked into a very swish hotel in Riyadh, near to the new government buildings and embassies and had to kick his heels there as Korlen's contact, Brahim a Lebanese, set up the meeting; nothing as simple, Mike frowned, as agreeing a time and just having the meeting. Oh no, one party he was suppose to meet was in Jeddah and the other in Yanbu, to which either town the meeting might be switched. He had phone call after call with Brahim and Korlen, both of whom telephonically shrugged their shoulders as it say, "Well this is Saudi and that's how it is out here."

After four of the most frustrating days of his life and just when he was about to give up and go home, he got a positive call. He was sitting by the men only pool, the women had one too, at the hotel when Brahim called to say there was going to be a meeting at the Prince Banda military Hospital at eight this evening.

"With one of the al Korensis?" He asked.

"Maybe, but unlikely, one of their aides probably, a trusted one, though, so it's a very positive step, he will decide whether they should see you or not."

"How?"

Mike heard Brahim laugh down the phone. "Only Allah and the al Korensis know that."

"Gee thanks."

As it happened the meeting went well. At the end of it, after he had suffered the embarrassment of having to sit in an office when the aide went into another room and without shutting the door gave prayers to Allah kneeling on the floor, he was asked to wait.

"This is Mike Stevens," the aide said from behind him.

Mike turned and saw and old, frail man.

"This is Sheikh Abdullah," the aide said.

The meeting didn't last more than five minutes, but it was, Mike realised with excitement, with the top man.

Abdullah was polite yet businesslike, but, Mike felt with a degree of frustration, not that well informed on the clinic project. Still, he rationalised, there was some movement and hope, especially when he said.

"My sons should be available within a couple of days to meet with you, but in the meantime I would like you to meet our consultant on such matters."

He told Mike that he would be called at his hotel and the meeting would happen tomorrow, sometime, maybe, if not the next. Getting used to the Middle Eastern "manyana" habits, he took that with a pinch of salt. 

Naked, following his third shower of the day, Mike called Claire. 

"Bollocks, where the fuck is she?" He wondered, leaving a message for her to call him, stressing, only if she returned within the next hour, aware that the UK was three hours behind Saudi and he didn't want to be woken in the middle of the night, if she was out on one of her jaunts. "I wonder who she is fucking at the moment?" He thought, as he had a pee and flicked through the channels of mind numbing boredom on the TV.

"I am imagining you sucking Sammi's tits." Claire said down the phone, no more than twenty minutes later after they had chatted for a minute or two and Mike had asked what she was doing.

"What?"

"Yes she has that white coat on, it's open and she is naked underneath."

"Where did that come from?" Mike asked.

"Just the pits of my filthy mind."

"Yes so I see."

"See, you mean hear, don't you?"

"Well yes of course, sorry."

"Want to hear more?"

"What, about Sammi?"

"Yes, want to hear what I am imagining you doing to her?"

"Sure, why not? Actually yes I would love to."

"Where are you?" Claire asked.

"In my bedroom."

"In bed?"

"No on it?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Nothing."

"Mmmmmm, how delicious, are you hard?"

"No, not yet."

"Do you want to be?"

"Why yes, that would be nice. What are you wearing?"

"Absolutely fuck all, I'm completely naked, I took everything off when I decided to call you."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I want to have phone sex, I want to fuck you over the phone."

"How?"

"How would you like me to fuck you?"

"Anyway you want." Mike said, his hand, as if guided my some form of sexual arousal instrument, going to his cock that was now starting to harden.

"I'm playing with my tits, Mike, just as you do and just as my mind is imagining you playing with Sammi's."

"Are your nipples hard?"

"Mmmmm, wonderfully so," Claire replied pulling first one and then, after she switched the phone to loudspeaker, both at the same time. "God I wish you were chewing them Mike," she went on recalling that little under an hour ago that was precisely what Korlen had been doing, as they stood in a shop doorway in Highgate Road.

Mike's cock was growing quickly. He stroked it.

"God C, I'm getting hard so quick."

"How hard are you?"

"Very hard now," Mike replied looking down and seeing that his erection had reared all the way up his flat belly almost to his naval.

"Are you hard enough to fuck me?"

"Yes Claire well hard enough to do that."

"Well fuck me then, bend me over and fuck me, make me cum. Wank yourself Mike."

"I am you stupid bitch," he muttered as his hand started to pump faster. "You do it as well."

"I am listen."

"Oh fuck yes," Mike blurted out as he heard the buzz of her vibrator.

"I'm doing my tits first Mike, each nipple then each tits, Ok"

"Mmmm wonderful."

They had never had phone sex before, but then they were never parted for very long so this was different.

"Now its on my clit, is that what you want."

"Yes let me suck you clit, let me lick it and suck it."

"Are you wanking hard."

"Very hard."

"Good, do it faster."

He did. "What about you, Claire?"

"I am just about to shove this vibrator right up my cunt and pretend it's your cock fucking me," she lied, for it was her German lover that was in her mind. It was him, for he had sucked her tits, shoved his hand up her skirt and fingered her, but hadn't fucked her and that had left her feeling extraordinarily horny when she arrived back at there house just ten minutes ago, her panties still wet. Hence, wanting to phone fuck her long-term live in partner.

"Shove it up," Mike croaked also feeling extraordinarily randy as he now, very quickly rubbed his cock. "Hurry C, you've made me feel so fucking horny I'll cum soon."

"So will I," Claire answered truthfully, the memory of Korlen's mouth on her tits and fingers up her pussy and the buzzing, throbbing vibrator in her cunt, sending her quickly towards the promised land of orgasmic delight that she so needed to visit.

"Aaaaaargh," Mike groaned. "You've done me you bitch I'm cumming."

"Good, cum, Mike, cum with me, I am cumming right now."

"Yes you horny bitch," he moaned as her felt his balls tighten and cock shudder as they got ready to do their primary job, well after peeing that is.

"Cum on my tits, cum On Sammi's tits," Claire grunted as her cunt seemed to catch fire and her tits seemed about to explode.

"On both tits, I'm cumming on yours and Sammi's tits."

"Yes my big, fat tits, Sammi's little small ones."

"Claire's huge soft titties and Sammi's pert, firm tits," Mike grunted as his cock exploded. "I've cum."

"So am I, so am I," Claire moaned as she held the throbbing vibrator as far up her as she could and, at the same time, roughly and furiously in the throes of her climax, squeezed the soft flesh of her big tits.

"Oh yes," Mike sighed as his sperm shot up his body, one globule hitting his chin, the rest splashing over his chest.

*

Keep checking my submissions to Lit for the next part of this series. In that, Sammi meets her doctor, they lust after each other, she goes to work commando, finds out about the job, and gets it on with her flatmate Roni.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 02



This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny to me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

I am planning to present the story to Lit in a series of parts over the next few months, so you will have something to read as we go through autumn. I wonder how far we will have got before winter sets in?

If you have come straight to this part, I would strongly suggest you read Part 1 first.

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

I really hope you enjoy what may well be my magnum opus and possibly my last submission to Literotica. Do let me know won't you?

Chapter 1

"Hello," Sammi said to the male receptionist at the ultra smart, small hospital in Bedford's Way just off Harley Street. "I am here to see Mr Mike Stevens, it is mister and not doctor isn't it?"

"Please take a seat; I will let his office know you are here, your name please? Yes he's far above being a mere doctor, but I'm never quite sure about these bullshit medical terms," he said flashing a set of amazingly white teeth at Sammi.

"Sammi, Sammi Cannock, well nurse Cannock I suppose," she replied.

"You have an appointment, I assume?" the dusky skinned, outrageously good looking guy said.

"Yes, I have my agency papers, and was asked to meet him here this morning," 

"Wonderful, my name is Cal, and if you have any questions while you are here, I'm the one to ask," Cal said looking Sammi up and down, rather flirtatiously and, in many ways, probably inappropriately, but nevertheless quite flatteringly. 

As Sammi learned later, this was quite a common occurrence for Cal. He was of Pakistan background and came from a moneyed family. He liked to think, not unjustifiably either, that he looked like Imran Khan, when he was younger of course. He was very lazy and thus disappointed his family considerably by being a receptionist. To him, though, it was fine, for it meant he didn't start that early, thus enabling him to going clubbing several night s a week, and he met an almost endless stream of young women. And they were his total passion in life, he lived to fuck and fucked to live, he often told his mates and sometimes the nurses he was trying to conquer as well.

"Mr Stevens will be VERY pleased to see YOU" he replied, the emphasis not lost on Sammi, although it did rather surprised her for nothing like this happened in the NHS; they never had cool, dishy, young male receptionists.

Cal had arranged the chairs in the waiting area so that wherever any of the nurses sat, he would be able to see their legs. Not only was he a real player, but he also was an avid voyeur. His day was made when a girl leaned forward a little too much and he caught a glimpse of her bra. It was equally made when sometimes he would see the top of a uniform, perhaps a blouse, stretched tight across a pair of full breasts so that he saw the outline of a hardened nipple. But mostly it was made, as it was being made now by looking at the girls' legs, as he was looking at Sammi's legs, as he was looking up her skirt that had slithered up her thighs as she sat. She had good legs and like all of the nurses from La Crème she was wearing white tights, or stockings, Cal was pondering as he thought how attractive all the girls seemed to be that came from that nursing agency. They were always better looking, with nicer figures and a sexier appearance than most of the nurses and technicians from other agencies; not once had he seen a dumpy, ugly or plain La Crème nurse and he often wondered why.

The door beside Cal opened and out strode a tall man who Sammi assumed was the consultant. He was dressed in an immaculate navy suit and a pink shirt with gold cufflinks and a silk, blue and pink tie, striped tie. He was gorgeous and relaxed yet so sophisticated.

Cal stood up and walked over to him. Sammi was surprised at how familiar he was.

"Hi Mike, this is Sammi. Nurse Cannock, this is Mr Stevens."

"Hi, nice to meet you", he said in a pleasant, nicely modulated voice that had a touch of poshness about it, but not offensively so like, for instance, Prince Charles. He held his hand out.

"Oh hi, yes thanks, yes thank you, nice to meet you too," Sammi bumbled back, rather hurriedly and a little breathlessly. She was always shy when meeting people for the first time, particularly men, particularly attractive men, particularly older men and particularly doctors. And Mike Stevens was all of those. And on top of that his piercing blue eyes seemed to simply bore into hers as the soft, smooth skin of his hand shook hers.

Standing up, holding her handbag, briefcase and introduction folder and putting down her cup of coffee and The Independent newspaper, Sammi was flustered and dropped the paper. It hit the table and knocked over the cup that Sammi bent down to try to catch.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," she stammered as the coffee drained across the glass table soaking into the other newspapers. Cal rushed over with paper towels and mopping the coffee up he was rewarded with a great view down the front of the tight, white coat that was the hallmark of nurses from La Crème.

"Fuck me, she's got smashing tits and a lovely white lace bra," he said to himself looking up at Mr Stevens and smiling for he saw that he too had seen exactly what Cal had. 

"Don't worry Sammi," Cal said.

"Thanks a lot Cal, I really am sorry to put you to such bother."

"No problem, you can repay me later," he grinned running his gaze very obviously up and down the blonde nurse's body. "Any way you like actually."

Sammi couldn't help smiling at the kid's, as she thought of him for she rarely dated anyone under thirty, bottle, but didn't respond for Mr Stevens had moved across and was standing right next to her and Cal.

They both looked at her. She stared back from one to the other not knowing what to do or think. She bent down again to collect her stuff that she had dropped onto the chair when she spilt the coffee. She could feel the boy's and the man's eyes on her. The boy's down her top, the man's at her bottom. The boy's on her tits, the man's on her arse. The boy's seeing her new white M & S bra, the man seeing the outline of her ultra thin, newly bought, Lejaby thong. 

Although it was probably only for seconds, it seemed an age that she was between them being inspected, almost roasted, she thought. It made her feel on edge. She couldn't understand why, but it also aroused her. It made her warm, well hot really, she knew she would be blushing; she always did when she was turned on. Lurid thoughts, for some reason were shooting through her mind at an incredibly fast pace.

Her coat was off.

She wasn't wearing a bra or a thong under it, just white hold-ups.

Mike S was behind her, Cal in front. She was leaning back against the Doctor. Cal was playing with her tits. Just as if adjusting the dials on a radio, she smiled, acknowledging his enthusiasm, but relishing his loveliness as she gazed at his dusky, naked body and huge, stiff cock that he had pressed into her hand.

She wiggled her bum and the older man pressed forward so that her back rubbed against his chest. That was nice. It was nicer though when his equally hard and probably just as long, but less thick cock than Cal's, nestled between the cheeks of her bum.

"I'm so glad you have turned up, we have a lot to get through today, our last nurse let us down badly, that's why we switched agencies, come in lets have a quick chat." The doctor said drawing Sammi away from her reveries.

As Cal tidied up the table and Sammi followed the doctor, she had a quick glance down at her chest. She felt tremendous relief when there were no lumps or signs of her nipples hardening. That was something that embarrassed her so often that she had given half-serious thought to getting advice as to why hers were seemingly so much more sensitive and reactive than other girls. Luckily, they were behaving themselves today she thought.

She followed him into a sumptuous office, if you could call it that. It was more like a suite. In front of floor to ceiling, large bay window sat a huge, glass topped desk with brushed aluminium legs behind which was black leather, very modern. In front of the desk were two less ostentatious chairs, presumably for patients.

Off to one side there was a couch and a couple of easy chairs, around a coffee table, and to the other, a screen that only partially hid an examining table with an array of instruments to one side. On the cursory glance she was able to give as she walked across the room, Sammi was surprised to count four PCs, littered around the room. The walls were bedecked with paintings, some of which Sammi seemed to recall from her art teachings at school.

The overall style was modern minimalist. Everything was in browns, golds and charcoals. The look was expensive, leading edge, high tech, yet relaxing and comfortable.

"Take a seat Sammi," he said pointing to one of the chairs in front of the desk

Mike chose to perch himself on the edge of the desk in front of Sammi, rather than taking the 

more formal seat behind it. Surveying the young blonde in front of him, he was impressed. She looked every bit as good as La Crème had promised. He was pleased he had changed agencies. Emma was clearly as professional as she was persuasive. Although he had met her several times in connection with the new clinic, he hadn't used her agency until now, but he had heard good things about it. They had, so they claimed and the references he had taken up on the phone, confirmed, a unique approach to nurse sourcing, as they termed it. An approach Emma had described, as she sat exactly where Sammi was, that was in keeping with today's sophisticated and assuring top of the range health care industry, one that dispensed with the badly dressed, poorly presented, traditional nurse. One that provided the brightest, the most sophisticated, the most attractive and, simply the best, Consultants' Assistants that there was in the country. 

Mike remembered very clearly how Emma, leaning forward and reaching her hand out to shake his, when he confirmed that he would use La Crème for his vacancy, displayed her deep cleavage and a goodly proportion of her nicely, full breasts had breathed. "I promise you won't be disappointed in me Mike."

And so far he wasn't. Sammi was gorgeous, her qualifications and references were outstanding, she looked polished, although perhaps a little clumsy, she was clearly stylish, educated, erudite and keen to do well and she had one of the nicest arses he had seen for ages

The nurse's dress had a lot of style, although Mike was slightly concerned on, how could he describe it, how modernly revealing it was. It showed Sammi's curves off to perfection, and Mike could see that she was not wearing a lot underneath. Probably just the minimum, he thought, his mind wandering back to the outline of the tiny thong and the stocking tops he had seen when she had bent over in the reception area. He wondered if all the Assistants looked like Sammi and dressed as she did, concluding that they must and that they had to be coached by La Crème to do that. He wondered how Emma did that and would loved to have been at one of the coaching sessions

Years of examining young women, well any aged women really, had given Mike the skill to read a woman's curves. He was pretty sure that Sammi was wearing expensive, ultra thin lingerie that was designed to "vanish" to give the appearance of the wearer being naked under their outer garments. As his gaze swept discretely, but not so much that the younger woman didn't notice it, over her body, he concluded that the lingerie had achieved its objective. 

Perched on the desk, one foot on the ground, the other off the floor, his legs open, Mike looked at Sammi. In his mind the coat had gone and indeed she was naked under it for he could see her pert, 33b, he guessed boobs, her flat tummy and the merest whisps of tawny pubic hair on her prominent pubic mound. He felt that slight itchiness in his balls that was the forerunner and the clear indication of an impending erection.

"Sammi, I very much appreciate you being on time, our first patient is at 9am so we have a little time for me to introduce you to our clinic" Mike continued, "and in front of patients please call me Doctor, although I'm quite happy for you to call me Mike after hours, and I'll do likewise, Nurse, if that's ok, Sammi?". 

Mike looked down and smiled. Sammi looked a little nervous but then that was to be expected on her first day.

"Yes of course Doctor." The nurse replied, but then with an impish grin added, "And Mike."

"You know that I am a psychiatrist dealing with people that are troubled with neuroses that are often very deep rooted."

"Yes I do doctor and I specialised in psychiatry in my final year. I got a distinction, preferring that to obstetrics."

"Hmmm, right, good, that's great," Mike flustered, his mind more drawn to her distinctive tits than exam attainments. 

"I am of the Freud school rather than Jung, if that means much to you nurse."

"So you are more into psychoanalysis and delving deep into their backgrounds?"

"Yes, good, that's correct."

"And you believe that many, or even most neuroses are based on sexual difficulties."

"I see why you got a distinction, well done, that's precisely the way I practice. I need you to understand that Sammi, for you will be in the treatment room with me with every patient and you will hear some pretty lurid stuff from both men and women."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"I do have to warn you though, that under some drugs that we need to administer to free up some peoples' minds, they do get rather excitable and imaginative and I must tell you that is why I need to have an attractive nurse."

"I don't understand."

"No I guess you don't, sorry. Let me be blunt, ok?"

Sammi had no idea what was coming next, but the more time she spent with him, despite the topic being rather intimate the more relaxed she felt. That, though, was quite the opposite with Mike, for the longer he was perched there, his leg dangling, his cock hardening, the more bizarre became his thoughts about his stunning young nurse. 

In simple terms, he fancied her like hell and wanted to fuck her. To fuck her right here and now. And that was so unlike him. Although he was as virile and up for sex as most men, well actually more than most if he were honest, which he wasn't very often as far as sex was concerned, he had always been able to restrict those feelings and those sort of activities, to outside his work. He'd never had any sort of relationship with a colleague and although he had been unfaithful many times to Claire, his long-term lawyer partner, and suspected that she also had her flings, they now lived like a happily married couple.

"Some of them under the influence of the drugs may well have thoughts about you."

"How do you mean?"

"Well they might imagine that you are their partner now or in the past and, of course, they might well fancy you and talk in that vein when under sedation."

Sammi looked into his eyes and felt a little jerk. Well two actually that rapidly became more. The first was in her chest, she avoided acknowledging heart, the second was in her pussy and from there it rapidly spread through her breasts and body. Then she did know that her nipples were, as usual, reacting. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she thought, hunching her chest a bit hoping to avoid them showing.

"I'm sure we'll cope Doctor."

By now Sammi was starting to feel relaxed and was appraising Mike in a bit more detail. He was handsome, warm, looked pretty fit for his age, which she put in his mid, even maybe late, forties, had lovely blue eyes that looked deep inside you and beautiful hands. Sammi couldn't recall noting a man's hands before, but they were well proportioned, elegant, strong and well manicured. It didn't help those jerks, the warmth rushing through her body or the hardening of her nipples when she imagined those beautiful hands on her small breasts.

He was dressed well, and his accoutrements were all of the highest quality. The suit, shirt and shoes were all expensive, maybe bespoke, and his aftershave smelled, sexy and exclusive and screamed, "I'm pricey!" Overall, he gave off an air of assured and relaxed confidence and maturity. What he didn't know was that Sammi had a thing about older guys, and she had noted the lack of a wedding ring.

'Hmmm, maybe he's not attached' thought Sammi. Her thoughts beginning to wander but were drawn back by Mike's continuation.

"We run a clinic for people who are, in one way or another, dysfunctional, or at least they feel they could be. They have difficulty coping with the real world and many live in a fantasy one," he was saying, but thinking "yes a fantasy one where a forty-five year old doctor can rip the clothes off his twenty-four year old nurse and fuck her across his desk, between patients, or with them looking on come to that.

With a struggle he went on. 

"But we also help people discover ways of coping and adjusting, we give them techniques that they can then take back into their relationships." He paused before, almost, but not quite adding, "Like I would like to take you into my relationship and fuck you as you suck Clair's big tits."

Sammi saw him struggle to form his words and wondered just what was going on in his head. She had tried to avoid looking at Mike's crotch, but as it was only a few feet from her face, was level with her mouth and it did seem to be staring right at her, that was impossible. 

"Was that really his erection developing?" She asked herself, several times.

"Most of our patients are women and aged between 35 and fifty, although we do also take men, but they generally seem to be more reluctant to discuss such personal matters. As I said many, and I am afraid to say, especially my female patients can be rather dramatic and overact, so I need you in addition to your assistant duties to act as a chaperone."

"Really?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Why?"

"Well practically every consultant psychiatrist regularly gets accused of unprofessional conduct." Mike paused before adding. "With women, I'm sure you understand, Sammi."

"Oh I see," Sammi replied, half hoping that he would get up to some unprofessional conduct with her.

"I will apprise you of each case before we start and any history there is of making such allegations, you see many of these ultra rich women have been under treatment by other psychiatrists for years."

"Right," Sammi offered, not knowing quite what right meant in the context she had just used it.

"Let me just explain how I like to work. OK?"

"Of course."

"Each morning we will have a meeting and review the day's cases, perhaps over coffee and a croissant, or whatever, we have full kitchen facilities here. And by the way you can have whatever meals you want, a perk of the job, I often eat dinner here and if you wish you can join me for I like to run through the day before we finish. Is that ok?"

"Yes of course it is."

Mike smiled at her, making her knees feel wobbly and her tits go hot. 

"Emma did advise you of the hours didn't she?"

"She said they would usually be long."




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 02



"They will be, most days twelve hours, eight to eight, but only four days usually."

"That's ok I don't live far from here. I could almost walk it."

"Well if you are into power-walking or running you can always shower here," he said pointing to a door in one wall. 

"I'll bear that in mind," Sammi said, thinking that she might just do that and "inadvertently" forget to lock the door.

"So that's about it for now, ready to start?" he asked, easing himself up from the desk and standing over Sammi.

"Why, of course Doctor, I'm looking forward to getting started," she replied, also standing and affording Mike another great view of her tits down the front of the tunic, which gaped as she leaned forward. "Who is our first patient?" She asked, aware of what she was flashing and that he was looking.

Chapter 2

"Her name is Ms Eleanor Richards, but she prefers to be known as Ellie, at least to me but she may prefer you to address her as Ms Richards, we'll see. This is Ms Richards second session and in the first one we covered her sexual history. It's all contained here in her files, and I would like you to 

familiarise yourself with them before she arrives at nine, Mike said, handing Sammi the file. Sammi took her leave, grabbed a coffee from the impressive looking Italian Espresso machine and found a comfortable chair in the Nurse's staff room and began to read.

It seemed that Ellie was 39 and married to a stockbroker, 'hence how she can afford an expensive clinic like this" Sammi thought. She had no children and seemingly wasn't interested but she was concerned at her waning sex life. She had begun socialising with a new crowd recently and a couple of the 

women had opened her eyes to a sexual world that was entirely new to her, a world that involved 'free' relationships, illicit affairs, bisexual behaviour and even group sex. Not wishing to seem a prude, Ellie had gone along with the chat with these women, feigning privacy when she was asked to 

contribute her own lurid tales.

But it seemed that the coffee mornings were having an effect on Ellie. Since she wasn't blessed with a husband with a high sex drive (he was always too tired), and that she had married as a virgin, she was finding out that she really had missed out on the sexual front. After confiding in a close friend 

she had been referred to Dr Stevens and had nervously approached her first 

session.

Before Sammi could read on, Cal poked his head into the room, "Can I get you anything Sugar?" 

Sugar! Thought Sammi, bloody cheek.

"No thanks, Cal, I'm fine" she said, smiling back at him, quite enjoying his easy flirting way. He lingered for a moment taking in Sammi's crossed legs where he swore he could see the top of a stocking. 

'God, I could do a lot for that girl' he thought, and left the room with an image of himself on his knees in front of Sammi, as he massaged her feet and heels before bringing his hands higher up under her dress to discover if she really was wearing stockings...

Strangely, Sammi was having similar thoughts, imagining Call naked at her feet, while she remained dressed, as he worked his hands and athletic body up her legs toward her dripping pussy. She imagined this happening as Dr Stevens appeared at the door, pausing momentarily to slip into the room and watching as the scene unfolded before him.

And imagination, it appeared, was the issue for Ms Richards. Not the lack of it, but how to control it, since she was finding herself day dreaming of all manner of wild sexual experiences, and this had led her to becoming aroused at the slightest suggestion of sex. She had started looking at other men, and, shockingly to her, other women too. Her weekly visit to the Tennis club had her almost foaming at the mouth to get her hands lips and pussy around the bare naked and tanned limbs and torsos. She had feigned an injury just so that she could get out of her doubles match. She and her partner Thierri had been losing badly, but she just couldn't keep her eyes off Thierry's hot butt as he moved about the court. All she could think about was having her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands grabbing the cute butt as he thrust his long hard cock into her. If that wasn't bad enough, she was faced over the net by Thierry's gorgeous, blonde girlfriend, and her tennis coach, Phil, an older but very sexy hunk. She was imagining all three of them in 

bed together, and after the first set was feeling very weak at the knees and if nothing else had to get off the court to change her sopping wet pants.

The detail of the report had engaged Sammi's attention in a way like no other, and she was beginning to conjure up similar images, and finding herself getting quite flushed, imagining this middle aged, respectable woman, becoming a limp rag of desire. She was looking forward to how Mike Stevens intended to help her. 

At that moment, Cal appeared at the door and told her that she was needed in Dr Stevens's office. As she went through the door that Cal held open for her, he used it as an excuse to squeeze up 

against the nurse as she brushed passed. This didn't go unnoticed by Sammi who chose that moment to brush her hip over the front of Cal's bulging chinos. Cal was already hard, but then he seemed to spend most of the day like it, and returned to his desk thinking how good Sammi would look bent over it, 

Sammi knocked on the consulting room door and entered. She wasn't prepared for what greeted her for Mike was embracing Ms Richards. As she walked in they released each other. She felt she had interrupted something but wasn't sure, at least until she glanced at the front of the psychiatrist's stylishly, quite tight suit trousers and saw an impressive bulge. 

"Bloody hell" she thought, "It's barely nine in the morning and already I have had wild thoughts about two work colleagues, got a soaking wet gusset from reading a case history and am in a room with a Doctor and a budding nymphomania, what will I be like by the end of the day?

"Ms Richards, please meet Nurse Cannock, Sammi, our newest recruit, and a specialist in the 

sort of behavioural issues we will be exploring." Mike continued. "Sammi will 

be with us for the session and will be helping me understand a bit more 

about the sorts of fantasies you are having, and how we might explore and 

control them, but still retain the pleasure, and of course, your marriage" 

said Mike smiling.

Sammi and Ellie were looking at each other. It was almost as if they were rivals and were sizing each other up, which maybe in some ways they were. 

Ellie, at nearly forty, could have passed easily for thirty five and, at a push, for thirty. She was slim, tanned and brunette; her hair being coloured in the fashionable nearly ginger, her skin the equally fashionable, though rather absurd, nearly orange tone. Her hair was cut in a bob, her neck being shaved, a long wave almost permanently it seemed falling over her forehead. She walked like a cat, gently and with the swaying hips that comes with someone who is sexually confident. 

Shaking himself from his thoughts "Shall we begin?"

"Why yes Doctor, where do you want me"

Chapter 3

Sammi's mind was reeling a bit, well not a bit, a lot, well more than that really. But then it had been since the interview with Emma at La Crème. Everything about this new world of nursing that she had moved into surprised and confused her. That so far, it also excited and, she had to admit, aroused her, just made her mind reel even more.

Emma's rather blatant come on at the interview had started it. She had clearly indicated to Sammi that more than a job interview was on offer, if Sammi wished. Had it not been an assessment Sammi might well have accepted that offer. Her concern at getting the job outweighed her sexual temptations, however, so she had most definitely kept her knickers on.

The outfit was the next element in her reeling. It was so overtly erotic that looking at herself in the mirror almost made her cum. She had also resisted that, though, well when wearing the outfit that is, but it hadn't stopped her quickly undoing the coat, slipping it off then frigging herself to several quick and very satisfying climaxes.

Roni's reaction, her providing the black stockings and the sight of Sammi in those and the open coat still came into the blonde's mind frequently, adding even more reeling. As did the memories of so nearly having sex with her flatmate, again. 

Cal, his reaction to her, the opulence of the clinic, and the sophisticated sexual approach of the attractive doctor all made her mind reel more and more and more. 

Seeing him and the first patient embracing, Ellie Richard's easy approach to her, her beauty and earthy sexiness all confused, worried, surprised and amazed the young blonde nurse.

Mike Stevens was one of the most successful emotional and sexual neuroses treatment psychiatrists in London. Well he thought he was. His employers at the clinic knew he was, but would not acknowledge that to him. They insisted that the early forties doctor needed more experience and used this as a reason to restrict his salary that they had pegged at a very respectable, but nevertheless, well under top consultant market rate, of £200,000.

They also insisted that he broaden his scope of work and thus required him to treat patients with all manner of psychiatric problems and not those that especially interested him. That was why, unbeknown to his employers, he was doing two things.

Seeing patients that they knew nothing about, such as Elizabeth Richards, and was establishing his own clinic that would specialise totally in sexually dysfunctional men and women. He had already bought a fairly isolated house in the country near Windsor that was currently being refurbished and turned into a residential clinic of the highest order and luxury. But then the clients, for whom he had just started advertising, would expect nothing less than that for they would be paying around a £1000 a day just to be in the clinic plus the enormous fees Mike and his hand picked staff were planning to charge. 

With the projections that he and his financial backers, a group of Middle Eastern and German entrepreneurs, were showing of a million pounds profit in year two, Mike could smile wryly at his paltry monthly pay cheque from his current employers.

If Sammi's mind had been reeling before the surgery began, the first patient and her reaction to the nurse positively made it boggle.

Mrs Richards was very attractive. She had big, starey eyes, which to Sammi's trained mind hinted at a touch of a thyroid problem, but which also meant they seemed to be mentally undressing her. She had gleaming, probably veneered teeth, and a dazzling smile that she beamed at Sammi. When they shook hands, she held her hand just that tad too long. Just that length of time that said more than hello and just that few moments that some might not notice, but to those with experience of other women recognised as a sign. And Sammi had had experience with other women, so she recognised the sign.

More reeling, she thought, almost smiling as Doctor Stevens said.

"Right let's begin."

The hour long session was taken up by the patient lying on the couch, an eye mask on, answering questions posed from Mike, as Sammi found herself thinking of him. They were questions that gradually took Ellie further and further back in her life. Sammi knew from her studying that this was the classic psychoanalysis technique pioneered by Freud. It was intended to free the patient from all the conditioning and social PR that jaundiced their real and deepest feelings desires and emotions. By so doing, they would be taken back to what it was in the earlier life that was causing their current problems. To get back to that root, though was a complicated process and required the patient talking about many of her later sexual experiences, it was a little bit like peeling an emotional onion!

Sammi's job was to make notes, to act as a chaperone and to administer the light, mind freeing drugs that psychiatrists sometimes used. As it happened none were used in the first consultation. But then that wasn't surprising for Mrs Richards spoke so easily.

Hardly had she lain on the electrically operated couch that Mike lowered so she could climb on and then lifted up to nearly his waist level, than she started and really never stopped. She was wearing what Sammi knew was an enormously expensive light beige summer suit, the skirt of which rode some six inches or so above her knees showing her slender, tanned thighs and just a slither of the lace of a petticoat, something g Sammi hadn't seen since she lived at home an saw her mum in one years ago. Lying down the top gaped a bit so Mike, particularly, but also the nurse, could see the swell of her pert, firm breasts.

It transpired that in previous session Mike had taken Ellie back to her early twenties when she was about to be married. She was a virgin. She had led a very protected life, having a dominating, severe, fun hating father and not being allowed hardly any freedom until she was engaged to the solid, respectable, rich, well-connected, absolutely fucking boring ex public schoolboy, stockbroker. 

She explained how her wedding night was near rape, but as her husband was so drunk he had no recall of that so the second night he did rape her. She went on to relate how it was only a few weeks into the marriage when he started staying out later and later and only a few months after that when she found out that he was bi. and that he had a number of boy friends, who, he informed her, he had absolutely no intention of giving up.

"Take it or leave," had been his clear message.

The rest of Sammi's day passed quickly. They saw a couple more "private" patients with similar deep-rooted problems as Mrs Richards, but most of those others were not concerned with sexual behaviour, although the reason for their problems often did, as Mike showed quite clearly with his clever, probing but gentle questioning.

The patient roster completed Sammi completed her notes in the nurse's room and returned to Mike's office to file them.

"Let's just run through them please Sammi."

"Why?" She replied a little annoyed that it seemed he didn't trust her

"Well I like to make sure they cover everything and that they are in the form I like them."

"Ok" she said standing in front of his desk and placing the folders in front of him.

"Let's sit over there and run through them together," he said indicating a seating area with a two seater sofa and two easy chairs facing each other across a low, glass topped coffee table.

Sammi sat on the low seated sofa where he had pointed.

"The day is done, the patients have all gone, most of the staff, even letchy Cal have buggered off, so how about we have a drink to relax." Mike suggested.

"Thanks, yes, that would be nice," Sammi replied, quite amazed that such a thing would happen in a hospital.

"White wine or beer?" He asked opening a fridge, "'fraid we aren't very well stocked, perhaps a chore I could persuade you to look after," he went on staring deep into her eyes and taking the opportunity to ogle her legs where the hem of the coat had zoomed up them as she sat down.

"That's ok doctor, white wine please."

"Mike please, we're almost off duty now and there are no patients about," he said smiling, removing his jacket and loosening his tie. He looked good a little rumpled and more casual.

"Ok, er Mike," Sammi replied, feeling pleased with the informality.

He sat next to her. He picked up the notes, they both looked at them. For half and hour or so, during which time he topped up their glasses, they went through the notes. He only had a few comments to make by way of changes. 

They really were well done, he acknowledged. Brains and beauty, he said to himself his hip touching his young nurses.

"Well Sammi," he said leaning back and spreading his arms along the back of the sofa, "that really is excellent, there'll be no need for me to check them in future, you really have picked things up awfully well."

Sammi was pleased with the praise; it made her feel good to have him compliment her. The feel on her hip also made her feel good. Was the pressure a little firmer she wondered?

Though he had a long-term partner, Mike was a great appreciator of beauty and sex appeal in other women. He simply revelled in looking at them and chatting to them, but recently he had not been seriously unfaithful and had always vowed never to mix business with pleasure; don't crap on your own doorstep or dip you pen in company ink were sentiments he agreed with.

He was often slightly attracted to younger women, either at work or in other social situations, but other than perhaps a dance or a few quick kisses he didn't follow them up. He often wondered whether that was due to self-control or the attraction not being strong enough.

As he sat alongside his new nurse, their hips touching, his arm along the back of the sofa just inches from her golden, blonde hair that she had tied up onto a tight bob and which he was dying to unravel, he was staring at her. At the clear outline of her bra strap through the thin tunic, at the length of her white, nylon covered legs poking out from the hem of the coat, at the flatness of her stomach and the swell of her breasts. It was all he could do to stop himself putting his hand onto her shoulder. He knew then that if it was the attraction not being enough that was reason he hadn't gone further with other women, then his self-control would be unlikely to be sufficient to stop him trying with this young wonder that Emma from La Crème had provided him with.

Chapter 4

The flat was dark when she got home, but she heard the TV on in Roni's room. The others weren't home yet. It was just her and Ron, big cuddly, noisy, sexy Ron. She knocked on her door.

"Come in," Roni replied.

"No I won't," Sammi said poking her head round the door and seeing that her friend was in bed.

"Oh hi luv," Roni said, sitting up causing the sheet to slip almost off her full, big nippled breasts, that Sammi suddenly thought, "I have sucked."

"You sure?"

"Better not it's been a hell of a long, tough day."

"I see, so you got to fuck him then, that was quick, even by your standards."

Sammi laughed. "No, not yet."

"You'd like to then?"

"Well Ron he is absolutely drop dead gorgeous."

"Then it won't be long, just remember you have got a friend with big tits who gives great head if he fancies a threesome"

Laughing Sammi said, "You crude scouse git, I'm going to bed."

As Sammi pulled the delicate pink folds open and placed her fingertip right alongside her clitoris it was all she could do to stop herself going into Roni's room and saying.

"Roni, please come to bed with me, please make love to me, please fuck me."

She didn't though, for lesbian sex would not have been appropriate to what she wanted from the masturbation she was starting, in bed that night. 

No, pussies and breast, cunts and tits, softness and a woman's lips on hers were not on her current sexual agenda. No, tonight was all about cock. Dr. Stevens' cock. Mike's cock. About that cock being rock hard for her. About it being in her hand, between her breasts, against her face, in her mouth and up her pussy. It was about that cock fucking her, about it fucking her on that sofa where they had sat today, on the top of his desk and on his couch. It was about him fucking her in every position, about him cumming in her mouth, on her tits and stomach and bum. Yes, in her narrow bed in her flat just off Euston Road, Sammi lay there bringing herself to a climax, as she imagined being fucked by her new boss. But as she wanked she could also visualise him fucking someone else, his wife, his lover, his partner, Emma? Yes Emma the agency manager. She didn't know for sure, but she did know that she would have to find out soon.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 02



The next couple of weeks were wonderful, frustrating and worrying for both of them.

The more she was with Mike, the more Sammi felt that having sex with him was inevitable. At the same time, though, the more she thought that, the more determined she became not to have sex with him. 

She didn't know his partner or marital circumstances and her subtle questioning of a couple of the other nurses failed to give her any more information. There was no way that she felt she could ask Mike, but equally there was no way that she could consider doing anything with him if he was married or had a long-term partner, she had some standards. A Catch 22.

Mike fucked Sammi nearly every day and certainly every night, in his mind. Most days as he asked his probing questions and they both listened to the often sex ridden answers, he mentally undressed Sammi. Sometimes he had her completely naked as she sat in her designated chair behind the patient, but in full view of Mike, taking notes, whilst other times he kept on her panties and hold-ups, that he now knew she wore on occasions.

At home when he fucked Claire, it was Sammi that was in his mind. And it was Sammi that was in his mind as he sat in the modern, black leather chair behind the glass topped desk that evening after his Consultant Assistant had left for home at just after nine. It was the blonde haired nurse that had captured his mind as he laid back, as he ran his hand over the lump in his trousers, as he undid his belt and pulled the zip down on his Saville Row hand tailored suit, It was Sammi in her erotic white uniform, it was Sammi taking it off, it was Sammi in her skimpy underwear and it was the naked Sammi that was in his mind as he pushed his trousers and CK boxers down in one go. It was her tits and ass that were in his mind as he grabbed his erection and it was her naked body that consumed him as he began to wank. And it was everything about her that made him pump his cock so fast and hard that he was spurting onto the glass top of the desk within a minute or two of starting. 

Cleaning himself up, he tried to recall the last time his sexual urges had been so strong to make him wank in his office; he couldn't recall when that was. Smiling, he termed it the Sammi syndrome! 



I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of The Nurse's Uniform. See why I called it that?

Part 3 won't be long, so check back regularly. In that Sammi has forced sex in a shop doorway.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 03



This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny to me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

I am planning to present the story to Lit in a series of parts over the next few months, so you will have something to read as we go through autumn. I wonder how far we will have got before winter sets in?

If you have come straight to this part, I would strongly suggest you read the earlier parts first.

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

I really hope you enjoy what may well be my magnum opus and possibly my last submission to Literotica. Do let me know won't you?



"He's a bit of closed book," Cal said slipping his arm round her waist as they walked to the tube.

"Yes he seems to be," Sammi replied wiggling away.

They turned into a, quiet, dimly lit street near Goodge Street station. It was lined with offices and warehouse type buildings most of which were dark and seemed deserted, even though it was only eleven.

"Anyway why do you want to know?" He asked taking hold of her hand, she pulled that free.

Cal had decided to leave. The long (!), seven hour days just didn't suit his club world, late night lifestyle and he didn't need the money so what was the point of it, he conjectured?

"Do you fancy him?" He went on adding, "Why waste your time with an old boy like Stevens?"

"You mean," Sammi said, "when I could have a young boy like you instead?"

"Exactly," Cal replied, slipping his hand round her waist again. This time she didn't pull away, she knew he was harmless.

The leaving do had been in the basement of the Spaghetti House near the old Middlesex Hospital where Sammi had spent much of her training. There had been plenty to drink and there was dancing. Cal had made a beeline for Sammi and they had flirted with each other. He was quite handsome, was lots of fun and was really the only friend she had made at the consulting rooms. As they danced, with both of them a little tipsy, she had begun thinking, why not? It had been some time she had made love and it was on offer in a very no strings attached way with the handsome, Anglicised Pakistani.

He pulled her into a deep doorway.

"So what do you think then?" Cal said putting both arms round her.

"About what?" 

"Us."

"Us what."

He pulled her against him.

"Well getting it on."

He was hard. He pressed it firmly against her. He badly wanted the blonde girl, he adored blondes, but they were few and far between, at least as visitors to his bed.

"Come on Cal, don't be daft," Sammi said, starting to struggle.

"It's not daft, you know that, I've seen you looking."

"Looking and doing anything are different," she said as he pressed his erection against her from the front and grabbed her arse from behind. 

"What about when we were dancing earlier, you were up for it then weren't you?" He went on, his hand slipping from the cheek of her bum, down onto the back of her thighs then up under the denim micro skirt Sammi was wearing, without tights or stockings.

"God her arse is fantastic," Cal thought wiggling his fingers against the masses of bare skin left free from the thong she was wearing.

He bent to kiss her, Sammi turned her face away. She didn't like what he was doing, where he was doing it or the way he was going about it. Had he have been a little less assumptive and shown more subtlety she may well have gone to bed with him. She had thought she might in the restaurant when he had pulled her against his erection and squeezed her bum. Just as the do ended she had felt that they would almost certainly sleep together when he kissed her tenderly and cupped her breast.

He had changed though. He was no longer asking her, he was demanding, he was trying to dominate and control her. He was making the same mistake as many guys in assuming that because Sammi had flirted a bit that she was up for anything and was his for the asking. And that she abhorred.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"I want to go."

"Why."

"Because I do."

He still had one arm round her, his hand about where her bra strap, had she been wearing one, crossed, and the other up her skirt on her, nearly, bare bum. She was still crushed against him. His full erection was pressed hard against her pubic mound and squashed into the softness of her tummy. She couldn't help realising that it was rearing a very long way up and quite some distance across her, he was big she thought to herself as he again bent to kiss her.

Cal was not used to girls turning his advances down, and he was not that familiar with being rejected. He didn't really accept the concept of a girl who had let him touch her tits and who he had kissed, later saying no. It had happened a few times, but he had persuaded them round to his way of thinking. After all, he knew they really meant yes, they were only saying no to tease him and build up the sexual tension. He was convinced that all girls were gagging for it most of the time and were always up for it if treated properly, and he knew how to do that.

He pulled his hand up Sammi's back and got hold of the back of her head. Holding that he bent his face forward, but she turned hers away. There was no way she wanted to kiss him, but his mouth found her neck. He kissed and licked it as he tried to get his hand between her legs from behind.

"Look Cal, stop now before this goes too far," Sammi managed to blurt out, sounding far calmer than she felt.

"What do you mean too far?" He grunted as they looked at each other.

"You know exactly what I mean."

"No I don't. Can there be too far between a guy and a chickl?" Cal asked pushing himself harder against her. 

The base of his cock, that part just above where his balls start, was wedged firmly against the lower part of Sammi's pubic mound. It was perilously close to where her clit lie covered by her smooth, thin lips. It was so close she could feel pressure on that stalk of, usually, such arousal. In fact, it was so near that she felt a surge of pleasure as he thrust at her. That made her panic a bit, for she was now worried that she might give in.

"Yes there fuckingwell can be," she snarled.

"When's that then?" he replied again trying to kiss her and once more gripping the soft flesh of the cheek of her arse.

"When the girl doesn't want to. Now stop it."

"Stop it? Don't be stupid Sam, you know you want it." 

He managed to slide his fingers downwards and then between her legs as again he thrust his cock against her mound and stomach.

Sammi's panic, or was it frustration, increased when the slight feelings of pleasure gave way to a rush of excitement. She panicked even more when she felt the familiar sensations of her pussy starting to get wet.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck and fuck again," she said to herself

"I don't Cal, I don't," she said pretty sure, but now not totally convinced she meant it.

Somehow, he had bunched the short skirt round her waist so that his jeans covered cock was pressing against the cotton and satin of her blue thong. She was effectively naked from the waist down. He was kissing her neck for her head was thrown back and to one side. He was manhandling her backwards, further into the deep doorway, further into the darkness, further away from where anyone passing might see them, further into a position where he could fuck her and nobody would see.

Sammi was struggling, she wanted to get away, yet at the same time she wanted to be fucked.

Cal knew her resistance was reducing. They always did, she was just like the rest. When she said no the first time she meant maybe, when she said no again, she meant yes. It was all a game, just the girls trying to pretend they were not really gagging for it. Just the slags trying to pretend they weren't slags and making out they were high moralled. Ignore their stupid playacting and go for it was his motto and that had served him well so far.

He got the hand that wasn't on her arse up the front of the pink top that was not tucked into the skirt. That was easy, he knew it would be and assumed the blonde was wearing it like that to make it easy for him. As he knew from when he'd touched her tits at the do, she wasn't wearing a bra. His view from the moment Sammi had walked down the stairs to the restaurant was that she was up for it tonight. Not just up for being shagged, but being fucked royally by him. It was, he had smiled when they had danced and he had first pressed his erection against her, Sammi's leaving present to him.

The feel of his hand on her tit made her jerk. 

"No, no, stop," she whined as Cal rubbed and cupped her small, but nicely shaped tits, squashing and squeezing the soft, pliant flesh. He ignored her and simply continued caressing her breasts and squeezing her bum.

"Stop, let me go," Sammi pleaded, now though recognising that her struggles and objections were probably sounding somewhat half-hearted, for in reality that is what they were.

Cal could tell he was winning, well had won really he smiled to himself moving his hand from Sammi's bum and sliding it round her body to the front. He looked down. Her skirt was already hitched up and his throbbing erection was pressed against her thong. His other hand was up her pink, long sleeved tee squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples. Again, he could hardly stop himself from smiling for at the moment he was doing nothing to stop her getting away. Nothing, that is except arousing her. Nothing, apart from exciting her, no not a thing other than giving the slag exactly what she wanted.

He eased his body away from her a little and slid his hand between them. He slid it onto her, against her thong and down. He slid his hand over her mound with the patch of crinkly hairs, he pushed it a little way between her legs, and he slid it inside the gusset of her panties.

"No, no Cal, no," Sammi said aloud as she mouthed "fuck, fuck fuck," to herself." She mouthed that for she knew she was wet, knew she was aroused and excited and she knew that Cal would realise it.

Still he was fumbling with his hand in her knickers. Just what he was doing she didn't know until he slid it further. Until he found what he was after, until his fingers arrived where he wanted them to be, until he got them just where Sammi didn't want them, but did want them. Yes until he got his fingers right on her cunt lips.

"Fuck me, she's soaked," he thought feeling massively pleased with himself. 

As she felt his hand on her soft, soaked lips, Sammi inwardly groaned. It felt so good, it felt, she had to admit, fucking brilliant. It felt wonderful to have fingers running along and inside her lips. She knew now that she was gone, that there was no way she would be able to resist his advances.

Her body shook, she couldn't help it, she groaned and a low moan slipped from her mouth.

Cal, the sadistic sod that he was, turned the screw. He had won, they both now knew that, but still he had to gloat.

"You dirty, little bitch," he whispered, his mouth against her ear, two of his fingers sliding effortlessly inside her. "You're fucking soaked."

"Fuck off," Sammi replied intent on not giving him any more satisfaction than was essential from her humiliating and total capitulation.

Cal smiled and went on. "I knew you were fucking gagging for it" he said pushing his fingers right into Sammi. That made her grunt and quite involuntarily open her legs a little. She didn't reply, but then there was nothing she could say was there?

Cal unzipped himself. Taking her hand he pushed it inside his jeans, right onto his cock, as usual he wasn't wearing anything under the jeans.

As Sammi's hand closed round his long, sturdy, hot and throbbing cock, she felt a wave of revulsion. Not at what was in her hand, for that felt awesome, but at herself. She let go of it and moved away trying to get past Cal. He was taken by surprise for he was sure that he had beaten her. Sammi started to run down the doorway, but Cal was quick, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back.

"Let go you arsehole," she said struggling to break free.

"Shut up bitch," he responded pulling hard on her arm, hurting her. 

Sammi's skirt was still round her waist, her tee was pushed up above her tits as Cal shoved her against the door at the back of the large entrance hall. Her face slapped against the cold glass her boobs were squashed to it. He had his forearm against the back of her neck restraining her. There was nothing she could do as he ran his hand over her bum and shoved his knee between her thighs.

"Stop fucking me about Sammi, you know you want it."

Sammi was caught up in a combination of feelings. Fear, concern, frustration, guilt and, she couldn't help admitting, extreme excitement. It wasn't the excitement of being sexually aroused, or that of being in a place where they could be caught. It was not an excitement brought about by Cal's big cock or by the prospect of shortly being fucked by it. It was none of those things for it was an excitement caused by the fact that this was all happening against her will, that she was being forced, that she was almost being raped. That was the buzz, the thrill, the excitement.

"Get off me you turd," she said wriggling as she felt his hand on her bum running along the string of her thong, just where it was engulfed by her cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah," Cal replied, digging his nails into her flesh and pinching her hard.

"Ouch, that hurt, you sod."

"It was supposed to and if you don't shut I'll spank your fucking arse."

"Piss off." Sammi moaned as she felt his fingers pulling on the waist band of her thong forcing the gusset firstly hard against and then inside the cheeks of her pussy.

Cal was now so into this that his cock, if anything, got even harder. He undid his belt and pushed the flies of his jeans open and the waist down a bit. He grabbed Sammi's hand again.

"Feel this."

"What?" She asked, not thinking for the answer was obvious really.

"This." He repeated pressing her hand against his erection. "My cock."

She couldn't help saying to herself how good it felt.

"Like it?"

She didn't reply and went to take her hand away, but he stopped her. He put his hand round hers so that both her hand and his was gripping his cock. He then started thrusting in and out of the cavity they created. 

"Like your hand being fucked do you nurse?"

"Don't be stupid, you cretin," she replied, actually enjoying his firm flesh surging in and out of the surrogate pussy created by the palm of her hand.

Cal laughed, partly in triumph, partly with excitement but mainly because he had taken his hand away and Sammi hadn't realised.

"I'm going to fuck you Sammi."

It was now exactly what she wanted, but she needed to continue the façade of being forced.

"No you aren't, you're not gonna fuck me."

"Oh yes I am," Cal retorted pushing himself forward so that his cock, still in her hand, was pressed against the top of her leg, right where that became her bum. "I'm gonna fuck you hard and dirty, just as you want it."

And that was precisely what Sammi did want, but couldn't admit.

Although it was almost dark in the entranceway, her arse looked magnificent, especially as her face had slid down the glass door a little making her body bend and her bum stick out.

"You've got a great arse, Sammi, I might just fuck that."

That was something she had never done and had a fear of doing.

"No, no, not that, not my bum, not anal."

"Ok, it'll just have to be your cunt then won't it?"

She had no reply to that.

Cal was now really worked up. Pakistani guys, no matter how well off, didn't get that many chances with young, blonde beauties like Sammi and that excited him enormously, as Sammi had done since that first morning some three weeks ago when they first met. He loved thongs, he loved them almost as much as the bums they didn't cover but snuggled up to. And both Sammi's thong and bum looked great to him. He was stroking both almost reverently, almost absent mindedly. 

Sammi was now in a trance-like state. Still a little scared, still concerned, still excited and aroused but now resigned and anticipatory of what was about to happen. And that was her being raped; well nearly she smiled ruefully, in an office doorway. It was that prospect that was putting her into the trance.

His hands felt good on her super-sensitive arse and his cock felt even better squashed against her left leg. Without really thinking, she bent her body a little more, she opened her legs wider and she stuck her butt out more provocatively. Silently she was saying, "take me Cal, have me, fuck me, rape me."

He was again holding and pulling on her thong. It was nearly hurting her as the gusset slid between her lips, but the front of it pressing right against her clit, created sensations that easily overcame any pain. The pressure increased, he was now tugging at the waistband, pulling it, stretching it. It dawned on her just as what he wanted to do. It still came as a surprise to both of them, though, when the doorway was filled with the sound of her thong tearing.

"Fucking hell, he's ripped my panties off," she moaned to herself, the extremity of the gesture taking away any lingering doubts she may have been harbouring. A deep moan and a series of low grunts slipped from her mouth.

She felt his cock slip between her legs. She did nothing to stop it.

"You want it now don't you," he said surprisingly softly and without the gloating tone of earlier.

Sammi still couldn't admit that to him so she said nothing. Cal grabbed her hair and pulled her face round. He leaned forward and clamped his mouth to hers shoving his tongue deep inside. He was tugging on her hair, hurting her, making her feel that he might tear it out by its roots. But that was ok, it sort of went with the territory, it was part of the rape scenario and, if anything it turned her on even more.

"Say it Sammi," he grunted against her lips.

"Fuck off, I wont,"

Cal was enjoying the teasing and the challenge. He pressed the tip of his cock right against her pussy.

"This is what you want isn't it?"

"Yes, no, no I don't"

He pulled it away.

"Really Sam, really, you don't want it?"

"No, yes, fuck off."

He slid it right along her slit and then took it away again.

"That what you want? Ask for it."

"No, I won't, I won't ask."

"You will Sammi or you won't get it at all."

"Then fuck off and leave me alone."

"If I don't fuck you, I'm going to strip you naked and leave you here, just like the slapper you are."

"You bastard" she said feeling terrified that he might actually do that.

"You've got it Sammi, that's what I am, a right bastard." Cal smiled taking his erection in his hand and running the tip of his cock down the crease of her bum, along her pussy lips and right onto her clit. He pressed that hard and her body jolted, so severe were the sensations.

"Oh fuck," she couldn't help groaning.

"Say it, say it."

"Say what?"

"What you want."

"No."

"Yes, fucking say it," he snarled pinching her nipple hard, tugging her hair and pressing his cock even harder against her throbbing clit.

The sensations were even more acute this time.

"Oh God, oh shit," Sammi groaned pretty much all of her resistance now replaced by a burning need to be shagged. She wanted that so badly her body was shaking with need.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 03



He again ran the end of his cock along her lips easing just inside on each pass. It was getting too much for her.

"Tell me Sammi, tell me what you want."

It was over, she was finished, her need for sex far outweighed any pride that was left with her. But then she thought how can a girl have any pride left? How can she when she's bent over in an office doorway, her skirt round her waist, her ripped thong hanging down her thighs with a guy's cock being run along her pussy lips?

"I want to be fucked." She heard herself whispering.

"Louder Sammi, louder."

The sod she thought as she repeated the phrase a little louder.

"Tell me again what you want and who you want."

"I want you to fuck me Cal."

And in that grubby doorway that is exactly what he did. He fucked Sammi. But as he fucked her, in her mind it wasn't Cal doing that but Mike. It was Dr Stevens that was fulfilling her rape fantasy and taking her by force.

Things are warming up and in the next part we see Mike getting it on with Claire and some horny bi stuff with Sammi. It'll be up soon.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 04



Regulars to this series will know the score by now, newcomers are strongly urged to go back to Part 1.

This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny to me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

I am planning to present the story to Lit in a series of parts over the next few months, so you will have something to read as we go through autumn. I wonder how far we will have got before winter sets in?

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

I really hope you enjoy what may well be my magnum opus and possibly my last submission to Lit erotica. Do let me know won't you?

*

Chapter 1

A pattern developed over the next few weeks.

Sammi and Mike maintained the hot atmosphere between them, but neither pushed it further, although Sammi now regularly wore no panties to work.

She became used to hearing about the most lurid experiences and making notes about them in Dr Steven's consulting room.

Of women: who had been raped or wanted to be raped, wanted to be abused demeaned and humiliated, wished to be dominated or to dominate, wanted sex with other women or was worried about having sex with them, who felt they were nymphomaniacs or were scared they were frigid, who had committed incest or was strongly tempted to do so, who didn't have orgasms and those that had them too easily and on and on. Men who wanted a whole myriad of sexual experiences, or who wanted to rid themselves of what they considered were the perversions of extreme sexual behaviour. The sexual sufferings seemed endless.

Mike patiently listened to their woes, slowly and expertly then taking them back in time gradually revealing the cause and thus starting to cure the neuroses.

It was fascinating for Sammi to be part of this, but also a little worrying. Each evening when they ran through the cases she found it more and more difficult to remain detached from it all. It was nearly impossible for her not to confuse what she read from her notes to Mike with the clear sexual attraction that she had for him and, increasingly she felt, him for her.

To be talking about a patient that was regularly indulging in threesome, or one that had told them about how her lover tied her hands and ankles to the bed and then fucked her with a vibrator for hours on end, as she sat on a couch with Mike, his leg occasionally touching hers, tested both their resistances.

Claire was not at all sure that they had that resistance. As she worked in her chambers or spoke in court, she often imagined Mike with Sammi. At times, the vision she had of them was so powerful and then she would have to masturbate. For that was her thing. Not, as Mike thought and half hoped, a lust for Sammi, girls just didn't do it for Claire, but a lust to think of him with other women. Often she had thought of suggesting that he shag another girl while she watched, but she was not sure their relationship was strong enough for her to suggest that.

Emma was busy. She had to front up the Saudi's British operation for the clinic. Not only would La Crème, of course, supply all the staff, earning nice fat fees for providing them, but she also had to handle all the logistics for establishing the clinic in the almost new building they had bought near Windsor.

She had flown to Riyadh to sign the contracts and had been quite upset to see just how frail Abdullah was. Frail yes, but not to the extent that all of his sex drive had gone, although he probably could not have shagged her. He was, though, with her help able to get an erection and Emma was pleased to suck his dick until she made him cum in her mouth.

"We have no appointments next Wednesday," Sammi said to Mike as she did her rolling seven day plan.

"No, that's right, I am interviewing all day."

"What for?"

"The new venture I told you about."

"Oh I see," she replied, feeling a little hurt that he had not confided more in her about it.

"In any case, it's your three month review with La Crème on that day, so you wouldn't be around would you?"

"Oh right."

"So how is it going with the delightful Mike?" Emma asked Sammi the following Wednesday in her office.

Sammi had arrived a little early and had seen a number of, quite dishy as it turned out, youngish guys, between probably eighteen and thirty five in and around the reception area. She had not thought much about it for she was then called in to see Emma.

"It's going good, I really enjoy it?"

"And him?"

"Him what?"

"Do you enjoy him, have you enjoyed him," the older woman asked with a glint in her eye.

Sammi didn't smile for it was, after all, a bit near to home.

"I enjoy working with him if that's what you mean Emma," she replied rather coldly.

Emma smiled. "Well what ever, he speaks very well of you."

"Good I'm pleased."

They talked for some time reviewing every aspect of the job and Sammi's performance.

"Well that seems to be about everything to do with this posting Sammi," Emma said her eyes boring into the younger woman's. She really was a lovely looking girl and Emma was easily able to imagine her naked, exactly how, right at this moment she would like her, but this was not the time for that sort of thing, later maybe, she smiled to herself as she said.

"Right Sammi, I want to talk to you about another project you might be interested in."

"But I'm happy with Mike, er Dr Stevens," Sammi replied.

Emma smiled at her, as she walked round the desk and sat on the edge of it, one of her long bare legs stretched out towards the blonde. "I'm sure you are, wouldn't any girl be happy with the dishy doctor?"

Emma hadn't bothered to adjust her skirt, which had ridden well up her tanned, lithe thighs as she went on.

"This has to be in total confidence Sam."

"Of course," "Sammi almost gulped, unable to tear her eyes away from the dangling leg with its expanse of golden flesh.

"The project is with Mike, he is starting a new clinic."

"Oh yes, he mentioned it."

"I shall be the manager of the place and responsible for many things including recruiting all the staff and managing all the non medical personnel including nurses and consultant assistants."

"I see," the younger woman said, wondering where this was all leading.

"And I would like you to join us Sammi."

"Really, but isn't it in Windsor? That's such a long journey."

"It would be residential, you would get free accommodation and food."

"Oh I see," Sammi said, her mind working out just how much she could save.

"And as my assistant and Mike's personal aide there would be a significant rise, most of which, due to the overseas status of the financiers of the clinic, would be paid into an offshore bank account free of tax"

"Wow, how much?"

"The salary?"

"Yes," Sammi said although she had really meant how much would be paid tax free.

"You're on what, thirty three now aren't you?" Emma asked moving her dangling leg back and forward almost touching Sammi's jeans.

"Yes, well thirty two nine hundred."

"Well due to the increased responsibility and the longer hours due to living in, this would be fifty thousand pounds with twenty being paid tax free."

Chapter 2

"It's a completely new form of therapy Sam." Mike said a few days later when they had their meeting about Sammi's new position. 

He had updated her on the plans and progress with the clinic; they had discussed and agreed her job specification with Mike saying how pleased he was that Sammi had agreed terms with Emma.

"So what's so revolutionary about it?" Sammi asked stretching her legs out before her the buttons on the coat straining in the buttonholes, the hem riding up her thighs. She was far more relaxed around Mike than she had been, but that did nothing for how she made him feel. He simply could not take his eyes from her, particularly, when he realised that she now went commando every day. Each time he saw her from behind and particularly if she bent over the absence of any form of VPL at all just sent his blood pressure soaring and his pulses racing. How he resisted pushing her forward, laying her chest on his couch or desk, ripping her coat up from the back and fucking her doggy style he had no idea? 

What made his hunger for her even worse was Claire. She talked about Sammi as much he did. She had seen her photo on Mike's PC and as she and Mike made love she would bring Sammi's name up.

"I bet you would like that blonde hair tumbling over your belly, not my tatty mousy stuff wouldn't you?" had been the start. Now, though talking about his assistant had become part of their lovemaking.

"She hasn't got tits like these."

"I bet her nipples are like little pimples."

"You would like to fuck her, wouldn't you?"

"Would you like to fuck her as I watched?"

Were all questions and statements that were said as Mike and Claire made love. It was an odd addition to their repertoire and something that was never mentioned other than during sex.

"It's called intereactionary neuroses therapy." Mike told Sammi, who raised her eyebrows for she had never heard of it, despite all the reading she had recently done on treating sexually related emotional inhibition factors.

"So how's it work?"

"Well basically getting the patient to act out their problems."

"How?"

"Like a role-play really."

"What do you mean?"

"Using another party to help release the neuroses."

"Not sure I follow," Sammi said a little pissed off that she was not understanding what Mike was trying to explain.

"Well let's take Mrs Brawson for example."

"The one who is toying with a lesbian affair and is scared?"

"Exactly. In her case she would be encouraged under sedation to have sex with another woman."

"What as we observe?" 

"Sort of yes."

"How do you mean sort of?"

"Well this is the difficult part Sammi."

"Really?"

"Yes"

"Why?" Sammi asked thinking she probably knew the answer.

"I observe, you take part, you are in the role-play."

"Jesus Christ, you are fucking joking aren't you?" She couldn't help blurting out.

"No, not at all," Mike replied a little coldly, realising this was not going as he had hoped.

"Can't you use hookers or something?"

"No, the only way the BMA are prepared to license this new form of therapy is if trained medical practitioners are in the role-play. That's why I have been doing all the interviews recently, especially of male nurses."

"Oh at Emma's the other day?"

"Yes."

"What makes you think they will go along with it?"

"Well fifty grand a year helps and the results of Emma's tests tell us they are emotionally prepared to be sexually experimental and that they do not hold conventional views on sex."

"The tests I did as well?"

"Yes Sammi that is why Emma put you forward to me and why I hired you."

Chapter 3

Emma knew that it was going to be a tough night. Both brothers were in town and she had been summoned to one of their country homes to the south-west of London, not far from Windsor Great Park and Ascot racecourse.

"The car will collect you at ten," Sunni had said, immediately then cutting the connection.

She had had no contact with either of the brothers or Abdullah since she had modelled the nurses uniform for Ahmad a month or so ago. This wasn't unusual for they had a team of lackey managers, mostly Lebanese or Egyptian, who handled the details of the family's business arrangements; that is if you could call spending near to twenty million pounds on clinic, a detail. But then, when a family is worth billions and earns tax free profits from a multitude of business of nearly two million pounds a day, what's the odd twenty million?

Although the brothers had immense power, after all he and Sunni were related to the Saudi royal family, a cousin was a minister in the government, they "ran" a vast business empire and could really buy and have anything they wanted, little things impressed them so much.

"You shaved that for me Emma?" Ahmad had said as he sat in that chair naked, his hard, throbbing cock in his hand.

"Yes Ahmad," Emma had replied as she stood close to him, her fantastic, heavily nippled tits sticking out from the unbuttoned tunic, her bare pussy on show where she had lifted the hem. "I shaved my pussy for you, because you asked me."

"You are so good to me Emma, thank you," he said as the older woman moved alongside the chair turning so that she faced his knees. This had become something of a ritual between them when they had sex

Emma bent over, so she was less than ninety degrees at the waist. She took his cock in her hands as she stuck her bum out, opened her legs and leaned further forward. As she licked his cock and started to run her mouth up and down its length, all of her womanly places were available to the young man. He alternated between running his hands over her tits and pussy to sliding them along the crease of her ass. He licked her bum, pinched her nipples and slid his fingers into her soaked pussy and tight anus. As all the time she fellated him. 

She was good at it, very good and she prided herself on being good. She was very aware that she was aging and that the power in the company was passing from Abdullah to the two sons. They could buy anything and anybody, especially women, and Emma was determined not to be cast aside for some young bamboos. Ok they might have them as well, as of course Abdullah always had, but she was determined that they should be in addition to Emma, not in place of her.

So as his hips started to surge, as his fingers dug deeper into her flesh, as his breath started to pant, as his cock throbbed harder and as he began to fuck Emma's face, she maintained her sucking rhythm. Not once, not for a moment did she vary or hesitate. Not for a second was any doubt conveyed to the Arab whose cock was buried deep in Emma's face and whose fingers were up her cunt and arse. There was absolutely no thought on her part, or consideration on his about the outcome, about what was to happen, about how they would culminate this first sexual act of the evening. He was going to shoot his cum into her mouth and, looking him right in the eye and smiling slightly, she would swallow it.

As Emma prepared for the evening ahead at the grand country estate, she recalled the splash of Ahmad's sperm on her tongue and the back of her mouth and the slight gagging feeling as she held his cock there whilst it unloaded its acrid cargo. It wasn't that unpleasant, but like anal sex, she thought, it was more for the man than the woman. But then hey, isn't that what the world is all about? And if she was really honest with herself, which she tried to be to keep her feet on the ground, she wasn't that keen on men cumming in her mouth. There was little or no physical sensation for her; it was more an emotional charge, but then one of doing something special for him as opposed to him for her. But in the shadowy Arab world of part businesswoman, part lover, part mistress, part courtesan near hooker she inhabited, she did not have the choice of choosing where her men's' spunk was deposited. Having it on her tits, face and bum, up her pussy and ass and in her face was the price she paid, willingly, for the reward that was now over half a million a year.

Her mobile rang.

"Hello Mrs Emma, its Kahalid here," she heard realising it was one of the family's drivers. 

Emma panicked a bit. 

"Shit what's the time?"

"It's ok Mrs, it is only nine."

"Phew, I thought I was late."

"No I am early, I have a package for you, I will wait."

Just what it is that men have about PVC, Emma had no idea, but that was what was in the package. PVC panties and bra, a neck halter, arm and wrist bands together with black, seemed, fishnet hold ups and high, high, pointed stilettos.

"Wear just these under your fur," the handwritten note ordered.

Emma had never been to Ascot Park before. It was a huge house in massive grounds situated in one of the most expensive areas of countryside in the world. 

She was shown into a sitting room where a flunky offered her a drink. She opted for mineral water, for two reasons. One she reckoned she would need a clear head tonight and she had no need of alcohol to loosen her sexual inhibitions; she didn't have any. And two, out of respect for the Saudis who, although they did use alcohol, still had hang ups about the religious connotations, so for all the time she had been involved, she never touched it unless they did as well.

It was warm and the fur was making it even hotter, but her instinct told her to keep it on. She did though unbutton it and stood before a mirror.

The black PVC of the deep cut bra and thong and the accompaniments were set off well by her skin tone that, although by no means white, she had an olivey tone, emphasised their blackness. The extraordinarily high heels had been difficult to walk in at first, but she was pleased with the effect they had on her calf muscles, for they pushed them up and with the black fishnet made her long legs look even more slender than they were. The bra was tight so it pushed her tits together and formed a deep cleavage, but the material was surprisingly thin so that each nipple was clearly on show through it. The thong was also tight and cut steeply up her groins making her pleased that she had shaved her pubes, for there were no straggling hairs poking out of the thong to spoil the effect.

"Wonderful Emma, you look just right," she heard one of them say.

Turning, the fur coat open so her body and the erotic gear was on show she beamed a smile at the two brothers. Both were wearing the long robes that all Arabs wear, dish dashes as they were commonly known, that looked like nightdresses, Emma always thought. 

She knew from seeing them before that the brother's robes were made from the finest silk, so that in the heat of Riyadh, they would be cool and smooth to the bodies.

"Thank you Sunni," Emma replied walking over to where the two brothers were standing, loosely holding hands.

She leaned forward and kissed, firstly Sunni and then Ahmad on both cheeks. They both ran their hand up her bare back.

"Yes," Ahmad whispered, "you look wonderful."

Just why they had asked her to wear the PVC, Emma never found out, for soon after that first kiss they were undoing the clasp of the bra, easing her boobs from the cups, pushing her thong to one side and groping her everywhere. She fully responded, though, for Emma was very aware that they needed and, indeed, demanded her full involvement.

As the pair of them kissed and caressed her, firstly standing up, then sitting and half lying on a sofa and then full length on the thick Wilton carpet, so her bra and thong came off and so she established that both of them were naked under the floor length robes. Not just naked but now rampantly erect.

Emma was now just wearing the PVC wrist and armbands, the halter round her neck and the long, black, seamed, fishnet hold-ups. She looked fabulous.

They made no effort to remove their silk robes and Emma did nothing about them either. She had learned over the years that Saudi men did not welcome women taking the lead in an overt way, like undoing their zip or initiating any form of sex; after all in their heavily male oriented society women did have a very clear place, and that certainly was not ripping their lover's dish dashes off. 




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 04



Instead, the nearly naked Emma had the surprisingly erotic experience of rolling around on the floor and the sofas with two men clad in their long robes. The feeling of all of that silk on her body, often her front and back at the same time, was terrific. Having the cool luxuriant material on her breasts, stomach thighs and bum as, occasionally at first, but then more frequently until it was almost continuous, the hardness of the two erections pressed against was a new and really thrilling experience. As was, to her, stroking their cocks through the silk, although Emma got the impression it was not new to them.

Threesomes, whatever the gender mix, can be awkward when it comes to the first shag. Who has whom and how that is decided can be such a tiresome decision, but with the two brothers there didn't seem to be any jealousy, they didn't need to talk about or plan it or really hardly think about it for one simple reason. Sunni wanted her arse while Ahmad was mostly after her pussy.

Ahmad lay on his back, he pulled his robe up.

"Sit across me Emma," he said, pulling his erection so that it was near to ninety degrees from his stomach. 

He looked bigger than usual Emma thought, realising that was ridiculous as she straddled his loins. She was very wet, so he slid up her quite easily, but it still made her grunt, as it always did, as a cock filled her so splendidly. Ahmad pulled her towards him kissing her, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth, flattening her breasts against the silk of the robe covering his chest and shoving her bare arse in the air. That felt wonderful, but Emma felt slightly scared, as she always did with anal sex. She knew it could be terribly painful if done wrongly and, although Sunni was experienced at it, mistakes could happen and she knew that her welfare was of scant regard to the two brothers. 

Although, they and their father had now been fucking her for many years, none of them were under any illusions, or delusions come to that, about their relationship. They were male, near royalty, Muslim Arab. Emma was a Christian female and as such an unworthy infidel. On top of that, in their eyes she was a whore, although they treated her like their mistress; to Arab men there is little differentiation between those two states. So Emma knew that if they hurt her or ruptured anything or, even worse split her skin, she would get the best medical treatment, but no sympathy from them. But she understood that, she understood Arab and Saudi men, she knew the rules, she had learned the game plan. After all she had succeeded in a nearly closed to females, male dominant business society for nearly twenty years, and she knew that her success was at least equally due to her great tits, splendid arse and clever use of her pussy as it was to the superb business services she supplied in providing nurses to hospitals and consultancies.

She heard Sunni approaching her, and her heart started to pound. She managed to glance round and she smiled at him when she caught his eye, although she felt far from smiling. He had the bigger cock of the two and with his dish dash pulled up above it that too looked sturdier and longer than normal. A little shudder of apprehension went through her as she saw him take a tube from his pocket. She watched him, as Ahmad licked her neck and cheek, undo the top and squeeze a large dollop of clear jelly onto his fingers. Ahmad pulled her face back to his so he could kiss her again, so Emma didn't see Sunni rubbing the jelly all over his cock, but she felt his fingers massaging it all round the puckered hole of her anus.

She heard and felt him kneel between his brothers slightly parted legs, she felt his hand on her arse, the tip of his cock running across the two cheeks, slipping between them and then the tip of it nestling against her hole, right against the lubricated, slightly stretched opening to her arse. Ahmad knew this was a delicate and difficult moment for her and he wrapped his arms round her, although Emma wasn't sure whether that was to comfort or trap her.

Sunni looked at the naked arse that the woman was offering to him. It was a beautiful shape and so ready for him. In his way he loved Emma, but more like he would love a mother than a girl friend, so to him, what he was doing was committing incest. He was having sex with his father's whore and that is why he wanted her arse, not her cunt that was what he used when he had proper sex, not when he fucked his mother!

Emma's sphincter muscle had been stretched so the pain was not acute as Sunni eased himself inside her. The tip went in very easily, there was a moment or two of difficulty for her as the bulbous head slid in and then she felt the whooshing sensation, similar to that when a cock went up her pussy, as his length went fully up her back passage. He wisely didn't move for a while but simply moulded himself to Emma's back and reached round to hold her nice, big tits, she lifted herself up a bit to help him.

She had never felt so filled, she was stuffed to overflowing and it began to feel good. She experimented by wiggling her bottom a little. She was rewarded by a series of terrific sensations. She couldn't be precise just where they came from, though, or whether it was the cock of the brother that was up her cunt or the one that was up her arse that caused them. It didn't matter, though; all that did matter were the sensations, the excitement and the sheer buzz of being roasted by two brothers.

*

I really hope you are getting into "The Uniform" and meeting all the new characters. There's a lot more to come yet. 

In Part 5 we see a new uniform and meet Claire, Mike's big-titted partner, in a variety of erotic situations



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 05



Those of you who have read some, or all, of the previous parts will know what this is all about. In simple terms, it's is a story about doctors and nurses. It is a long story, we've already done five parts, a further five have been written and I have at least that number buzzing around in my head. So, I hope you have the stamina for Sammi and Emma and all the other characters.

It's also a complicated story and a fucking horny one at that. It was horny to me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it. 

If you have come straight to this part, I would strongly suggest you read Part 1 first, to meet all the characters, although each part should stand alone as an erotic experience.

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

I really hope you enjoy what may well be my magnum opus and possibly my last submission to Literotica. Do let me know won't you?

Also, I have tried putting a photo of Sammi on my Lit bio. The photo fascists at Lit are, at the moment, stopping me doing that. So, if any of you would like to see what nurse Sammi is like, just let me know and I'll send a pic.







Chapter 1

Sammi was pissed off. She was annoyed and disappointed at Mike. How could he think such things of her she wondered? She would leave, money wasn't everything, she thought. Then she looked at the new clothes, the new shoes and she thought about the MINI Cooper S that was on order and the holiday she had just booked with three girl friends in Ibiza. Perhaps it is she smiled.

"What the fuck's going on?" She said loudly down the phone.

"What do you mean darling?" Emma replied, perfectly aware what would be annoying Sammi.

Sammi ranted for a while.

"Look why don't you pop over and we'll talk it through."

"I'm still at the clinic, I won't finish until eight."

"That's ok, I have loads of work to catch up, so come on over then."

Sammi got a cab for the cross town, north east to south west twenty five minute journey, something she would never have done before joining La Crème. Paying the eighteen pound fare made her think again about money not being that important. 

"Nice outfit luv," the cheeky, surprisingly young, but rather fanciable cabby said as he looked at Sammi leaning forward offering him the twenty pound note through the cab window. She had become so used to wearing the white coat she tended to forget how revealing it could be, especially when she leaned forward as she was now. "Off to a fancy dress party?" He added 

"Shit he can see my tits," she thought, feeling a tinge of embarrassment, but also a shock of excitement. 

"What the fuck is happening to me?" She asked herself as she pulled the sides of the jacket she was wearing over the coat together, said "Keep the change" turned and walked away, purposefully, she acknowledged, but as good as unconsciously, she knew , accentuating the wiggle of bare arse under the nurses outfit.

She had to ring a bell outside the locked doors of the La Crème agency in Knightsbridge, for it was closed up. The intercom buzzed.

"Hi, Sammi?" She heard Emma ask?

"Yes."

The buzzer went and the outer door unlocked as Emma's voice over the intercom told her to come in and go to the sitting room, as the La Crème people called their boardroom. It was the place where Emma had told her about the new clinic a week or so ago. The offices were dim for most of the lights were out, but it was light enough for Sammi to find her way. She tapped on the sitting room door that was ajar, a marginally brighter light coming through the gap.

"Come right on in Sam," Emma called out.

Undoing the short blue jacket that La Crème had recently added to the uniform, partly as Autumn was arriving, but mainly because many of the girls had complained that when they travelled in the white tunic they got too many men staring at their tits, Sammi walked in to the room.

She was amazed to see how Emma was dressed. She was wearing what Sammi quickly worked out was an updated version of the very old fashioned sort of nurses uniform that pictures of Florence Nightingale and the like wore in Victorian times, during the Crimean war for instanced.

It was made from a slightly shiny, black material, a bit like taffeta, and it had a furled collar that scooped down across Emma's great tits, creating a deep cleavage. It was very tight across Emma's bust, chest and waist around which she was wearing a white apron that came down to about her mid thigh. Beneath that Sammi couldn't see any buttons, but the skirt was a few inches above the knee and again very tight.

"Hi Sammi, how are you?" Emma said brightly, slowly turning on the spot. "What do you think of the new uniform?"

"What for La Crème?" The blonde asked her eyes searing in on the amply gorgeous roundness of Emma's bum inside the shiny material that was moulded tightly across her buttocks and legs, looking as if it had been sprayed on her body.

"No for Mike's new clinic staff," Emma replied pirouetting again letting Sammi take in the black hosiery, the row of tiny buttons from Emma's waist to mid way up her cleavage, the slight wobble as she moved hinting at no bra and the tiny wrinkles at her ankles suggesting she was wearing stockings and not tight. Emma stood still facing Sammi, she put her hands on her hips, her legs slightly parted and asked.

"Well?"

Sammi couldn't reply at first for the uniform was overtly sexy and extremely erotic; it was made more so for her when she saw the very clear indentation of Emma's hardened nipples.

"Wow," I suupose.

"I just got the prototypes from the dressmaker and thought you would like to be the first to see it," Emma explained inviting Sammi to sit on one of the sofas and getting her the requested drink of a white wine spritzer, Emma had vodka.

There was a low coffee table in front of the gold, suede type material covered sofa. Emma perched herself down on that, her knees pointing at Sammi, the skirt riding up her legs as she sipped her drink.

"What do you think of it?"

"It's great," Sammi replied honestly adding, "why do the outfits have to be so er, um, sexy I guess."

"Do you think they are Sammi? Do you think they are really sexy?"

"Yes of course I do, all the girls do."

"And does the marvellous Mike think that as well?" Emma asked taking a sip of her drink and looking right at the young nurse over the rim of her glass.

Sammi answered a little frostily.

"I don't know and I'm not sure I care too much."

"Oh? How's that a lover's tiff?"

"We aren't and never will be lovers."

"That's a very long time Sammi," Emma said standing up and looking down at blonde nurse, getting pretty much the same view as the cabby had earlier. "Anyway, you didn't come here to tell me about shagging Dr Steven's did you?"

Looking up at Emma, Sammi was struck again by the ample size and gorgeous roundness of her full breasts.

"No I didn't and I haven't, I told you."

"I bet you would like to though, wouldn't you?"

"I never go with attached men."

"I didn't ask you that, I asked if you would like to?"

"Not now no."

"Why because of his new treatment method and 'cos he asked you to be part of it?"

"Yes, I think he should not have asked, it's wrong, immoral even."

Emma smiled. "Don't be silly, it's advanced medical science."

They talked about the morals or otherwise of Mike's new way of treating sexual dysfunctionality for some time.

"Let me show you something," Emma said moving over to a pc on a desk off to one side, "come over here." She patted a chair beside the one she perched on.

They were quite a contrast. Emma fortyish, Sammi mid twenties; Emma dark, Sammi blonde; Emma full busted and curvaceous, Sammi small chested and slim; Emma wearing a sexy black nurses outfit, Sammi a white sexy uniform. Apart, quite different, but together a combination of sheer sex on legs.

"These are you test results."

"What test?"

"Those you took at the interviews."

Emma scrolled down until Sammi's name came up. Under it, Emma pointed, were the names of the various tests she had taken and a percentage.

"That's where you rank in the population for that test."

"How do you mean?" Sammi asked, genuinely interested in the tests for she was intrigued by measuring peoples' psyches.

Emma ran the cursor down the screen highlighting a series of test names and scores. "Well in this test we measure your Moral Conventionality and there are only 15% of the population who are less conventional than you. In this, Setting Own Standards there are only 10% who are less likely to work to their own standards and in this, Receptiveness to Alternatives you are in the top 5%."

"So what does it all mean?" Sammi asked, slightly bemused, but slowly beginning to see what Emma was saying, just as she realised their knees were touching, her white nylon covered knee and Emma's black nylon covered one.

Before answering Emma highlighted one further test name and score. It read Social Repression, 5%.

Emma turned towards Sammi and smiling said softly.

"In short, you have the morals of an alley cat Sammi and are up for anything."

"Oh fuck off," Sammi couldn't resist saying, "You're making it up."

Emma pressed her knee more firmly, Sammi moved hers, Emma's followed, but just brushed Sammi's.

"So what's this test then?" Sammi asked pointing out one that said DQ.

"That's stands for decorum quotient."

"And that means?"

"Again, in short, whilst, you are not likely to comply with normal standards on sexual morality you will probably disregard social conventions and will probably be uninhibited, you will act with decorum and style and will have a sophisticated approach and attitude."

"Really, is that all true, those tests can measure all that?" Sammi asked genuinely impressed, for actually what Emma was saying was broadly true.

"Yes, I have used them for some time now, Mike helped develop them and they have proved to be very accurate," Emma said as she got up and freshened their drinks. "So you see Sammi," she said handing the glass to her young nurse, "Mike was not being assumptive, rude or insensitive, I had briefed him on the test results, he was perhaps a little hasty."

"He was bloody hasty as good as asking me to fuck half his patients."

"Well not half," Emma replied. "From looking at his patient load and case notes."

"You see those?" Sammi asked a little incredulously."

"Of course, I'm setting up his new computer systems. Seventy four percent of his patients are female," she said turning and walking across the room, the tight, shiny material of the amazing nurse's dress clinging to her "to die for" arse. Emma went on quoting percentages and numbers that she seemed to know off by heart, about the various types of sexual problems. "So there," she said with a flourish, opening a wardrobe door. "There are only about twelve male patients and fourteen female where you would need to be part of the role-play."

"At the moment," Sammi replied.

"Yes of course at the moment and yes that will increase, but soon, end of Q1 we have planned, you will be able to hire an assistant. So that's all not too bad is it Sammi and, of course don't forget the money."

Emma had made the second and third spritzers much stronger so she wasn't surprised at the quite dramatic change in Sammi's approach."

"No I suppose it isn't really."

"So you'll do it then?"

"I'll think about," Sammi said, knowing full well that, indeed she would do it.

Chapter 2

Mike, who was usually the coolest and most collected of men, was excited. Everything was going great, his grand plan, his big ambition, establishing his own clinic, looked as though it really was about to happen. The Saudis and the German's had come through with the big money, his bank had valued his house at far more than he had expected and they had confirmed that they were prepared to lend him the three hundred thousand he needed to make up the half million the backers insisted he put in. Emma had agreed to be the operations manager, he had recruited most of the staff he needed and, as importantly as most other things in many ways, last evening over dinner, Sammi had said she was on board. 

And finally, his one time mentor, Sir Bernard Prestle, an emeritus professor of advanced psychiatry at Oxford, had agreed to join him as Clinical and Medical Supervisor. To get him to take that on was a real feather in Mike's cap and an enormous fillip for his new treatment method; with Bernard's support, the whole BMA would be likely to be behind it, making funding easier and referrals from other consultants an inevitability.

Although only in his early fifties, Bernard was probably the leading light in treating sexual and other similar emotional neuroses by treatments based upon Freudian as opposed to Jungian theories. They had been close ever since Mike was at medical school where Bernard was the youngest professor in his field in the world. Despite being only ten or so years older, Mike looked on Bernard as his surrogate father, his having died when he was in his early teens. So, on all grounds, clinical, business, reputation, emotional and pure friendship, Mike was delighted that Bernard and he would once work together.

So now both the clinic and his launch of his revolutionary interactive neuroses therapy really did look as though they were going to happen.

Even things with Claire were going well, although Mike had no idea why.

Sitting in the high backed chair, his wrists tied to the bar behind him, his ankles to the legs he was naked and blindfolded. He was erect, stunningly so. The sensory deprivation of the blindfold and the restrictions of the straps was such a turn on that even if he couldn't see Claire, but could only hear her moving round the bedroom, it had made him hard, harder than he had been for some time.

"What's going on Claire?" He called wondering.

"Be patient, you'll find out soon."

He heard and felt her moving close to him, he could also smell her perfume. He felt material brush against his bare arm, smooth material, not a dress though and certainly not the lace or silk of a nightgown.

"How do you feel?" she asked standing behind him.

"Fantastic, tremendously aroused and absolutely as horny as I could be."

"Mmmmmm lovely," she whispered, pleased with her efforts and their effect on him so far. "Well," she went on her fingers running across his bare chest and finding a nipple that she, rather harshly pinched, making him wince with the sudden pain.

"Ooooo," he grunted.

"Don't be a baby, or I'll give you something to really moan about," she went on reaching down and stroking his cock, feeling pleased that it was hard, very hard, hard enough to fuck with, she thought.

"Now that's a nice threat."

"No darling," she whispered that was a promise, her fingers going to the blindfold. "Would you like me to take this off?"

"Yes, yes please."

"Would you like to see me?" She asked loosening it.

"Of course, yes."

"See what I am wearing, what I look like?"

"Yes, yes Claire, I would."

She undid the blindfold but left it over his eyes. He went to shake his head to remove it.

"No, don't do that; leave it where it is until I tell you to shake it off."

Claire moved round and stood in front of him a few feet across the room from where he was tied to the chair.

"You can shake it off now," she said quietly.

"Oh my fucking Lord. Good God alive Claire," he groaned, "You look amazing."

As indeed she did.

She was wearing her crisp, white, lawyer's shirt complete with the winged collar. She was wearing her straw coloured barrister's wig with the short pony tail. She was wearing the black, flowing courtroom gown. She was wearing the dark stockings that are de rigeur for lady barristers in the high courts of London and she was wearing the sensible, mid height, heeled shoes that are comfortable to stand in when examining or cross examining. And that was it. No skirt, no other cover, no panties and no bra, not even a suspender belt for the seamed stockings were holdups. Apart from where the silver stud near to her Adam's apple was holding the two sides of the winged collar together, her shirt was open, her tits were bare and they were poking out through the starched cotton. Her nipples were hugely erect; her unkempt, as good as untrimmed and certainly never shaved, bush of pubic hairs was clearly on display at the top of her chunky, full thighs, which were slightly parted showing the glistening lips of her pussy that was clearly soaked. Claire simply stood there, a small smile on her face, one hand on her hip, the other dangling by her side as she said.

"So Sir Bernard, do you want to fuck me now?

Chapter 3

He had never been to Saudi before. He had done some consulting work in Qatar and Bahrain and had been to Dubai on holiday a couple of times, but had never had reason to visit the main country in the Middle East, Saudi Arabia. And from what he had heard he wasn't looking forward to it. What with the restrictions on women, no booze and the lack of practicality any form of entertainment: cinemas, theatres, pubs, bars and clubs and its seemingly excessively harsh laws, it really had little attraction for him. Other than one that is, yes there was one thing driving him to come here. Money. There was plenty of that in this oil rich, tax free kingdom and some of it had been half-promised to him.

Mike Stevens was trying to put a deal together to open a private clinic in Berkshire, England. He was sure that the revolutionary approach he and a couple of colleagues had developed to treat deep rooted psychotic disorders and neuroses would be a success. He had it all worked out, the location, the key staff, the marketing and the treatment processes. His financial projections modestly, he and his accountant felt, indicated a break-even after two years, a million profit in year three and then just upwards and onwards after that. The only problem was that he needed nearly twenty million sterling to get it up and running. 

His partner Claire, a barrister who specialised in corporate law, had introduced him to some German financiers she had met during a deal she worked on. They were solid people, with reasonable backing and, Claire had found out during the deal, a healthy attitude towards sex. In her terms, that meant when the business was finished, she got fucked. And most nights when the deal was being completed that is exactly what she and Korlen Gunter, the guy to whom she had introduced her partner of ten years, did in the Intercontinental hotel in Dusseldorf. 

Mike and Claire had met with Korlen several times. It was particularly interesting for Claire to sit in on the meetings, lunches and dinners in both Dusseldorf and London, with two men she had slept with; Mike, her lover of ten years, and Korlen her lover of hardly more than ten minutes. Obviously, the German knew that Mike was shagging her. What intrigued, but didn't concern her particularly, for her relationship with Mike was pretty open, was whether Mike felt she had slept with Korlen.

As it turned out, Korlen and his private equity group were stretched at the time. "Well the German economy is a bit fucked at the moment," he had said, looking right at Claire as the word fucked slipped through his lips, making her almost giggle. He had agreed, though, that they would come with five mil, but no more. 




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 05



"I do know some people, though that are big in health care and are just dripping with money, who might be interested in this." Korlen had said, as his foot pressed on Claire's under the table in Claridges where they were dining one evening

"Really, going to tell me who?" Mike asked sliding a slither of monkfish that must have cost about five pounds into his mouth.

"Just one problem, in some ways, they are Saudi, quite near to the royal family actually."

"What's the problem?"

"Saudis are so difficult to deal with. They take ages to make their minds up, change it often and then decide something completely different."

"But they have the money?" Mike asked.

"Oh yes the al Korensi family is close to the King and was granted the contract to run most of the hospitals in Riyadh and Jeddah. They have the money ok. The problem is the old man Abdullah who we have always dealt with is on his last legs and his two sons, both in their twenties are starting to run the business, and they are unknown quantities.

After having several meetings cancelled in London and one in Berlin, Mike understood perfectly what Korlen was talking about. There just wasn't the urgency or organised approach that European and English business relied on about them. An appointment in a diary was only good until something more attractive, such as a grand prix, a horse race in Australia or polo in Argentina, came up, then it was ditched; no apology, no explanation.

Korlen did manage to organise one meeting, though, and Mike had felt it went well. He had given them a presentation and was quite impressed by the questions the two young men asked at the Dorchester Hotel where they were staying. He had followed that up with a detailed proposal, but had heard nothing for some time until this invitation to visit them.

"That must be good news for Mike, isn't it?" Claire asked as she climbed down from the front seat of the black Ranger over and got into the back.

"Probably, but you never know, they might just be using it to impress dad," Korlen said, joining her there and immediately cupping one of her large breasts in his hand.

They had both found an attraction to having sex in places where there was a danger of being caught. Hence, they were in car park in woods near to Elstree where Korlen had a small mews type house. That gave them, and especially Claire, the double whammy of fucking in a car park and doing it close to where his wife lived.

And fuck they did. They didn't undress, though, and in some ways, keeping her loose baggy dress on, but having Korlen remove her bra and panties, made it all the more exciting. Especially, when at one time the dress was bundled up round her neck and his cock was between her breasts that she was holding together to make a surrogate cunt for him to fuck.

It was a particular turn on for Claire to go home to the house she shared with Mike in Islington, with her bra and panties in her bag and her breasts still sticky from where she hadn't washed away all of Korlen's spunk. 

Mike was impressed and depressed by Saudi in about equal measures. It was far more modern, clean and friendly than he imagined, but at the same time, the heat, the crowds, the bartering and the absence of, what it, fun, was he decided, pissed him off enormously.

He had been booked into a very swish hotel in Riyadh, near to the new government buildings and embassies and had to kick his heels there as Korlen's contact, Brahim a Lebanese, set up the meeting; nothing as simple, Mike frowned, as agreeing a time and just having the meeting. Oh no, one party he was suppose to meet was in Jeddah and the other in Yanbu, to which either town the meeting might be switched. He had phone call after call with Brahim and Korlen, both of whom telephonically shrugged their shoulders as if say. "Well this is Saudi and that's how it is out here."

After four of the most frustrating days of his life and just when he was about to give up and go home, he got a positive call. He was sitting by the men only pool, the women had one too, at the hotel when Brahim called to say there was going to be a meeting at the Prince Banda military Hospital at eight this evening.

"With one of the al Korensis?" He asked.

"Maybe, but unlikely, one of their aides probably, a trusted one, though, so it's a very positive step, he will decide whether they should see you or not."

"How?"

Mike heard Brahim laugh down the phone. "Only Allah and the al Korensis know that."

"Gee thanks."

As it happened the meeting went well. At the end of it, after he had suffered the embarrassment of having to sit in an office when the aide went into another room and without shutting the door gave prayers to Allah kneeling on the floor, he was asked to wait.

"This is Mike Stevens," the aide said from behind him.

Mike turned and saw and old, frail man.

"This is Sheikh Abdullah," the aide said.

The meeting didn't last more than five minutes, but it was, Mike realised with excitement, with the top man.

Abdullah was polite yet businesslike, but, Mike felt with a degree of frustration, not that well informed on the clinic project. Still, he rationalised, there was some movement and hope, especially when he said.

"My sons should be available within a couple of days to meet with you, but in the meantime I would like you to meet our consultant on such matters."

He told Mike that he would be called at his hotel and the meeting would happen tomorrow, sometime, maybe, if not the next. Getting used to the Middle Eastern "manana" habits, he took that with a pinch of salt. 

Naked, following his third shower of the day, Mike called Claire. 

"Bollocks, where the fuck is she?" He wondered, leaving a message for her to call him, stressing, only if she returned within the next hour, aware that the UK was three hours behind Saudi and he didn't want to be woken in the middle of the night, if she was out on one of her jaunts. "I wonder who she is fucking at the moment?" He thought, as he had a pee and flicked through the channels of mind numbing boredom on the TV.

"I am imagining you sucking Sammi's tits." Claire said down the phone, no more than twenty minutes later after they had chatted for a minute or two and Mike had asked what she was doing.

"What?"

"Yes she has that white coat on, it's open and she is naked underneath."

"Where did that come from?" Mike asked.

"Just the pits of my filthy mind."

"Yes so I see."

"See, you mean hear, don't you?"

"Well yes of course, sorry."

"Want to hear more?"

"What, about Sammi?"

"Yes, want to hear what I am imagining you doing to her?"

"Sure, why not? Actually yes I would love to."

"Where are you?" Claire asked.

"In my bedroom."

"In bed?"

"No on it?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Nothing."

"Mmmmmm, how delicious, are you hard?"

"No, not yet."

"Do you want to be?"

"Why yes, that would be nice. What are you wearing?"

"Absolutely fuck all, I'm completely naked, I took everything off when I decided to call you."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I want to have phone sex, I want to fuck you over the phone."

"How?"

"How would you like me to fuck you?"

"Anyway you want." Mike said, his hand, as if guided by some form of sexual arousal instrument, going to his cock that was now starting to harden.

"I'm playing with my tits, Mike, just as you do and just as my mind is imagining you playing with Sammi's."

"Are your nipples hard?"

"Mmmmm, wonderfully so," Claire replied pulling first one and then, after she switched the phone to loudspeaker, both at the same time. "God I wish you were chewing them Mike," she went on recalling that little under an hour ago that was precisely what Korlen had been doing, as they stood in a shop doorway in Highgate Road.

Mike's cock was growing quickly. He stroked it.

"God C, I'm getting hard so quick."

"How hard are you?"

"Very hard now," Mike replied looking down and seeing that his erection had reared all the way up his flat belly almost to his naval.

"Are you hard enough to fuck me?"

"Yes Claire well hard enough to do that."

"Well fuck me then, bend me over and fuck me, make me cum. Wank yourself Mike."

"I am you stupid bitch," he muttered as his hand started to pump faster. "You do it as well."

"I am listen."

"Oh fuck yes," Mike blurted out as he heard the buzz of her vibrator.

"I'm doing my tits first Mike, each nipple then each tit, Ok?"

"Mmmm wonderful."

They had never had phone sex before, but then they were never parted for very long so this was different.

"Now it's on my clit, is that what you want."

"Yes let me suck you clit, let me lick it and suck it."

"Are you wanking hard."

"Very hard."

"Good, do it faster."

He did. "What about you, Claire?"

"I am just about to shove this vibrator right up my cunt and pretend it's your cock fucking me," she lied, for it was her German lover that was in her mind. It was him, for he had sucked her tits, shoved his hand up her skirt and fingered her, but hadn't fucked her and that had left her feeling extraordinarily horny when she arrived back at their house just ten minutes ago, her panties still wet. Hence, wanting to phone fuck her long-term live in partner.

"Shove it up," Mike croaked also feeling extraordinarily randy as he now, very quickly rubbed his cock. "Hurry C, you've made me feel so fucking horny I'll cum soon."

"So will I," Claire answered truthfully, the memory of Korlen's mouth on her tits and fingers up her pussy and the buzzing, throbbing vibrator in her cunt, sending her quickly towards the promised land of orgasmic delight that she so needed to visit.

"Aaaaaargh," Mike groaned. "You've done me you bitch I'm cumming."

"Good, cum, Mike, cum with me, I am cumming right now."

"Yes you horny bitch," he moaned as he felt his balls tighten and cock shudder as they got ready to do their primary job, well after peeing that is.

"Cum on my tits, cum On Sammi's tits," Claire grunted as her cunt seemed to catch fire and her tits seemed about to explode.

"On both tits, I'm cumming on your's and Sammi's tits."

"Yes my big, fat tits, Sammi's little small ones."

"Claire's huge soft titties and Sammi's pert, firm tits," Mike grunted as his cock exploded. "I've cum."

"So am I, so am I," Claire moaned as she held the throbbing vibrator as far up her as she could and, at the same time, roughly and furiously in the throes of her climax, squeezed the soft flesh of her big tits.

"Oh yes," Mike sighed as his sperm shot up his body, one globule hitting his chin, the rest splashing over his chest.

Part 6 will be up soon. In that Sammi has a holiday with her best friend Mel. They go to Barbados and I bet you can guess what happens there! His name is Wilson. Mike's back in Saudi and finds out about the other side of that strict country, Thai girls who just love threesomes, particularly when they are arranged by Emma. Does she join in? Wait and read and you will find out.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 06



Ok, those of you who have been following the "Uniform" know most of the characters and where the story has been, you may even have an idea as to where it's going. 

To my first-timers, welcome.

This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny to me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

I am planning to present the story to Lit in a series of parts over the next few months, so you will have something to read as we go through autumn. I wonder how far we will have got before winter sets in?

If you have come straight to this part, I would strongly suggest you read Part 1 first.

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

I really hope you enjoy what may well be my magnum opus and possibly my last submission to Literotica. Do let me know won't you?

*

Chapter 1

It had been Mike who had put the idea in Sammi's head. She had told him that she wasn't sure she could do what he wanted in the role-play therapy, but that she was thinking about it.

"Tell you what," he said, "I have to go to Saudi in a couple of weeks time to tie up the details on the deal, why don't you take a holiday and think everything all the way through."

"Ok thanks, that sound a good idea."

"If you would like I could arrange for you to use a friend's house in Barbados, it really is lovely, and it would be free."

"Really?" Sammi replied, a little suspicious and getting the feeling it might be some form of "persuasion."

"Yes, this friend has Barbadian residence for tax purposes, but spends most of his time in Australia so he needs the house to be occupied and the gas and electricity used to show the authorities that he's there."

"He's not though, if I use it."

Mike laughed. "Don't complicate things, ten days in Barbados for the cost of your air fare, why worry about Brad's tax problems?"

Sammi phoned her closest friend, Mel. She had bucketfuls of money, plenty of free time, loved the sun and had, how had Emma described her, oh yes, the sexual morals of an alley-cat; just the sort of girl to go on holiday with, Sammi smiled as Mel said that she would love to come with her.

The ten days in Barbados with her old friend were fantastic. As it turned out it was also somewhat of a watershed on her life. Not only did she finally make her mind up about the new therapy and job, she also found the pleasure of being fucked by a big cock; a big black one as well come to that and a big, black one that was on an older man.

She had always preferred older men. Why? She had no real answer to that, simply assuming some form of father complex, but she didn't try to analyse it further. Why bother when she was happy with it and got more pleasure from sex with forty to fifty year olds than she did with guys her own age. That's not to say she didn't dabble now and then with young guys and, in fact, in Barbados on the second evening, the two of them met up with a couple of Dutch guys ending up in their beds.

Mel was her oldest friend. They had known each other since they were five or so and they totally confided in each other. Whilst they were incredibly close, trusted each other implicitly and probably loved each other there had never had never been any form of sex between them. Not between them, but when they were teenagers they had had sex in the same car with two guys and once on holiday in Ibiza a couple of years ago, in the same bed with two guys. But much to both pairs of blokes chagrin the two of them hadn't "played." It was just not what two really close girl friends did. It was different with Roni, Sam felt; she wasn't a real intimate and such an old friend, almost sister, like Mel.

"Yes on balance, I think I would do it if I were in your position." Mel had said when Sammi had explained the situation at the clinic and the new therapy. "I mean it is, after all, medically sound, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, without a doubt."

"Even the uniform?" Mel had said smiling referring to the white coat that she had seen Sammi in.

"Well that's not really Mike or the clinic, that's Emma and La Crème, and that's different." Sammi said, the fantastically erotic, black dress and white apron Emma had modelled for her, flashing into her mind.

"But she's going to run the placed isn't she?"

"Yes but for a different company, not the agency."

"Oh well as will maybe. If it's a proper thing, then why not take the money and fuck. After all what's the difference between that and paying for dinner at the Ivy or a night at Tramp by opening your legs."

Sammi smiled at her friend's vulgar, but probably true analogy.

"You don't think that getting money for sex is immoral."

"What's that?"

"Ok I get the point."

"And talking about sex," Mel said, "those Dutch guys over there have been giving us the eye for ages."

Mel's advice was the clincher for Sam. She respected her friend, not just because she was bright, but also because she was sharp and worldly-wise with a pragmatic view on sex. She also got on well with her for Mel was probably even more selectively promiscuous than she.

She had also done quite a lot of research on the net, at the BMA and in the Royal College of Nursing library. Mike was absolutely correct in everything he had told her other than he was not quite the leading pioneer and luminary he had implied. The movement in reactionary counselling, as it was also called, was, not surprisingly, the Swedes, where sexual neuroses caused suicides were, per capita, the highest in the world. A couple of eminent psychiatric groups in the US had taken it up and were now actively promoting and using it with, so they claimed, amazing results. She read quite a lot about the moral dilemma of the trained medical staff that were required in the role-plays and that was reassuring, in the main. Just how she would feel, though, when she kissed a woman or a bloke fucked in front of Mike, she couldn't imagine.

Her mind made up she put all of those concerns to one side to enjoy her holiday with Mel, catch up on all the gossip from back home, get some sun and, hopefully, get fucked a few times.

By the fourth day she had achieved all of the first three, but only part of the fourth. The Dutch boys had fucked 'em and left 'em, the bastards.

Chapter 2

As Sammi was sunning herself and getting laid in Barbados, Mike was in an even hotter place and was not likely to get laid. He was In Riyadh. It was around one hundred and ten each day and, or so it seemed, around one hundred and nine each night.

In the hotel, where he spent most of his time as usual waiting for meetings that had been scheduled for certain times to happen, there were no women. None of the staff and none of the guests were female, other than Arab wives all covered up looking a little like penguins, he thought. Other than the odd expat wife, again all covered up and closely accompanied by a husband or a "bodyguard" from the company that employed their husband, he saw no women, not in the shops, along the streets, on the buses or driving cars. There were no bars, obviously, no cinemas or theatres, nothing entertaining at all. You couldn't even access porn or girly site on the Internet, the miserable sods.

"What a fucking dump" he had thought several times and gave his thanks for the regular phone sex he had with Claire.

His last trip, which was his first, all the other meetings about the funding had been in Düsseldorf or London, had been the same. There was the minor excitement of discovering this new culture and the mild expectation that it couldn't really be as bad as most said and that surely, somewhere you could find sex, even if you paid for it. It was every bit as bad, if not worse and as far as he could see, you certainly could not find sex.

In some ways meeting Emma had been awful. 

For the only time he was in Saudi, a meeting happened when it was supposed to; Abdullah's involvement he wondered. He got a call, a Merc, with blacked out windows picked him, on time and he was whisked to the King Fahd hospital just to the south of Riyadh on what used to be the Al Kharj road, but was now an eight lane superhighway. After passing through what was, by some margin, the strictest security he had encountered, far more so than at airports or the government building he visited, he was in the hospital. 

And suddenly there were women, Western women, Indians, Pilipino and Thai. Women nurses, women with legs, albeit covered, women with skirts, albeit long and, unlike women in the shapeless black robes of the Arabs, women with breasts. Just walking past the wards and seeing them started to give him a hard on.

Although, in many ways, his meeting with Sunni al Korensi was the most important of his life, the visions of, what in reality were probably fairly ordinary looking girls who he probably never give a second glance to ordinarily, distracted him. But if that was distraction, then when he was introduced to Missus Emma, as Sunni called her, their consultant on hospital management, he was lost completely.

She was, he thought, absolutely fucking gorgeous. Of course she had to cover up, none of the La Crème type nurses outfits out here, so Emma was wearing a long loose dress, almost a robe and a head scarf. He could see she was beautiful and, although the long, flowing garment covered most of her curves, a movement or a gesture would occasionally stretch the thin material across her breasts her bum, showing Mike that both appeared to be nicely shaped, and full.

She said little during the meeting, just answering a few questions Sunni had on Mike's plan and proposal, As it ended she left the room with Sunni, who had said for Mike to remain there. He sat twiddling his thumbs for half an hour or so, reading some papers to do with the deal.

"How about lunch?" He heard a female voice asking and, turning was pleased to see it was Emma.

"Can we do that?" He asked standing.

Smiling and pushing the head scarf off her head, she looked him right in the eye, and rather flirtatiously said. "Mike, when you know your way around Saudi, you can do anything, and I do know my way around."

He walked alongside and occasionally behind her through a myriad of corridors. It was, he often reflected, the most erotic walk he had ever had. He saw more and more nurses, some quite pretty, was continually smelling Emma's lovely perfume and, particularly when he moved behind her to go through doors, he saw the enticing wiggle of what he was now convinced was a great arse. In normal circumstances the walk through the huge hospital would not have been anything special, but in women and sex starved Saudi, it was an incredible turn on for him

Chapter 3

When she had booked the holiday with Mel she had contacted Wilson. She had got to know him when she worked at her first hospital job in Birmingham. Wilson and his wife Gemma had been so kind to Sammi and she had spent lots of time with them, all three of them being nurses at the same hospital. They had kept in touch when Sam moved to London, but when Wilson went home to Barbados four or so years ago, after Gemma had been tragically killed in a road accident, they had lost contact with each other, although they still exchanged Christmas and birthday cards. She had phoned him from the UK just after she had booked the holiday and he had invited her to come to his home. 

"It's quite near to the flash area you are staying, Sam," he had advised. "Give me a ring when you're there and make all the arrangements."

She had told Mel about it, who had, so she reminded Sammi, met him and Gemma when she had come up to the hospital for a ball.

"If I remember he was very tasty, how old would he be now?

"Around forty, maybe forty two."

"Just right for you then," Mel smiled, knowing too well her friend's penchant for older men. "Maybe he's got a friend."

Mel understood that Sammi wanted to be by herself with Wilson, catching up on old times, so she arranged for a day round the pool.

It wasn't planned; it hadn't been hinted at or thought about; not in all time they had known each other. It was the furthest thing from both their minds, well the conscious parts of them at least. And it wasn't her, it wasn't him and it wasn't them. It was circumstances. It was the circumstance of their long friendship, the circumstance of the three of them being so close and the circumstance of Gemma now not being with them. It was the circumstance of Sammi being in Wilson's home country, in his home town, in his home and then in his arms as they embraced on the doorstep of the small, neat bungalow. It was the circumstance of her wearing a little sun top and a skimpy shirt, nothing else, him wearing white shorts, tight ones and a yellow vest. It was the circumstance of Sammi crying as they spoke of Gemma, of Wilson consoling her and of him telling her there was no one else. Yes it was the combination of all those circumstances that caused them to fuck, that caused Sammi to stay with him all night, that caused him to fuck her many times and caused her to come to adore his great big, hard cock. It was true what they said about black guys she found out; something that had never really crossed her mind, until Wilson.

So, as they kissed hello, as he cuddled Sammi, as he held her, as she clung to him and as they consoled each other over their tragic loss, they found something else; another emotion, another feeling, something that had lain dormant and hidden in each of them all these years, a strong lust for each other.

And that caused the intended peck on the cheek to become a kiss on the lips. The kiss of friendship to become, a mouth open, lip squirming, tongue plunging kiss of likely lovers. The tender embrace to become an, almost, bear hug of a cuddle. The holding of each other to become a grinding of their bodies and the light touches that two old friends give each other to become urgent, enquiring caresses.

Nothing like it had happened to them before. They couldn't understand what was happening, their minds were reeling, their bodies were aflame with passion and their emotions were running riot with lust for the other.

There could only be one solution, one outcome, one result. After just a moment or two, that became an inevitability, it was as certain as night follows day. Following just a few moments in each others arms, there was no alternative whatsoever other than for them to have sex; urgent, hard, fast and dirty sex. 

Chapter4

Mike and Emma had lunch in a villa in the vast grounds of the hospital that they reached by using a golf buggy and which turned out to be where Emma lived in Saudi. 

She had sat him in a beautifully furnished lounge and had given him a drink, surprising Mike with her well stocked bar. She had left him alone for a few minutes. When she returned his heart had started to pound, for she was wearing a western style dress that was short, tight, thin and revealing. And yes he had seen, she did have great tits and a fabulous arse

It was served by a pretty Thai girl who was continually popping in and out of the dining room.

Emma explained her role to Mike and told him a little about her history with the al Korensi family. He learned that she was a qualified nurse and had worked in numerous hospitals becoming a sister at Barts at the very young age of twenty eight.

She explained that she had become frustrated at the poor money so, after divorcing her first husband and needing more, she went to work in nursing recruitment. That was how she got to know Abdullah al Korensi, some fifteen years ago. She didn't exactly say it, for she liked people to think the success of La Crème was all down to her, but Mike guessed the money for that had come from the family. 

As they ate lunch and sipped a dry white, French wine she told him that she had first worked for them supplying nurses on contract, but then in addition to that she had, over the years become a consultant to them and had worked with them on numerous deals including the two private hospitals they owned in the UK and the big deal when they bought six in California.

Over coffee after lunch, sitting side by side on a sofa, the hem of Emma's skirt a good six inches above her knees, Mike's cock exploded into a full erection. It wasn't just the view of Emma beside him, it was also what she said.

"So Mike I will be working closely with you."

"You'll see a lot of me, here and in London."

"Please ask me anything at any time."

"Get in touch with me whatever the time, I really am a 24/7 woman."

The images that these and other phrases conjured up in his mind were lurid, graphic and pleasantly dirty. They were supposed to be, for that was exactly the images that Emma wanted to conjure up, for she was testing Mike. 

What she had not told him was that in addition to the nursing agency and a couple of other businesses she had told him about, she also ran a small, but highly efficient investigative agency. Working solely in the medical field her agency did background checks mainly for recruitment purposes, but also for the family when they were doing deals. Her findings not only advised them on the financial state of their partners or adversaries in deals but also on their reputations and any other relevant information that might be of use to them. And that included any dirt or scandal that might help their dealings. 

She had recently read the agent's report on Dr Michael Robert Stevens. So she knew that he was a philanderer and that he shagged pretty much anything that came his way. She also knew about Claire and that she too shagged pretty much anything that came her way including the al Korensi's German partner Korlen Gunter who, from her earlier report on him she knew, also shagged pretty much anything that came his way including, as it happens her, several times. 

She made no moral judgements on any of this, for if truth be known and in differing circumstances, she too would probably shag pretty much anything that came her way. But in her position that was not possible. No, Emma reserved her shagging for one reason only, one very special reason and that was business. Other than on a very rare occasion, she no longer fucked for pleasure.

So, as she had purposefully sent those images into Mike's mind, as she put the pressure on him and turned up the heat it was all business.

The investigation into his background had established that he always claimed to "never mix business with pleasure as far as sex was concerned."

Ahmad and Sunni had read that and laughed, not really believing it, for they and everyone they knew was quite the opposite. Emma had been lying naked between them as they laughed and joked about Mike's vow. One of them had said that maybe she should find out how true it was. That was how they worked with her. They would never order her to do anything or be direct and say, "Why don't you try to fuck him Emma?" But that is exactly what they meant by the vague remark. They knew it as well as Emma did.

And that was exactly what this nice little lunch was all about, Emma trying to fuck Mike.

Chapter 5

Sammi was as aware that as Wilson was that sex between was not only inevitable, but also seemed essential. Her body was reacting to him and the circumstances with the feminine alternative to the huge lump that had so quickly grown and was pushing against her flat tummy and thighs.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 06



So there was no resistance at all when Wilson's hand found her breast, she wanted it there, she relished it there and she loved the feel of it there. Her smallish breast, inside the thin top without the cover of a bra came alive the moment he cupped it.

"Oh Sam," he whispered, those marvellous feelings a man gets from touching a breast shooting through his body.

"Shush, don't speak, don't say anything," Sammi whispered back, those marvellous feelings a woman gets from having her bare breasts caressed shooting through her. Her mouth covered his, stopping him saying anything further.

He didn't, but instead kissed her back even harder as his fingers revelled in firstly finding that she was not wearing a bra, secondly enjoying the softness of her breast and thirdly pinching the beautifully erect nipple that announced its readiness for sex by poking up through the thin material

She wasn't thinking, she couldn't, there wasn't room in her mind to cope with the rush of feelings and to think about what they were doing, why they were doing it, where it might lead and the possible repercussions. All she could think about was this big, loveable man who she had known as a dear friend and husband of an even dearer one. This six feet three black hulk of manhood who even now at, probably forty five, had the firm, lithe, trimmed body he'd had in his thirties and which men half his age craved for. It was Wilson, his mouth, lips, hands, body and, of course, the obvious erection that she was so pleased to realise he was unashamedly pressing against her, pushing into her flesh, enquiringly and invitingly. 

Unlike many men when they kissed her for the first time, he didn't try to hide it, he wasn't either, ashamed to show his feelings or, embarrassed at his reaction. No, he was happy to show her in the most illustrative way he could how much he wanted her.

Although rarely an instigator of sex, when involved in it, Sammi played her full part. When her inhibitions had gone, when she relaxed, when she was assured of the man's intentions and when she was aroused she found the confidence to play a very full part indeed. So, as Wilson's hand pulled her top out from the waistband of her skirt, slipped inside the material and thrilled her so much with the skin of his fingers on the bare flesh of her breasts, she reacted; she played her part.

And God was he big, she thought as her hand closed over the shape of his erection outside his shorts.

He pushed himself against her hand, just as obviously and as confidently as she squirmed her tit against his. He was daring her, inviting her, maybe asking her to go further, which was exactly what she wanted to do.

Still with their mouths clamped, their lips squirming and tongues probing, she undid his zip. Fiddling her hand inside, she was restrained by the tightness of his shorts that is until she felt him reach down and undo his belt and the button at the top of his fly. She felt his hand leave her chest and half felt and half saw him push his shorts down, using both hands. He was not wearing anything underneath. He pulled his body away from hers and looked her right in the eye. Without blinking or even smiling and with a deadly serious look on his face he peeled the yellow vest off and stood before her, fully naked. He took her back into his arms, crushing her frail body against his big, black nakedness.

This was what she liked about older men and why she largely rejected guys her age or younger. The confidence and the assurance they had. The way that Wilson had taken his shorts off, the way he was able to be naked before she was, the way that he led her, taking and directing, but not being assumptive or pushy and the way that he made their lovemaking a mutual expedition.

He grunted as she touched his cock, she sighed as one of his hands returned to her breast and the other slid up her microskirt right onto the cheek of her bum. He felt so rampant as her fingers closed round his long smoothness, she felt so wanted as he lifted her top up and over her head. And they both felt fantastic when the whiteness of Sammi's b cup breasts was crushed against the blackness of his muscular torso.

Her skirt seemed to just simply fall away. They kissed more with Wilson alternating his hands between her tits and the pert cheeks of her bum, and Sammi squirming her tummy against his cock, that she had now clearly established was bigger than anything she had previously seen, let alone had.

It had never happened to her before, well not like this, not like when Wilson, without asking, picked her up in his arms, clamped his mouth to hers and carried her into the bedroom and laid her in the middle of a double bed. She looked up at him standing beside it. He was magnificent. Her heart leaped at his shape, his physique, his muscular body and his smooth, glistening blackness. If her heart leaped at those features, it simply pounded with a combination of sheer horniness, wanton anticipation and real concern for her physical well-being, when she looked properly at his cock for the first time. It was not the length that alarmed her, she was pretty sure that would not be a problem, although she had never seen one in the flesh that reached above, actually some way above, a man's navel. It was its thickness that concerned her, that made her pulses race and which made her start panting half with fear, half with expectation. It looked almost as thick as her wrist.

Not only did Wilson look magnificent, standing totally naked and fully erect alongside the bed, he also looked so proud, confident, relaxed and aroused. Not the arrogance she sees in kids, but the assurance that comes with the knowledge that you look good and are good. And with a cock like that, she was thinking, he has every right to feel good.

Wilson knelt on the bed, but Sammi stopped him lying beside her. She wanted to reciprocate first. Looking him right in the eye she lifted her bum from the bed, slid her fingers into her thong and slipped it down her legs so that she too was nude. And that felt very good, particularly when he did lie beside her, when he took her in his arms, when he kissed her again, when he crushed her soft womanliness against his hard maleness and when he thrust his big cock against her soft belly. It felt even better as his hands ran all over her and as hers stroked and caressed his chest, his face, his back, his bum and, of course, of course, of course that immense cock. That felt fabulous to both of them. 

It got even better though.

Wilson eased her onto her back, he laid on top of her supporting his weight with his forearms, he rested his cock on her stomach, the base of it and that thick sinew or tube that runs up the back, pressing right against her clit. He kissed her, tenderly and gently as he moved his body so that he slid between her legs that she opened for him. He smiled reassuringly, probably very aware of what would be going through her mind, he must be used to it, Sammi thought, before wondering, perhaps they are all big in Barbados? She almost smiled when the thought came into her mind "perhaps that is why it is such a popular place for holidays."

Then it was entering her, sliding in, opening her up, stretching her and finally filling her. 

Her womanhood did its job; it expanded to Wilson's cock going in, just as it was designed to expand to a baby coming out. Sure it hurt a little and of course she was tight and apprehensive, but as he penetrated her, it was nowhere near as bad as she feared. But what was so different, what was such a variation to how she thought it would be and what was so much better than even her wildest imaginings would have thought, was the feeling once Wilson had settled himself fully inside her.

All women love the feeling of being filled. It's at the heart of them enjoying being fucked and it's the prime feeling that produces female orgasms and makes them cum. Women love being stuffed, Sammi loved being stuffed and never had she been so filled or stuffed like this. 

It was amazing, she felt as though her entire insides were being pushed around and that her pussy was filled to overflowing, it was like putting too much food in your mouth, but not feeling as though you might gag, instead receiving sexual stimulation everywhere there was food.

Wilson held her tight, gently kissing her face, hair, neck, lips and ears. He so considerately waited until her body adjusted to him and until her pussy lips and insides became used to his size. Then, looking her straight in her eyes he fucked her. He fucked her just as they both wanted it, hard, fast and dirty. He fucked her on her back, on top of him and on her side. He made her cum and cum and cum before exploding inside her. And once he had done that, he did it again and again over the rest of that afternoon, evening and into the night

Chapter 6

To this day Mike has no idea how he resisted her. How he resisted when she leaned forward, touching his knee, laughing at his joke and flashing him a great view of her tits. How he stopped himself when she stood before him sitting on the sofa, the mound of her pubis outlined by the thin material of her dress. And how he prevented himself from sliding his arm round her and pulling her body to his when they were saying good bye and she offered her face to him for a kiss. 

But he had resisted her, somehow, and despite seeing her twice more on that trip, both times them being alone and both times Emma being a highly provocative, he did not succumb to her charms. Not in Saudi or in London where they met several times about both the new clinic and the recruitment of his Consultant Assistant.

They had got to know each other quite well during that process. So well in fact that one evening after dinner at Mike's current consulting rooms they had got slightly drunk. Somehow the subject of sex and mixing it with business had come up and he had said.

"I never do that; it's a cast iron vow of mine."

"Thank God for that," Emma laughed.

"Why?

"I thought I was losing my charm in Saudi when we had lunch."

"Far from it," Mike had replied looking at the outline of her breasts in the tight jacket of her red suit.

They had joked about it quite a bit after that with Emma making remarks such as, "No good wiggling my butt for you is there?" or "Pointless me flashing my tits to you then?"

Mike had been in Riyadh for over a week this time. He had attended numerous meetings as everything was discussed, agreed and finalised. He had not yet seen Emma, but had met Abdullah several times. The next stage would be all the legal work and then the completion which was planned for six weeks time in London.

"Hi fancy a drink, a DVD, dinner, me?" Emma said jokingly down the phone, late one afternoon.

"All three actually." Mike replied, actually meaning it, for after a week with no sex other than a couple of phone calls with Claire, he was feeling very horny, as Emma knew full well he would be; after a week in Saudi men always did. And that was when, if needing to persuade a target, she always put the pressure on. 

She didn't need to persuade Mike though and as she had got to like and respect him she had given up trying.

"Pop over then, we can at least do the first three, and you never know on the fourth do you?"

"Now, now."

"Yes I know."

Emma was wearing jeans and a loose top when Mike first met her, when he got there. After Emma and Mike had had a couple of drinks and had caught up on all the latest gossip, Emma said.

"I have a meeting I have to go to, with Abdullah," Emma said, using meeting loosely for she had been bidden to his Riyadh town house which was where he took her for sex.

"Oh Ok, I'll go then, can you drop me off somewhere?"

"No you stay, you can have a drink, watch some movies, there's few that are er, a little risqué and then call up Khalid and he'll take you to the Hyatt when you want."

"Great, thanks Emma," Mike said the randy feelings rising in him as he saw the outline of her bra strap through the thin blouse. "Meeting my arse," he thought, guessing she was off to be shagged by the old man. "Have a good time, I hope you enjoy it?"

"Fuck, he knows or has guessed," she thought, wishing now that she had tried harder to fuck him so she would have some hold over him.

"What do you mean, enjoy it? It's a bloody meeting."

"Yeah sure." Mike retorted smiling, feeling pleased that Korlen had told him about how she had been shagging Abdullah for years and how he had passed her onto his sons. "Just like bequeathing them a beautiful vintage car, that he's got great pleasure from and which they can now enjoy," was how the German put it, rather eloquently, Mike had thought at the time.

She smiled. "Ok, well, that's my explanation."

Mike smiled as well for, despite her reputation as really being a very, very high class whore and spy, he liked her and by Christ in different circumstances, would he have liked to fuck her.

"As I said, enjoy it then."

"Oh I will, Mike, I will."

Mike decided to push his luck.

"He's still able to get it up then." 

Emma debated whether to reply, for either way that would amount to an admission. She smiled. "We have our ways, Mike."

"I bet you do."

"And I did offer you, so you had your chance. Anyway, I have to get ready."

Emma went out of the room and Mike could hear her in another room moving around. It was only ten minutes or so later when she returned. He was amazed at what he saw. She was wearing the new uniform, the one that the nurses would wear in the new clinic, the one she had modelled for Sammi, the one that Mike had only seen in drawings. The black taffeta dress, the furled collar, the plunging neckline, the tight top, the even tighter skirt, the black seemed stockings and the black mid height heeled shoes.

"Jesus Christ, Emma that looks amazing."

Emma smiled, enjoying the compliment, on both her and the uniform. She did a little curtsey.

"Well thank you kind sir."

"No I mean it," Mike said huskily. "The uniform is fantastic, but surely the girls would have to cover up a bit er um."

"Round the tits, you mean?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Why? Don't you like them?"

"What tits?"

"Yes."

"Of course I do."

"Mine?"

"Yes Emma naturally as any man would." Mike stammered gazing at Emma's magnificent chest.

She smiled again. "Yes of course they will, this is just a mock up, a one off for me, the real ones will be much higher cut."

"So why do you have one of your own?"

"Oh just as a fun thing, something I can wear for special occasions and model for my favourite people."

"So who has seen it then?" Mike asked, feeling a little left out at not being on of Emma's "favourite people.

"Oh Ahmad and Sunni, of course, and tonight, Abdullah."

"I see, just the brass then?" Mike said feeling a little relieved.

"Yes pretty much. Oh and Sammi."

"Sammi? My Sammi."

"Oh is she now?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yes your Sammi, when I told her about the new job."

"Has she got one of these uniforms, these er, um special ones?"

"No, well not yet, but I may have one run up for her. Would you like to see her in that?"

"Yes of course I would, any may would."

"But you never mix business with pleasure like that, do you?"

"No Emma. Anyway you had better get going or I might just change my mind," he said, his cock starting to harden.

"Really?" Emma said turning and facing him, putting one hand on her hip and pushing her tits out.

"Keep it up and yes I might. You must know what being in sexless Saudi does to men"

"Yes I do, but it's not completely sexless." Emma said picking up a long flowing robe that she slipped on over the uniform.

"Well not for you, no."

"And not for you either, really."

"I said Emma if you keep that I might weaken."

"I didn't mean me."

"What did you mean?"

"What would you do in, say San Diego, if you felt like this, very horny?"

"Probably get an escort or a massage."

"And that's exactly what can happen here."

She, of course, hadn't mentioned to him before, as it could get her in terrible trouble, maybe even the death penalty, but as a sideline, she ran a series of escort girls. Masquerading as nurses, she supplied them to high ranking Saudis and their very special guests. As diplomatically as it was done and with all the protection she had from her high profile famous clients, it was still very risky, but that was why the rewards were so huge.

"What?"

"I think you heard Mike."

"I was just making sure I had heard properly. You could arrange an escort?"

"Yes, but for Christ's sake keep that to yourself."

"Where?"

"Where what?"

"Where would I see her? My hotel?"

"Don't be daft, girls can't just walk in a hotel and knock on your door in this country."

"That's what I thought, so where then?"

"Well you could stay here and I could arrange for one, or two if you want to come here."

Mike was amazed at this turn up. Not just and amazed and surprised but very interested and on top of that bloody aroused.

"Two"

"Yes, most of the girls are bi."

"How the hell many do you have then?"

"You don't need to know that," Emma said, hunting through her bag for one the several mobiles she always carried. She found the one that she only used for this business.

"Well?" She asked looking at him, her breasts seeming to be stretching her top, her legs looking longer and her bum looking rounder.

"You sure about this?"

"Of course."

"OK then Emma thank you," Mike said, feeling rather embarrassed and a little helpless at this surprising turn of events.

"One or two, Doctor?" She asked mischievously, her eyes glinting.

"How much is all this going to cost?"

"It's on the house."

"Ok, well two then if that's ok."

Emma went over to her laptop. She pressed a few keys and said.

"Have a look at this."

Mike looked at the screen and saw a picture of a really beautiful Thai girl.

"This is Simoo, Ok?"

"How old is she?"

"Old enough and Kumah is the same age and looks very similar." 



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 07



This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny to me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

I am planning to present the story to Lit in a series of parts over the next few months, so you will have something to read as we go through autumn. I wonder how far we will have got before winter sets in?

If you have come straight to this part, I would strongly suggest you read Part 1 first.

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

I really hope you enjoy what may well be my magnum opus and possibly my last submission to Literotica. Do let me know won't you?

*

Chapter 1

Roni was depressed. Nothing that unusual in that, for she was often depressed, some would say she was always depressed. But this was different; it was not one of the usual topics that was depressing her. It wasn't her lank, mousy hair, her droopy 36 d tits, her sturdy thighs, biggish bum or podgy tum. It wasn't the fact that she couldn't find a real boy friend and that she had a series of short-term relationships, usually ending with them ditching her. It wasn't even the fact that Sammi had gone away, although she would willingly have scratched the eyes out of her scrawny, flat-chested, posh best friend. It was, oddly enough, because she had landed a part.

Roni had slept with or, had given blow jobs to most of the BBC TV and other TV production companies casting directors, the male ones that is; the female ones hadn't wanted blow jobs. And to a large extent that had got her nowhere. Sure a few bits and pieces here and there, the odd play in out of the way reps, walk on parts in TV commercials and several non-speaking extra parts in TV films and some soaps. But in the main her "self-promotion" hadn't met with much success. Then out of the blue a part, a real part, a speaking part, in a soap, a national soap. Ok it was afternoons, the viewers were probably mostly brain dead and fully of eighty year old Aunty Mavises and Uncle Humphs, but it was a pukka part. 

So why had that depressed her? She had seen the fucking briefing sheet sent out to agents when she attended the audition. 

"Plump girl going to seed" was how the writer described the requirement. 

That's what got to her. Not long ago she had been a sex goddess, now a plump girl going to seed. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, she had screamed, when she put the phone down on Allen Green her dodgy, seedy agent.

As she usually did when depressed, Roni went on a bender and got monumentally pissed. That was for about two days. After that she needed something different, something more. Sammi was away with the titless bitch so a fuck with her ideal woman wasn't on, so she phoned Preston Marcombe.

He was a forty something, not very successful "Shakespearian" actor who never actually got any work doing the Bard's stuff. He had got really lucky in a bit part that had led to a TV series where he had made stacks of money, for it was a worldwide, one-off hit. To him, though, it was a derisory series and was nowhere as high brow as he considered himself to be, but he invested the money well, and had hardly worked since, but then he didn't need to for one of his investments had been in a dotcom company that had also made him a fortune.

He was probably married, but refused to talk about his personal life, so Roni wasn't sure. She didn't actually care, though she pretended to, for his sake. Being the "successful actor" he considered himself to be and how he portrayed himself, Preston had a country home, in Gloucestershire, near Jilly Cooper and Prince Charles he would say, and a flat in town; actually quite a nice one, in Hampstead, of course.

It was there that he shagged Roni, there that he abused and demeaned her, tied her up, spanked her and did all manner of things to her that most reasonable women would have objected to. Roni, not being a reasonable woman, took all he could give and came back for more. Just as she was now.

"Come round at nine this evening wearing that grey dress I bought you when I took you to that party and gave you to my friends to fuck," he told her.

"Yes Preston," she meekly replied. "Anything else?" Meaning any other instructions or arrangements.

"No, just shoes, be totally naked under it. I assume you can still get into it?" He asked rubbing salt into her wounds of excessive flesh.

Roni had been seeing Preston for a couple of years after meeting him at an acting workshop he gave. He captivated her with his mature, thespian looks and assuring, confident manner and fucked behind the stage with his long, thin dick, less than an hour after they had met.

He wasn't actually that good shag, she often thought and, going further, sometimes felt he wasn't that interested in penetrative sex. Often, especially in the early days when they saw each frequently, he would lick or finger her to a climax then have her suck him off or he would cum on her big juicy tits. He liked that, but then so did she. Slowly, though, their experiences got weirder, or more adventurous dependent on your viewpoint. Adventurous, if you think that is him making her cum in restaurants and weird, if you feel that him making her pick up a guy in a bar and giving him a BJ as Preston looked on, is a bit pervy. 

With sex, Roni had come to see, you pays your money and you takes your choice; it was all part of being an actress, well a fairly unsuccessful one at least. So she had taken her choice with him and that's why she had dressed up as a schoolgirl, bent over when he told her, let him roll her short skirt up and her full white knickers down and then squirmed, moaned, cried out and finally cum as he spanked her bum. She had paid her money when he tied her up and ran feathers over her until she nearly, but not quite, climaxed. Then he had wanked on her tits and had left her there sticky and smelling as he went out to dinner. 

There had been many other incidents similar to these. Incidents that many, most really, women would hate, but which for some reason did a lot for Roni. She was, she had concluded a clear submissive with a very high need to be abused and demeaned. She was also, she often smiled, a perfect example of a patient for Sammi's flash doctor; there were only two issues with that. Firstly she couldn't afford him and secondly it didn't worry her.

So she pulled the pale grey, silky dress out from the back of her wardrobe. It was a simple dress. Vee necked, buttons all the way down the front, three inches above the knee, pulled in, tightly at the waist and flowing nicely over the flair of the hips and bum. Well that was the theory and how it used to be, Roni thought looking at herself in the mirror in the hall where Sammi dried her hair. It was a vastly different vision when she looked this time though. Gone was the demure, golden blonde clad just in a towel. In its place was an overweight, straggly haired woman in a too tight dress that fitted her badly. Between each button there were gaps where the lapels pulled apart and through which Roni's skin was on view. Her tits were spilling out of it and her cleavage looked like a deep crevice that a man could lose his face in. The material moulded itself round each breast riding over her, always, pronounced nipples, but which now were so evident, and yes of course, she said to herself, were hardening as she looked at herself. Fucking exhibitionist as well, she smiled, cupping her tits and running her hands over them. She knew she would wank before this fitting was over.

Her arse didn't look too bad, big sure, but a good shape, it was her tum. That bulged, sod it, sod it, sod it, she thought, wishing she had stayed on that diet, but then realised she would have not got the part if she hadn't been a plump girl going to seed would she?

So she said, "fuck it" took the dress off and masturbated looking at herself in the mirror. 

As it happened, and Roni was completely aware of this, Preston liked bigger women. He had shown her some photos of what he termed BBWs. Against them Roni was a mere whisp of a woman.

She was on her way to the flat by bus wearing a light coat over the dress when she got a call on her mobile.

"Make it The Crown in Haverstock Hill instead," Preston said, not introducing himself, saying hello or goodbye. 

She walked into the pub. It was crowded, but then it was Friday night. She couldn't see him so went to the bar and ordered a vodka and water. Although she was a ballsy girl and used to being single, but then plump girls going to seed are, she was always a little embarrassed in pubs. After all they are good pulling joints and in Hampstead you did sometimes get working girls and Roni didn't really like being mistaken for one.

"Where the hell is the sod?" she asked herself looking around, sipping her drink and feeling the warmth of the pub getting to her. She wished she hadn't worn the coat, but then she had to, she couldn't possibly take it off.

Nothing happened for ten minutes or so, apart from her finishing her drink, having two guys offer to buy her one, another couple making eyes at her and her becoming hotter and hotter.

Her phone rang.

"Warm are you?" Preston asked.

"Fucking boiling, where are you?"

"I told you to just wear the dress."

"I am."

"No you aren't."

Roni lowered her voice as much as she could and still felt he would hear her over the noise in the bar.

"I am Preston, I'm not wearing panties or bra."

"You've got a fucking coat on," he boomed down the phone."

"Yes well I have to."

"No you don't, you stupid cunt."

"I do Preston."

"I told you that you don't, so don't."

"Don't what?"

"Wear the fucking coat you dumb cunt. Take it off"

"I can't."

"You can and you will, now do as you are told and take the fucking thing off."

"Please Preston, no."

"Take it off."

"I really can't"

"OK, just open it then."

"Where are you?"

"Mind your own business and do as I tell you."

"Let me go outside?"

"No stay there and now undo that fucking coat, you are getting on my tits you stupid, fat slag."

Roni's fingers were trembling as she undid the top two buttons.

"Mmm nice tits, love the cleavage." He said down the phone.

She looked around, "where the hell are you?"

"Undo more buttons."

Looking around Roni saw that a few guys were looking at her. Was it the actress in her or the actor she wanted to be in her? Was it her outgoing theatrical nature or her sexually induced exhibitionism? She didn't know, but suddenly her strongest feelings were not shyness, fear, apprehension and embarrassment but excitement, arousal and sheer fucking horniness. 

She undid all the buttons. She stood facing the bar and occasionally side on, she couldn't bring herself to turn her back to it and face her audience full on.

"That's better, that's nice," he said. "See their eyes Roni, see them looking? Like that do you? Like all these guys looking at your big tits and fat gut? Do you like that?"

"Yes, yes Preston I do like it."

"You like them imagining you with that dress off don't you?"

"Yes I do."

"Imagining them seeing you naked, your huge tits hanging down and your belly sticking out."

"Yes."

"You know most of them think you're a hooker don't you?"

"No, I didn't"

"Well they do and they want to fuck you, but don't think you're worth paying for."

"Oh Preston don't please. Stop it"

"Don't tell me what to do, you fucking slag, you stinking whore, you dirty fucking cunt."

"Sorry Preston, I shouldn't have said that."

"No you shouldn't, right, so undo the rest of the coat, turn your back to the bar and let your audience see you, all of you, you fat cow."

Suddenly it didn't seem impossible, embarrassing or awkward, now it was the obvious thing to do and she wanted to. With the phone cradled between her neck and shoulder, still facing the bar, Roni as surreptitiously as possible slipped the remaining buttons undone. She glanced down just to make sure that the pressure on the buttons from the ridiculous tightness of the dress hadn't popped any and then slowly turned round.

The looks on the men's' faces as they stared at her made her feel fantastic. It also made her feel cheap, sluttish, demeaned and abused, and she fucking well loved it. She leaned back against the bar and slowly lifted her glass towards her mouth, very aware that would stretch the dress even more, making it gape further and show more of her skin.

It was then that she saw Preston walking towards her. He strode right up to her, grabbed by her arm and started pulling her towards the door. Roni managed to put her glass on the bar before he hauled her off towards the door saying loud enough for many of the people in the bar to hear.

"Come on you slag, I have told you loads of times not to flash your big tits and bulging gut in public."

Outside, he took her in his arms and kissed her deeply.

"That was awesome Roni, you were great," he whispered cupping one of her boobs as his tongue slid into her mouth.

It was moments like that, which made the abuse and degradation so satisfying, at least to Roni.

Chapter 2

It had been a long time since Mike had had one woman sitting astride his face as another sucked his cock, Mike was thinking. It had been an equally long time since he had been with two such enthusiastic girls and just as long since he had been in a threesome where the hookers really appeared to enjoy it. 

He had actually felt quite embarrassed as Emma made the arrangements over the phone with the two girls. She kept glancing at him and smiling as she told whoever was on the other end of the phone where to come and the time.

"Make it in about an hour and yes," Emma said, pausing and looking right at Mike as she went on. "Give him the very best service, do anything he wants. Ok that'll be fine I know you will." She listened for a moment. "Stay as long as he wants you to, I doubt I shall be home tonight." She put the phone down.

"Er thanks Emma, thank you," Mike muttered.

"You're very welcome,"

She fussed around in her bag and popped in and out of the living room as she finished getting ready to go to see Abdullah. She doubted they would actually shag, but for sure she would, at the very least, masturbate him and possibly give him a blow job. He did have difficulty holding an erection and due to his heart condition couldn't take a stimulant such as Viagra so Emma had to work very hard. She didn't mind though. After all it was purely due to him that she was rich and about to get significantly richer from the clinic project. She had learned early on that you have to pay, one way or another, for everything you get in this world. And if that meant wanking or sucking an old man who had helped her so much, c'est la vie.

"I don't think you have seen my bedroom have you Mike?" Emma asked as she breezed back into the lounge.

He smiled. "No, I haven't had that pleasure."

"Come on then, this way?"

He followed her past the kitchen to an area of the villa where he had never been. He couldn't take his eyes off her arse, for in the tight dress her wiggle was emphasised and the soft roundness of her cheeks accentuated. She led him up a short flight of stairs where his face was at the same level as the deliciously wobbling cheeks. It seemed so fucking stupid to him now. All this bollocks about not mixing pleasure and business, not dipping your pen in company ink and the like. Seeing the glorious, soft roundness of Emma's bum, with each cheek beautifully defined just inches from his face, made him want to grab her, shove her dress up round her waist, pull the cheeks apart and bury his face between them. And that was just a starter before he then fucked her several times on the bed that was now right before them.

Emma was actually feeling very much the same. Whilst her earlier efforts at seducing him had been purely business, she had come to really fancy the English doctor, which was rare for her nowadays. 

"My bedroom." She said simply standing by the door as he walked past his arm just inches from her breasts.

"Very nice too, but are you sure we should use this?"

"We?" Emma replied smiling, her heart beating a little faster as the image of being naked on the bed with him came into her mind.

"Well the two girls and me," Mike replied hardly believing that he was talking to her about a threesome with two escort girls, men just didn't do that, they never really admitted that they paid for it.

"Oh I see." She said softly, her gaze catching his.

"Yes," was all Mike could say by way of a reply. He wanted her so much, words failed him.

"Yes?" Emma repeated, putting the emphasis on the question, thinking that he was changing his mind. She followed him into the room, suggestively, he thought, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. Recovering her composure, a little, and realising that there was no way she could have sex with him even if was up for it as she was already going to be late for Abdullah who, unlike most Saudis was particular about time, she went on. "Of course use it, do whatever you wish, I'll stay out the night, so they can sleep with you if you like."

"It really is kind Emma," Mike said glancing at her breasts that seemed to be straining against the material of her dress.

"But then maybe I won't stay out all night," she said cheekily as she opened the door again. "Maybe I'll come home and join you."

"Jesus, don't say such things, I couldn't handle you after the two girls."

"Well be careful for I might say how about before then?"

He stared at her, a serious look on his face. Mike was struggling, he knew that. He was in a quandary. Very softly he replied.

"And if you don't watch out I might just say yes."

"Hmmmm, really Mike?"

"Yes Emma, really."

"Well we agreed you don't do that so enjoy my gift of Simoo and Kimah. And as you fuck them, think of me. And then she was gone. She had to for if she had stayed, she would have broken her vow, which was not to fuck for lust, but for purpose.

The girls were simply beautiful. Slightly taller than Mike remembered most of the women were when he had been to Bangkok and Phuket and certainly curvier, they had that dusky, serene, big-eyed look so typical of Thai people. They had arrived together wearing long loose robes similar to that which Emma had worn. They made the little bows that Orientals place so much emphasis upon when he opened the door and showed them in. They smiled and said how pleased they were to meet him. They then pulled the long robes over their heads and off, hanging them in a wardrobe in the hallway, indicating to Mike that they knew their way around the villa, perhaps from other jobs, he wondered?

They were wearing matching cheongsams. Red silk, with slits up the sides from the hem just above their knees to their hips, they fitted them like gloves. The beautiful dresses not only emphasised their slimness, but also their curves. They looked fantastic and Mike could feel the stirrings as he looked at them.

He offered them drinks, which they refused. He tried chatting, but soon learned that their grasp of English was limited. He wanted to get going, but didn't know how. It was odd, two paid for girls who were his to do with as he wished and he felt shy. He didn't know what to do.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 07



"We bat you?" One of them said, he never did quite work out which was which.

"What?"

"Bat, sower, bat."

"Oh bath."

"Yes bat. Bat or shower, you like?"

"Mmmm yes, I think I would."

"Sit, wait, we get ready."

Mike sat in the lounge as they went off without asking the way, pretty much confirming that they knew their way around Emma's pad, maybe it was Emma's brothel, he mused as he sipped probably his fourth glass of white wine.

"We ready now," he heard one of them call out.

Mike worked out that they were in Emma's bedroom. They weren't when he went in, but then he heard them, of course there was an en suite. Pushing the door to that open he went to go in, but was stopped.

"You stay Mike," one of them said from behind the door.

They came into the bedroom together. They had changed and were wearing short, white robes that looked as though they were silk. They had ties round the waist, but no buttons. They came up to Mike and stood either side of him. He looked from one to the other, breathing in their heavy perfume and looking into their deep brown eyes. Their beauty staggered him. Full lips, big eyes, pert noses, high, pronounced cheek bones and jet-black lustrous hair, which they had worn up when they arrived, but which was now tumbling down onto the white silk of their shoulders.

"We undress." The one Mike thought was Simoo said.

"Yes please," Mike replied, thinking they would remove their robes. 

They didn't. Instead as one started to unbutton his shirt, standing in front of him, the other, probably Kimah, stood behind him and reaching round, undid his belt. Their lack of English had its moments, he thought, as they removed his shirt, as they slid his zip down and between them took his trousers and socks off in one go. 

He was getting hard. They looked at the bulge in his boxers and giggled. They put their arms round him and squashed their bodies against his, one on either side. Mike put his arms round them and pulled the two girls more firmly against him, enjoying the feel of the smooth silk and their softness under that. 

He started to pull on their robes, wanting to see more of Emma's gift to him, but they stopped him, saying something that probably meant not yet. They each took one of his hands and started pulling him. In the bathroom he was surprised to see a sunken, kidney shaped bath. Perhaps she does use it as a fucking brothel he thought.

One of the girls knelt in front of him, the other stood behind him. The kneeling one, Simoo he thought, looked up at him her face about level with the outline of his full erection. Her eyes met his as she ran her fingers up and down the length of his cock. It felt fantastic, especially as, at the same time, Kimah was sliding her hands into the waist of his boxers. He felt her easing them down at the back, but as Simoo was now holding the length of his cock quite firmly they stayed in place at the front. 

The combination of Kimah pressing her tits through the silk against his back, her tummy against his bare bum, her hands sliding up and down his legs and all over his chest, Simoo stroking his cock through his boxers and, now her pressing her lips against its outline, was heady stuff indeed. He loved it,

Of course his pants came off, of course the girls oohed and ahhed at his cock and of course they stroked and rubbed it. And of course he just got hornier and hornier and wanted to fuck at least one of them right there on the tiled floor of the large bathroom, but that wasn't in the script, it was not part of their game plan. No hookers of the sort they were didn't just sell a fuck, they provided an entire sexual experience.

They helped Mike into the bath, holding him carefully, almost as if her were a frail old man. That made him think of Emma and wonder how she was getting on with Abdullah. It also made him feel relieved he hadn't given in to the powerful feelings he felt towards her, but he wasn't sure how long that could last. After all, having someone as sensational as her offering herself on a plate to him, probably was, he had acknowledged last in bed when he had wanked thinking about fucking her, too much to resist. He had come to the conclusion that sex between them was becoming inevitable and sod the stupid, fucking vow he had made.

He laid back in the warm water and watched as Simoo poured oil and salts into the bath. She leaned over the side and swirled the water with her hands making it cloudy and very aromatic. Mike reached out and tried to slide his hand down the front of her gaping robe, but she was too quick for him and moved away. Kimah came from behind Mike, her robe was open, although he could only see her from behind, so he couldn't see what he wanted to see, her tits and pussy. She walked up to Simoo, she stood close to her. Mike watched fascinated as her fingers took each end of the tie around her friend's waist, as they slowly pulled on them, as they undid the loose bow and as they then took hold of each lapel. The girls were staring into each others eyes and, of course, Simoo could see Kimah's body. God how he wanted to, Mike was thinking as he stroked his cock under the water. Then slowly, so painfully slowly Kimah pulled the robe open and as she did she also turned so that Mike at last saw both girls' bodies. They were naked. They both had lovely figures and great tits; tits just like Sammi's, Mike thought as they removed their robes. Slim and firm, slender and taught, dusky and smooth, womanly and curvy, graceful and serene were all terms that flashed through Mike's mind as the two girls dropped their robes. All those terms and "shit they look so fucking horny."

Both girls stood by the bath and then, with a svelte elegance, they climbed in and knelt either side of him holding large sponges in their hands. Slowly, tenderly, carefully and so bloody excitingly they washed him from head to toe. He tried to caress them, but each time his hand got near to a breast or nipple, the girl would shake her head, smile and slither away across the huge bath. They did though, occasionally touch each other, not in too overtly a sexual way, but in a way that implied that there were lots more to come.

Finished with the washing they again assisted him when they helped him out of the bath. The scurried around him with nice big, fluffy towels drying him as he stood still feeling a little self-conscious with his massive hard on.

"We go for sex now," Kimah said taking his hand and leading him. 

Simoo took the other and they led him into Emma's bedroom. It smelled of her, Mike thought as he laid on her bed, right in the middle, on his back, his rock hard cock extending right up his flat belly. 

The girls joined him, one either side. It's like fucking paradise he thought, sliding his arms round them and pulling their slim bodies against him. It felt great. It had been ages since he'd had a threesome and he had forgotten just how horny it was to have four tits and two pussies and bums to touch and to have four hands caressing him.

He soon remembered, though, for during the next half hour or so they did pretty much everything sexually that two women and a man can do together.

He kissed one as the other sucked his nipples.

He licked the tits of one girl and stroked the pussy of the other as he alternated between kissing both of them. They had such soft, silky, smooth active lips.

He sucked one pussy as his hands stroked both pairs of tits.

He got his tongue between the cheeks of Simoo's arse as he slid his fingers into Kimah's crack.

He licked all round one girl's clit and pussy as he fingered the other looking up and seeing them kissing.

He pushed Simoo's face toward Kimah's pubes and watched as her legs parted and her friend's head went between them.

He stroked Simoo's bum, sliding his fingers along the crease between her cheeks as she sucked at Kimah's pussy and as he sucked Kimah's tits.

He had his fingers in both pussies as the girls kissed each other and him.

He had Kimah hold his cock for Simoo to suck, Simoo hold it for Kimah to suck, them both hold it for both of them to suck.

And then he fucked Simoo. 

Half way through fucking her he stopped and fucked Kimah; stopped again and shoved his cock back into Simoo and fucked her. He alternated several more times between the two willingly wet cunts until it all got too much for him and he shot his load into the condom covering his cock that was firmly lodged right up Simoo's cunt; or was it Kimah's?

One of them got him a drink, padding barefoot out to the living room naked, her pert bum wobbling enticingly as Mike softened. He drank that and tried chatting, but their English was so poor he soon gave up thinking, who needs to talk when they fuck like that.

They led him back to the bathroom and bathed him again. They knelt to one side of the bath and sponged each other, their slim, nicely manicured fingers now not avoiding breasts and nipples, but seemingly finding them on purpose. They kissed several times before helping him out of the bath again and drying him and themselves. This time, less than twenty minutes after ejaculating, he wasn't rock hard, but he was pleased and quite impressed with himself to feel some stirrings.

They wrapped him in a towel and took him to the lounge and sat him in an armchair. They poured him another drink and sat close together on the carpeted floor a few feet away from him, but clearly in his view. Tenderly, slowly, lovingly really, they then fucked each other for the best part of half an hour.

Mike was very aware that they were whores and knew full well that you can never trust the expressions and sounds whores make; they are experts at simulating orgasms, after all that's part of their job. But these two were different and he would have bet they did actually make each other cum, several times. By the time they had both had their fingers and mouths between the others legs, had sucked the others nipples and had used vibrators on each other, Mike was hard again.

The girls seemed to have a built-in erection identification device for, just as his cock was struggling against the confines of the towel, they pulled him down onto the floor with them.

They laid him flat, they took the towel away. One of them straddled his hips, the other his face. Simoo or Kimah held his cock and slid on a condom before sliding her pussy onto him. Kimah or Simoo eased herself down until her pussy lips were in the right position for him. He sucked her as the other fucked him. 

That was when he was thinking it had been a long time since he had one girl straddle his face and another hips. It was also the time that he heard Emma say.

"Hey can anyone join in, or is this a private party?"

*

I hope you are getting to know and like the characters. Many of them are in the next part with Ronni dogging and a nice spot of incest as the features. Don't miss Part 8 in a week of so time.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 08



Ok, those who have been following Sammi and co. know what's happening and are getting to know the characters. Those of you that haven't, well that's tough, but I would suggest you read the earlier parts.

It's all becoming a little complicated now, so some referrals back to earlier parts might be needed



Chapter 1

Preston was a bully. He had always been one: as a kid, at school, when he grew up, in his three marriages and in all the affairs he continually had. He liked to dominate women, he liked to abuse and demean and when the opportunity presented itself, he also liked to hurt them. 

He didn't though, particularly like shagging them, although he liked masturbating on them. And he wasn't against the odd fling with a rent boy, a male hooker or a fellow thespian with bi or gay leanings. He was a strange man.

But he was a man that women found attractive. Tall and well-built with a surprisingly athletic figure considering he did no sport, did not work out and drank and smoked far too much, he had a mane of blonde hair that was just starting to lose the battle with greyness. Distinguished was the term women used to describe both him and his hair.

He was also rather rich. A lucky break had made his first fortune from a surprising global TV hit show and a good investment his second just before the dotcom crash. In many ways the feature of him that was attractive to a certain type of woman, was his arrogance and total disdain. It was as if he had no interest in them whatsoever, which as people he, of course, didn't. It was purely a body to torment and a mind to manipulate that he saw in a woman.

He liked Roni though. She was just the type of cheap, scouse slag that appealed to him. She liked being dominated and humiliated, having her fat arse spanked and being insulted, abused and degraded in front of others. She also had no apparent morals, nice big tits and a loose cunt that she was willing to open for anyone he suggested. Just what he liked.

"Where we going?" Roni asked when Preston walked towards a car in the pub car park

"For a drive," he replied opening the door of the large Mercedes.

"I didn't know you had a car."

"I don't, I rented it."

"Nice, but why?"

"You'll see, now get in, shut up, undo that dress and get your tits out."

"She got in and lay back on the big front seat."

He got in the other side. "I said get your tits out."

"Where are we going?" 

"You'll see, but you won't unless you get your tits out, for I'm not moving until you do. It is dark Roni and you know how much you flashing your tits excite me." Preston leaned across and started undoing the buttons on her dress. He went on. "And you know how showing them off turns you on, like in the pub earlier."

It was actually a bit of a relief for Roni when the buttons were undone as it reduced the pressure from the overly tight dress. It was also quite nice to have Preston being fairly tender and gentle towards her as one by one, he undid the buttons down to her waist. He leaned further across and kissed her. Roni opened her mouth immediately and eagerly, she so liked to please him. It felt good as his hand slid into the dress and cupped her right breast; he squeezed and pinched the nipple, which immediately came alive. He repeated that with her other breast and then peeled the dress away. 

Her tits, he thought moving back and staring at them, actually looked rather good. Her position on the seat bent backwards slightly, from the waist, but as good as upright, meant they didn't flop and sag, the dress gave them a little support and her enflamed nipples stood out very clearly. 

He bent over, he licked each nipple, he slid his hand up her skirt, he pressed on her thigh ordering her to open them, she did, he shoved his finger against her lips, he took a nipple in his mouth and then in one movement, almost, he shoved two fingers right up her cunt and bit hard on her nipple.

"Ouch, foocking 'ell Preston, that 'urt," she grunted, forgetting the southern, non-scouse accent she tried to maintain with the well-spoken actor.

"Then slut, next time do as you are told when I tell you to do it, ok?"

"Yes Preston," she said meekly, hurt, but at the same time excited, as the car glided away towards Hampstead Heath. They went along the brightly lit Haverstock Hill, past Hampstead tube station and up past the area near Jack Straw's castle where the gays go cruising and on towards Highgate.

It was a strange journey for both of them, particularly for Toni. Sitting slightly reclined on the front seat of a big Mercedes with her dress undone and her tits bare was a new experience for her and for Preston come to that. What was probably the most surprising thing, as far as Roni was concerned, was that only twice did she catch the eye of someone who had seen her above the waist, near-nakedness. The looks on their faces were, firstly astonishment and then sheer lust; she liked that. Despite few people obviously seeing her, it was still a highly erotic car trip for both of them, so much so that Preston got a hard on driving and glancing across at his slave, as he thought of her.

Having done the cruising thing, Preston steered the Merc. along the busy Golders Green road in the direction of Highgate and the cemetery where Karl Marx is buried, Roni recalled for some strange reason. They went past the main entrance, alongside the huge cemetery with the marble angels and other statues, and down a quiet lane to one side. He did a few lefts and rights and they entered a wooded area, probably Highgate woods or common, Roni thought, although she wasn't that familiar with the area. She had, she suddenly realised almost totally forgotten that her dress was unbuttoned to the waist and that her breasts were bare.

Preston slowed the car obviously looking for somewhere.

"What are you looking for?" Roni asked.

"There should be a fucking car park around here."

Roni's heart leaped, "He's going to fuck me in the car, how sexy and, for him romantic," she thought.

"There it is," Roni said pointing out of the window on her side.

"I though it was on my side."

"Perhaps we came from a different direction," she offered as they pulled into it.

She was surprised to see several, actually a lot of, cars parked round the perimeter. She was even more surprised to see that some had their internal lights on, some were flashing their headlights and that others had windows open. What was even more surprising was that as Preston slowly steered the car towards an opening where they could park, she saw quite a few people walking around in the car park, they were walking from car to car, looking in, standing staring and waiting.

He stopped the car in a vacant slot with about ten or twelve feet either side of the Merc from the other cars. Preston cut the engine and Roni was immediately hit by the quietness. She looked at him thinking, what the hell's going on and what the fuck is going to happen now? She hoped that he was going to fuck her, but worried about the number of other cars and the people wandering around. Taking sex risks in places where there was chance of getting caught was one thing, actually getting caught, as seemed highly likely here, was quite another.

"Ok, undo the rest of the buttons," he said, turning and looking at her.

"What here?"

"Of course here, where else?"

"But Preston there are so many people around."

"So?"

"We'll get caught."

"What do you mean we?"

"Well if we have sex we'll..............."

He cut her off. "Who said anything about us having sex?"

"Well, you, I er, um thought, what do you mean?"

"What do you mean, what do I mean?"

"You're confusing me Preston."

"Am I? Well you should get a fucking brain shouldn't you and learn how to use it as much and as well as you use your cunt."

"Oh don't say that, I have got a brain."

"Yes up your cunt you might have, but not in your fucking head. Now unbutton the fucking dress or I'll rip the buttons off and kick you out of the car and make you walk home."

"You wouldn't?"

Preston leaned over the centre console; he took her chin in his hands, turned her face to look at his and snarled.

"Try me slut, just try me."

"No, no I won't."

"Then undo the dress."

"What then?"

There was a silence. Both of them looked out around the car park. About half the cars had their internal lights on and Roni could see that several couples were in the back of the cars. It was obviously, at the very least, a lover's spot or, at another level, Roni conjectured, a place where hookers took their men, but the lights and the people walking around didn't quite add up.

"When you have undone it Roni, I will tell you exactly what to do and as usual, you will do exactly as I tell you won't you?" He asked, reaching over and pinching her right tit, a little too hard. "Won't you?"

"Yes Preston," Roni whimpered.

Chapter 2

Mel was aware that she was going too far. Overdoing it, losing control, straying beyond what was reasonable. Being aware was one thing, doing anything about it; quite another, and that, she wasn't coping with at all well.

She was drinking too much; she was popping too many pills, smoking too many joints and fucking too many men. She had lost control of her will-power in all areas. That scared her. She wasn't stupid and it didn't take a genius to work out that she was on a fast road to self-destruction, welcome Pete Doherty, hello Amy Winehouse!

Why?

Who the fuck knows, she often thought. Poor little rich girl syndrome, perhaps? 

She got back from Barbados with Sam, totally fucked up. She had been on a binge of rum, ganja, pills, Wilson's cock and Sammi and had loved every moment of it, but as the pair of them disembarked from the BA business class to which they had been upgraded, Mel had used daddy's pull, she felt fucking terrible and had thought that she really had to do something about it.

She would have times, of course, when she straightened herself out and was clean for a few weeks, but so far they had never lasted and she had always drifted back into her old habits. This had, in one way or another, been going on since her late teens, so she had, she reconciled, become used to it; it's my way of life, she thought, it's how I am, a drunken, doped up nympho.

Barbados with Sam had turned into a binge of all three of her habits. With an easy supply of white rum, spliffs and Winston's splendid cock, she had fully indulged herself.

After a few quick rums, she had slept most of the flight home in the plane. They had arranged for a car to collect them from Heathrow, so Mel got back to the flat her family owned that she shared with her brother around two in the afternoon. Although a little jet-lagged, she wasn't that tired so, like a good girl she dumped all her dirty clothes into the washing machine and got on with the ironing. After a couple of hours, she did feel tired, but managed to resist popping an upper and instead, slipped off her clothes apart from her panties and laid on the bed. She was soon asleep.

Gordon, her brother, with whom she nominally ran the business was also quite a waster, but one with immense charm and charisma. Everybody liked Gordon and everyone was his friend. But then, when you are rich and generous, have a high need to be liked and tend to buy popularity, that's no surprising.

He was a gambler, horses, cards, roulette even greyhounds, he bet on all of them. At the age of thirty he was surprisingly successful and generally managed to about break-even, well most of the time. 

He got back to the flat around six after an afternoon at Sandown races where he had made a few bob. He'd forgotten that Mel was due home today so he was a little surprised when he saw quite a mess of laundry strewed over the floor of the lounge. Realising that it was his sister he called out.

"Hi Mel."

Getting no reply he went to her bedroom and saw the door was ajar. He pushed it open and looked in. He saw her on the bed, asleep. He went to call out, but saw that she was naked apart from a pair of pink, lacy panties. She was very tanned and looked lovely. He went out and got a bottle of red wine and two glasses. He made his way back to the bedroom and sat on the side of the bed as he poured the wine. He put the bottle on the floor and looked at his sister's slim, lithe, tanned body. He looked at her face, her neck, her tummy, her legs and thighs and at her tits. Especially at her tits. She had tiny tits with pronounced, rather dark nipples. Just as he liked tits, he hated big floppy ones, in fact he hated big and floppy anything. He liked slim girls, girls with hardly or no flare to their hips, girls without womanly curves, girls, in fact, who looked like boys. But girls that had pussies, for he did like shagging them.

He touched Mel on the shoulder. She moaned and moved a little, but showed no sign of waking. He shook her again, harder; still no sign. He sipped his wine and again looked at his sister's tits, thinking they really are lovely. He shook her again; still no response, so he looked at her tits again. He let his fingers trail from her shoulder onto her collar bone, she had, what did mum used to call them, he thought? Salt cellars. Yes that was it, why? No idea.

She seemed so thin, so gaunt, so slim and slender, just right, just like a young boy. 

His hand slid further. It went down her chest. It reached where the slight swell of her breast started, just where, the firmness of the ribs under her chest gave way to the softness of her boob flesh. He let it rest there for a moment or two, simply staring at her tits and occasionally glancing down her body. He could see through the pink panties from this close, but couldn't see her pubes. "She's shaved, again," he smiled, bending and staring closer and seeing the start of her lips through the lacy material.

He couldn't stop now and his hand moved and covered his sister's breast. He cupped it, he squeezed it and he caressed it. It felt wonderful.

She moved, groaned and yawned just as she opened her eyes. Gordon moved his hand away.

"Hi, have a good holiday?" He asked, adding. "Welcome home," as he handed her the glass of wine.

"Hi Gordon, yes lovely, thanks," Mel replied sitting up and dripping some of the wine onto her chest. A little dribble of red ran between her, nearly flat boobs. She didn't wipe it up. She also didn't cover up; she simply sat there, her tits bare, the dribble of wine running down towards the waist of her nearly see-through panties.

"Get up to any mischief out there?"

"Of course, loads."

"You were careful with the stuff weren't you?" Gordon asked, the consideration sounding in his voice.

"Yes, of course," Mel lied. "Had some nice stuff though.

They chatted for a while about her holiday, the business, their parents and Sammi, Mel telling Gordon about the new style of therapy. He was interested in that and in Sammi come to that; he had always fancied her, but for some reason had always held back. 

They were onto their second bottle of wine. Gordon was now lying on the bed alongside his sister. When she had got up to have pee, he had slid his hand along the pillow, so when she came back it was around her. He had dropped it onto her shoulder, she had moved closer. He had cuddled her. She had turned half onto her side, the side facing him, her face was close to his, her naked breasts were near, he was staring at them. He looked into her eyes, their gaze met.

"No, Gordon no," Mel breathed.

"No, I know Mel, I know," he replied, dropping his gaze to his sister's chest.

Without thinking or planning, purely involuntarily his hand covered the gap between them and he ran the back of his fingers across her breast, across the slight swell of flesh and across the nipple, which hardened immediately.

"Oh God," Mel whispered.

"Sorry, sorry."

"No, not sorry."

"I know, I shouldn't"

"We shouldn't, we shouldn't Gordon, we really shouldn't."

"I know we shouldn't," he replied not, though, moving his fingers which were still stroking his sister's pert breast.

"Oh fuck," she moaned her hand sliding across the bed and resting on his thigh.

"Oh my darling," Gordon sighed, squeezing her nipple.

"Oh yes," Mel said pushing her breast against his hand and shoving her hand against his stomach and gripping the length of her brother's erection.

"Mel, oh Mel," Gordon groaned pulling her to him, so her little tits were crushed against his chest.

"Yes my darling," Mel groaned back, slipping her hand inside his trousers and finding his prick.

"Oh God, I know I shouldn't, but I just can't stop," Gordon said his hand cupping his sister's tight arse before slipping between her legs from behind.

"Don't"

"What?"

"Don't stop."

"Oh Mel really?"

"Yes really, really."

"We said we would stop."

"Yes, I know."

"But we aren't are we?"

"No, no we aren't, we can't Gordy, we just can't can we?"

"No darling we can't."

Their lips met, their mouths opened, their tongues probed and their lips squirmed as they kissed each other deeply and longingly, as lovers do.

His shirt was undone and had been removed; his trousers came off together with his socks and boxers. Mel took her panties off as he discarded his clothes.

And then they fucked. They fucked just like long-term lovers fuck, slow, easily, deeply and so very satisfyingly. 

They fucked like long-term lovers because they were long-term lovers. Long-term incestuous lovers, long-term brother and sister lovers.

Chapter 3

Roni was getting excited. She wasn't quite sure why, but her breast had that heavy feeling, her nipples that tingly feeling and her pussy that, very, damp feeling.

Looking him right in the eye and holding his gaze as she moved her fingers to the button that was right on her waist, Roni nodded.

"Yes Preston," she whispered as she undid the button, so that her slightly bulging stomach down to just above her pubic line was revealed.

"You're going to do precisely as I say aren't you?" He went still pinching her breast as he watched her find the next button, which was beneath her pussy.

"Yes," she breathed, everything that Preston had made her go through so far this evening getting to her. "Yes I will."

She undid the rest of the buttons. He reached across and pulled the two sides of the grey dress apart and then leaned further over and slid his hand down the side of her seat between that and the door. She felt the back of her seat reclining. Back and back it went until she was nearly horizontal.

"Now my scouse slut, wank yourself."

"Oh Preston I can't, there are so many people around."

"Of course there are you stupid cow."

"What do you mean?"

"This is a dogging sight Roni and you are going to masturbate right here as anyone who wants to can watch," Preston said switching on the internal light, just as Roni grasped each of her breasts and started to roll them together.

"No," she almost shouted as her naked body was bathed in light.

"Yes," Preston muttered, rolling the window on her side down which is the acknowledged dogging signal that says, anyone can join in.

"No Preston, no," Roni groaned, pulling the dress around her, covering her tits and belly, almost. Deep down she knew it was hopeless to complain, and even deeper down, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

She had read about the dogging phenomenon of where couples parked in designated areas identified and publicised on the internet, and put on shows. Sometimes purely exhibitionism and sometimes very participative. She had never been dogging, but in her wilder thinking moments it had an appeal, providing she could be safe. Preston, a big Merc, upmarket Highgate all added up to as safe as anything like dogging could ever be.

"I said yes Roni, I said get the fucking dress undone and I said start wanking yourself, so do it," Preston went on undoing his flies. 




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 08



Abusing Roni, saying demeaning things to her, degrading any woman, dominating them, hurting them and humiliating them always gave him a hard on. That was the easy bit of sex for him; it was what to do with the erection that was the problem. Although he did it, occasionally, he didn't really like shagging women. He preferred his own company, having his cock in his own hand to her pussy, at a push her hand was ok and now and then fucking her mouth was fine, but in the main, he enjoyed wanking himself and spurting all over a woman's tits and face.

As Roni gradually released her grip on her dress watching Preston get his cock out, she was vaguely aware of movements outside the car. Being that it was dark outside and light in, she couldn't see that clearly, but she was pretty sure there were several people looking in through the windows. That, and Preston with his cock in his hand, got to her and she felt just as she had earlier in the pub when she had turned round and showed her revealing self to the pub. So once more she responded to and showed herself to her audience. 

"What a fucking actress?" She thought, letting go of her dress.

"What an improviser?" She felt baring her entire body to the unseen onlookers.

"What a performer," She murmured holding her big, fleshy tits, pushing them together and rolling the mass of female flesh around, occasionally flicking her nipples.

Preston was now half kneeling on the seat, clearly wanking with his trousers half down. It pleased and thrilled her that he was joining in; it made her feel good that she had some power over him, even if it was just letting him demean her.

"Open your fucking legs." He grunted, she did,

"Get those fat thighs apart," he croaked. Roni did, even though she didn't actually have fat thighs, she had rather nice, slender ones.

He was now wanking quite hard and through the open window she could hear men saying things like.

"Fuck me look at her tits."

"He's wanking."

"She's doing herself."

"She looks great."

"What a pair of tits."

Such phrases, the occasional glimpse of a face or a pair of eyes, but the generally similar sensation to being on stage where the audience is blanked out by the lights and Preston's cock hovering over her, all combined to make Roni want to put on a performance.

So as Preston grunted. "Show 'em your cunt," she opened her legs wide, brought her knees up and placed each foot on the seat. Her pussy was right in line with the low glare from the light in front of her.

"Jesus fucking wept."

"Look at her cunt."

"I'd love to fuck that."

Roni heard these expressions as she rubbed her fingers all round her lips, which were absolutely soaked.

She was getting there, and quickly, but wasn't at the peak of her orgasm when she heard Preston grunt loudly.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he said as she looked up at him. And as she did, he ejaculated. His cock seemed to explode with cum and spurt after spurt of his spunk shot out of him and splattered on her; on her face, on her head, on her chest and on her tits. His sperm seemed to be everywhere; it was everywhere, even on the dashboard of the Merc.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 09



Right we're almost half-way now. But there is still loads to tell you about my cast of sexually dysfunctional characters who either wear or want to get inside the nurse's uniform, preferably with Sammi still in it!

Seeing the scores that the readers are giving this series and the ratings awarded by Lit, I don't seem to be doing too well. Is there not enough action? Do I digress too much? Or are there other reasons? I would value your opinions. Each one I receive will get a photo of me or Sammi in our underwear! Now I can't be fairer than that can I?

Chapter 1

After Mike's trip to Saudi, somehow, and he had no real idea how or why, things progressed quickly. Contracts were prepared, plans were agreed, meetings took place and, suddenly, it all began to happen. The German and Saudi money came through, the deal was agreed in principle on the building near Windsor, the refurbishments to that were scheduled, recruitment got going and all the operating procedures and systems just seemed to fall into place. To the consternation of the owners of the clinic where he currently worked, Mike had resigned and, despite them offering to almost double his package he had left.

Mike was amazed.

At one moment it all looked to be a disaster and at the next, Claire, who was acting as his personal lawyer, told him that the arrangements were proceeding well for the "closing ceremony" where everything would be signed.

"And there, big boy," she said, slipping her robe off as she came from the bathroom into their bedroom, "I will, at last, meet them all."

"All?" Mike asked looking up from the FT he was reading in bed.

"Yes, your fantasy bit Sammi, Emma and the Al Korensis."

"Mmmm yes you will won't you?" Mike replied adding. "Why will Sammi be there?"

"She has to sign a waiver and some other documents about the therapy and role-plays. Can't have you being done for living off immoral earnings can I when she fucks half your patients?"

"Hmmm," was all Mike could say

Claire walked round the end of the bed and sat down at the dressing table. Her "full" body wobbled with every movement. She was pretty big everywhere, but certainly not gross nor in the BBW category; round about a size 14 with something like 36 double d tits a 28 inch waist, hip measurement in the low forties and a nice round, full arse that Mike called cuddly, Korlen called lickable and many others had simply called big. Her height, around five feet nine, enabled her to carry her size off quite well and overall, she came across as being quite sexy, but then women that put out "I'm available" vibes as she did, usually do.

She and Mike had sex. Not fantastic, not mind-blowing or earth shattering, but satisfying and pleasant love-making. That's what their relationship had come to. Pleasant love-making together, and lots of bits on the side. They were both too embarrassed to actually count how many they had, but in the recent past, for both of them the numbers seemed to have increased dramatically.

Not just the numbers, but also, certainly on Claire's part, the relationships as well. Fucking the German financier, Korlen, who was providing some of the funding for Mike, was one thing, after all she introduced them and she had fucked him before he knew Mike. So nothing wrong there. But having what was now becoming a full on affair with Mike's mentor, one time professor, now work colleague and fellow shareholder in the new clinic, Sir Bernard Prestle, was pushing it. She knew that, she was aware of the dangers, she knew he was married with children and she knew he loved his wife and thought a hell of a lot of Mike, but all that just made the whole scene with him more interesting and stimulating.

It had been the same when she was married. She seemed to have this need to seduce any man that got really close to her husband, somewhat like what was happening with Bernard and Korlen and Mike. She had "given herself" to her ex husband's business partner in the art gallery they had started, she had seduced his best friend and she'd had sex with his brother. What a bitch I am, she often thought, but then conditioned that with, well it takes two to tango!

Despite Sammi's reservations about the part she would be playing in Mike's use of intereactionary neuroses therapy, she was also becoming excited. She had been on a few training courses, purely the theory so far, and had been withdrawn by La Crème from normal duties to assist Emma with the mass of logistics she was working on for the opening of the Windsor clinic, which was going to be in less than six weeks time. Sammi had been surprised to hear that Emma was also going to take the full training course; she made a mental not to aske her why?

Working closely with Emma was part a joy and part a torment for Sammi. 

She was in total awe of Emma's knowledge about hospital and clinic management, nursing procedures, the hotel aspect and all the other functions making up a modern facility. If she was in awe of that, she had no term to describe her feelings about Emma's organisational skills. Just like her tits, Sammi smiled, they are simply amazing. Emma never panicked, she always seemed to have time for everything, nothing seemed to happen that she hadn't catered for and her planning and prioritisation covered everything.

The torment came from the incredible sexual vibes that the older woman generated towards her. Emma was a clear thinker. Anyone running the number and type of businesses she was, had to be. She did very few things on impulse, everything was thought out, well-planned and organised. And so her desire for Sammi was nothing really to do with emotions, not even really to do with the younger woman's physical attractiveness, as strong as that was, it was all to do with her getting power over her. She knew that if she could fully control the blonde, mould her and manipulate her, she could well develop Sammi as her successor. 

Not so much in running the businesses, the UK nursing agency, the one that recruited nurses worldwide for employment in Saudi, the investigation agency and the call girl service in Saudi that she was planning to expand into several other Middle Eastern countries, but more in the liaison, as she termed it, shagging as others called it, with top clients like the Al Korensis. 

Now that the Sheikh had passed most aspects of the family business, including her, down to his two sons Ahmad and Sunni, Emma knew she was a bit long in the tooth for them and their contemporaries in the region who she was, more and more doing business with. Sure fucking an older woman was fun, for a while and for many twenty and early thirty somethings it was a bit of a turn on, but she knew it would be short lived.

For some time she had been on the look out for a younger woman who she could bring into the very heart of her business dealings. The CV of that woman, though was very restrictive. She had to be stunning looking, she had to be a nurse, she had to be bright, able, very business-minded, money oriented, highly ambitious and, above all else, she had to have, in technical terms, the morals of an alley cat. Sammi to a tee she had thought after she saw the test results during Sammi's employment process with La Creme.

In Emma's typically manipulative style, she worked out that to control and persuade Sammi in the way she wanted, she had to make Sammi dependant upon her, make Sammi need her, if necessary make Sammi love her, in a way; in the sort of way many secretaries love their boss.

Now she wasn't naive and she knew that if Sammi had the strength of character she would need to take on the job, then she wasn't going to be so girlschooly mawkish as to have a crying, pleading crush on her. She knew that the attraction she had to create wouldn't be based on typical love, but on admiration, the key emotion she had to tap was not Sammi not being able to be parted from her, but of being in awe of her; it was all about admiration not infatuation!

She knew full well Sammi was bi, she knew that she was active and she knew that soon they would have sex. And that was the second part of the manipulation. Emma guessed that Sammi was a typical London West End, club-going lipstick. Probably dabbled with a few friends without really making a full commitment; not a commitment to a person, but one to having full on lesbian sex. And that was what Emma was going to teach her. How to get a level of sexual excitement from a woman that no man could replicate. 

It was ironic that Emma was thinking along those lines for Sunni and Ahmad had discussed it several times. They acknowledged, as far as any Saudi man could, their indebtedness to Emma. They recognised that she had been a good mistress for their father, although in both his and their eyes, she was really nothing more than a whore and that she had been a good teacher to them in the sexual ways of western women. They also accepted that, but for her and her sexual ministrations, several of the deals where they had made stacks of money just would not have happened. But she was of another generation to theirs. The power in their country was passing from her age group and upwards to her age group and downwards, so she was being squeezed both ways. 

That said, they still enjoyed sex with her, regularly, just as Abdullah their father had before them. Often whenever either or, both were in the UK, Emma would get a call. It could be to come to their London flat in Belgrave Square, one of their several houses dotted around the country or a suite in a hotel. It could be just Ahmad, it could be just Sunni and it could be both of them. Whatever the combination, Emma knew she would be in for a tough time. They were both very demanding, had fantastic recovery powers and amazing stamina, but then guys in their mid to late twenties should have, she thought. She preferred being just with Ahmad, for he was gentler and didn't push her for anal sex, whereas Sunni always demanded that. Whether he was fucking her alone, or whether he was fucking her with Ahmad, or whether he was fucking her with another man they might bring along, or with one of their other women or a girl that Emma supplied, it was her arse he attended to mostly.

Sammi wasn't usually attracted to women. She never looked at a girl and thought, I'd love to fuck that or wondered what other girls looked like naked. He "bi-ness" wasn't like that. Sure, she could admire another woman's beauty or figure, but not in a sexual way. That only raised its head when availability and opportunity came into the equation. Dancing with a girl in a club and their bodies touched, seeing a woman who smiles and holds her gaze just that moment too long, having a woman be a bit touch feely, maybe a sales assistant in a clothes store, that was the sort of thing that could raise her sexual temperature, but then only if that was accompanied by good looks and a nice body. She was picky and choosy.

But her feelings about Emma were different. 

At nights in bed Sammi was prone to thinking about her far more than she had any other woman she had known and been attracted to. Her luscious lips, her rounded, curved body, her gorgeous face, her tanned, lithe legs that Sam had seen that evening she had visited the offices of La Crème and Emma had modelled the new uniform and, of course, her gorgeous full breasts that Sam so envied.

Chapter 2

They didn't actually fuck that evening when Emma returned to her villa to find Mike lying on the floor with Simoo straddling his face and Kimah his cock: or maybe it was Simoo who was impaled on, what looked to Emma to be, a very respectably sized and completely hard cock . Not actually fuck, but they did have sex, in a way.

Emma had purposefully got away from Abdullah as quickly as she reasonably could without upsetting him. 

Her plan was to compromise Mike, to get at him. There was no way, she had told herself, that the cocky, arrogant, extraordinarily fanciable, delicious Doctor Stevens was going to refuse her. Fucking liberty she had mouthed several times when he wasn't looking.

Sheikh Abdullah al Korensi was a cousin to Prince Bandah who was a brother of the King of Saudi Arabia. The al Korensi family had made a fortune, initially from construction and oil, but latterly from owning, running and building hospitals and clinics, throughout the world. As was common in the Middle East, business was done quite differently to the Western world; in many ways. One way that was the same, however, wherever business is done, is in the use of sex, to oil the wheels of commerce. And that was how Emma had made herself a multi-millionairess. She had fucked her way into a position of power in a country where women did not officially exist in business. Emma did though. 

She existed as Abdullah's mistress having sex with him mostly in London or other European capitals, but also when she visited Saudi in connection with La Crème the nursing agency she ran. She existed as his whore, fucking people he did business with so that he got a competitive advantage. She existed as a madam, supplying girls, mostly Thai, who she imported into the Kingdom under the pretext of them being nurses. And she existed as the sexual educator to his two sons Ahmad and Sunni, who were taking over the family business.

Abdullah, though only in his late sixties, was ill; he suffered from a sort of Crone's disease and had a life expectancy of only a few more years, hence, the need to pass over the reins of the family business as quickly as possible. Though, frail, he still wanted sex. Sure he had several wives, sure he could have hookers galore in Saudi and on the, now infrequent, trips he made and sure he had other mistresses, but there was something special about Emma, and that wasn't just her glorious tits and magnificent arse, both of which he had fucked many times. 

It was her brain and imagination that so appealed. Her brain for business and her imagination for sex.

He had adored the way that she had slowly lifted the figure covering cloak over her head when she had arrived at his town house near the embassies in Riyadh. He didn't live there, but used it for business meetings and sex. His eyes had glinted when he saw the black taffeta nurse's uniform, the white lace round the neckline, the deep cleavage it created, the tightness of the material round Emma's tits, hips and bum. He had stared at the small, white apron that was tied round her waist and covered her to mid thigh. He had taken in the hem of the skirt some six inches above her knee, the stretched material over the perfectly rounded, twin cheeks of her arse, as she twirled for him, and the blackness of the seemed stockings.

"For the clinic in Windsor?" He asked.

"Yes Abdullah."

"Not quite like that though?" He said from the big mattress on the floor that was covered with many multi-coloured cushions.

"No, this is for us, there's will be similar but more demure, of course. I had this made especially for you and of course the family." Emma replied leaning over and kissing him on both cheeks and then the lips.

"Mmm it's lovely," he murmured his eyes boring into her cleavage, his hand slipping up the back of her leg confirming that she was indeed wearing stockings.

Emma ran her fingers affectionately across his cheek and chin as she said softly.

"They of course will wear tights, other than when you visit, when I will have them all wear stockings like these.

"As usual, Emma you think of everything," he said pulling her down so she was kneeling beside him.

"I do try Abdullah, particularly for you and the family."

She had the helped him undo the top of the dress, pull that down, take the apron off and roll her skirt up. She had modelled the self-support, holdup, lacy topped, black seemed stockings, the black, lacy thong and the black lace bra. She had turned so he could more easily undo the clasp on her bra and then had turned back so she could peel the clinging, black lace away from her full, luscious tits. He stared at them for a few moments as Emma ran her hands over them.

"You like my tits, Abdullah?" Emma asked, playing up to what she knew was his weakness as she took hold of his hand and placed it on her left breast.

"Mmmm oh yes Emma, I do."

"My tits, Abdullah, our tits, your tits," she groaned as her stroked them, gently and tenderly; he had in his prime been a great lover. 

Her dress came off, her thong came off, but her stockings stayed on. Very carefully, Emma had slid her hand between them seeking his cock, but she was aware that she shouldn't take too much of an initiative; the al Korensis might be horny bastards and more Westernised than most, but they were still Arabs.

She laid back against a pile of cushions. She opened her legs and raised her knees, flashing her cunt that was still bald, at her long-term lover and sponsor. And then Emma wanked herself. And she really did make herself cum. Just as she climaxed, she saw Abdullah rubbing himself and she guessed he was getting hard so she rolled towards him making all of her body available to him. She was offering him her tits, her thighs, her pussy, her bum and her mouth. Each was hisif he wanted, it was his choice, his selection, his preference.

She watched as he slowly pulled his white, silk robe up his body, stifling a smile when she saw he was wearing socks under it, but nothing else. He bunched it round his waist, exposing his semi-hard cock. He smiled at her, put his hand round the back of his head and slowly pulled her face towards him. She was happy with that.

She never did actually get him fully erect; but she knew from previous experiences a complete hard-on wasn't needed for a man to cum. As indeed it wasn't with Abdullah. No, not a full hard-on, but lots of licking, sucking, kissing and stroking, before his body stiffened, his grip on her head tightened and his hips started to move a little as he began to fuck her face. He did well, but then he was with Emma, a master at blow jobs. 

Emma had no compunction at taking his cum in her mouth and looking him straight in the eyes as she swallowed it. Over the years she had done that for him many times.

Mike was in a total quandary. He had already cum once when he had fucked the two Thai girls and was well on the way to his second cumming of the session. Now with Emma here he just didn't know what to do. Simoo and Kimah, though, didn't, as it were, bat an eyelid. They continued kissing, they continued caressing each others tits, they continued fucking Mike and they continued letting him suck their pussies, whichever way round they were. They did all of those things because it was expected, it came naturally for they had been carefully briefed and had done it several times before.

Emma looked down at him. 

"Good?"

"Yes, wonderful," he replied, feeling a little embarrassed, somewhat awkward and rather defenceless. He knew there was now no way he could resist Emma. It was impossible, he was aroused to a high level, he was fucking one girl and sucking another and now Emma was here. If she seemed irresistible standing over him in her long, flowing robe, if Mike had any chance to fight the need to have sex with her as she stood there looking down on the threesome and if there was just the slightest chance he could comply with his vow when she was asking about joining in and if he was enjoying it, that all suddenly vanished. 

With Mike and the two girls watching her, Emma took hold of the robe. Her white painted, fingernails gripped the thin orangey, red material. Her eyes never left Mike's for a second as slowly, tantalisingly slowly, she lifted the robe up and up and up. From her ankles, along her calves, over her knees and up her thighs. She exposed the black stockings, the seams at the back, the lacy tops, her slim legs and gorgeous thighs. She lifted it further and further and further. So far, that could see she was naked apart from the hold-ups. Not just naked, but totally bald on her mound.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 09



"Jesus Emma," he breathed as Kimah, or was it Simoo, stopped sliding themselves up and down his cock.

"Yes Mike?" She replied coyly, lifting the robe over her head and dropping it on the floor.

He didn't reply. There was nothing he could really say. Her naked body was even more awesome than it seemed when clothed. To his mind it was as near to perfection as a woman's body could be. Flared, very female hips, flat stomach, narrowish waist and absolutely fabulous tits. Full, round and upright with just the hint of a sag that comes from being large and tells the viewer they are all natural, they were capped by quite large areolas and prominent pink nipples, that looked deliciously suckable.

She rolled her breasts together, before turning her attention away from Mike. 

She knelt beside, between the two girls. They immediately kissed her, full on, mouth open, lip squirming, tongue plunging kisses. They both caressed her tits, they kissed them, they sucked her nipples and did all the things to her tits that Mike wanted to do. That was all part of Emma's plan. As was their hands going between her legs, as was her standing and looking him deep in the eyes as Simoo put her arms round Emma, as her fingers dug into the full, soft, roundness of her arse, as she pulled on that lovely, much used arse and as Emma thrust her pelvis outward so that Simoo could suck her cunt; just as Mike yearned to do. It didn't stop there, though, for as Simoo sucked Emma from the front, Kimah leaned forward and buried her mouth and tongue deep into the musky crease between those gloriously rounded orbs of her arse.

And like that, as one hooker, fucked Mike and as he sucked the other so they sucked Emma's pussy and bum just as if it was him doing that.

So, still they hadn't had sex, still Mike could hold his head up that he was keeping that vow, but more and more he was being dragged under her control. And that is exactly what, Emma, Abdullah, Sunni and Ahmad wanted. 



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 10



This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny for me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

We are now well into the story. So a lot of water has flown under the bridge, along with lots of steamy scenes between the amazing set of characters. 

In an ideal world, a new reader to this story would start at the beginning and read Part 1 first. We aren't in a real world though are we? So, as the story jumps around from character to character and fuck to fuck, I thought a brief synopsis here might be helpful.

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

The two main female characters are Sammi and Emma, the male lead is Mike. Sammi is a blonde, twenty five year old, beautiful nurse. Emma is in her early forties, she is awesomely good looking with dark, olive skin and absolutely gorgeous, full, heavily nippled breasts. She runs an agency that supplies nurses to hospitals throughout the Middle East and to upmarket clinics in the UK. Mike, a psychiatrist and one of the leading sexual therapists in the UK runs one of those clinics and he employed Sammi though Emma's agency. That is how they got to know each other.

A main theme running through the stories is will they or won't they? Will Mike shag Sammi, who he fantasises about as he has sex with his long-term partner? Will Emma seduce Mike, or Sammi, and will Sammi and Emma get it on?

At the same time, Ronni, Sammi's flat mate, has a series of dogging, forced sex and other extreme adventures with her older, actor lover and sleeps with Sammi. Claire, Mike's live in lover, seduces his partner, as she has previously his brother and one of his financial backers, even wearing her barrister's, black silks and wig, and nothing else apart from black hold-ups to do that. 

Sammi's great friend Mel has a secret that is being revealed as she and her brother Gordy embark on the ultimate taboo. And Emma's continuously more intriguing role with the Saudi Arabian Al Korensi, family is examined as she sleeps with both the father and his two sons and acts as their whore and the business fixer.

See what I mean about being complicated?

Anyway, I really hope you enjoy what may well be my magnum opus and possibly my last submission to Literotica. Do let me know.

PART 10

"That sounds amazing," Roni said when Sam told her that she would be moving out to live in the clinic in Windsor, totally free. "You jammy sod." "Come on Ron," let's celebrate; Sammi laughed holding the cork and turning the champagne bottle as she had been taught at college. It still went pop and the wine still fizzed out of the bottle onto the floor, before she could get the flute under it. It had been about three months since the hair drying incident and a bit longer since Sammi had modelled the outfit for Roni. There hadn't been any other overt incidences between them, but both had felt pangs of desire for the other. Both had caught glimpses of the other in varying stages of undress, a little too much thigh, a flash of a breast or a glimpse of a nipple. There had been many double entendres, some suggestive remarks and lots of lingering looks. Both had resisted though and both had masturbated thinking of the other. They had been sensible, they had thought about the future, about what it would be like after they fucked, about how they would feel and react. So they hadn't gone further than Roni placing her hands on Sam's bare shoulders when she had dried her hair that evening some weeks ago. That is until half way through the second bottle of champagne when the alcohol had loosened them up, made them both feel mellow and had caused their inhibitions not only to fall away, but also to seem rather ridiculous, and of even greater relevance, unnecessary! So when their gazes caught they didn't break them, when their knees touched they didn't pull their legs away and when Roni put her hand on the back of Sammi's wrist, the blonde didn't move it away. No, she didn't move it away, she left it right there. She didn't avert her gaze, but instead stared right into Roni's eyes and she didn't try to avoid the pressure from her friend's knee, but returned it. Both girl's body language and eye contact didn't, as it had on the last two occasions, say no. This time they both indicated a resounding yes. They realised, albeit subconsciously, that Sammi's new life as a live in nursing manager in Mike's clinic would take them apart. It would mean they would stop being flat mates and probably finish their friendship. As with many girls who were close friends, Sammi and Mel for instance, sex between them was unthinkable. It wasn't, though, unthinkable between girls who used to be close friends or who would soon be ex friends. Their knees touching, Roni's hand on top of Sammi's, which was resting on the seat, they stared at each other. Slowly, Roni raised her eyebrows posing a silent question. For a moment Sammi didn't respond, sending a shock through the other girl, but then she smiled and slowly nodded her head, answering the question. They both knew that Roni had wordlessly said, "I want to have sex with you," and that Sammi had silently answered. "Yes so do I with you." Standing in Roni's bedroom, for she had the larger bed, they stared at each other as she pulled the baggy sweat shirt over her head to reveal her breasts. They were encased in a dark blue, M & S bra that was at least a size too small, but then she was always gaining or losing weight and it seemed that her tits and ass were where most of it came and went. That said, as her friend and lover's body was revealed to her, Sammi was surprised. Roni had clearly piled on the weight and her tits, which once had been full and luscious, but beautifully shaped, were now verging on being massive and, to be truthful, a bit saggy. Despite that, Sammi was still amazingly turned on by the body that she was about to make love to. Sammi undid her yellow blouse. She was wearing one of her Lejaby bras. White, lacy and gossamer thin, it just about covered each of the small orbs and almost, but not quite, hid the pinkness of her nipples. "Oh God Sammi you are gorgeous," Roni slurred stumbling a little as she closed the small gap between them and crushed her friend in her arms. Sammi's head was swimming as she felt herself almost engulfed by her friend's larger, fuller, softer breasts. They kissed. It was simple to do, yet they had resisted so much. Their mouths opened, their tongues slid inside and found the other. They pushed them together and then ran the tips of their tongue all round the other's gums. They ground their mouths together and sucked on the other's lips; top one first then the lower. Their fingers found the other's bra strap. Unlike when being undressed by men, the agile female fingers had the clasps quickly undone and they eased their bodies apart to remove the now, annoyingly unnecessary garments. They pressed their tits together, nipple to nipple, flesh to flesh. It was lovely and it seemed as though it was just yesterday, rather than months ago that they had last done that. "Take your jeans off Sam," Roni asked, breaking the embrace and standing back a pace or two. They stood a couple of metres a apart in the small room dominated by the double bed and the piles of clothes that Roni always left lying around, she was messy but not dirty. Their fingers found their zips and almost as one they slid those down, opened up their jeans then rolled them off. Sammi was wearing thin, knee-length pop socks, Roni's feet were bare. Sammi was wearing lacy shorts, black with an oyster coloured infill, Roni a white thong, also M & S and made from a satin-like material, probably nylon. As if on cue they moved to the bed, not removing their panties. On the previous occasions they had kept their panties on. Why? They had no idea; they didn't discuss it, but assumed it was some form of mechanism against accepting that they were conducting a lesbian act. Illogical certainly, but then what has sex of any form and logic got to do with it anything? Sammi, the more analytical and deeper thinker, as well as being the better educated, rationalised keeping them on as also being a signal that full oral sex would not take place; that for both of them had been, so far at least, a bridge just a little too far into the, to them, mysterious world of bisexual sex. And it was the same this time. They lay in each others arms; they cuddled, caressed, kissed and stroked each other. They ran their hands over the other's body and they cupped and squeezed their friend's bums and breasts. They kissed the breasts, they kissed the nipples but their faces went no further down the other's body. They licked and sucked and chewed the nipples, they sent each other high up that wave of orgasmic feelings and their hands, hesitantly at first, but then more confidently as thighs parted, slipped into the warm wetness between others legs. They rubbed and stroked each other and they, most certainly "tipped the velvet" but only with their fingers not their mouths or tongues. Although, usually, when making love with men, both were quite voluble, with each other they weren't and they had sex in almost silence. There was just the sound of hands running across skin or on lace or cotton, of bodies being squirmed together, of the squelching of lips or the slightly vulgar slurping of tongues in mouths or fingers in pussies. They climaxed several times before their final orgasms. They were as good as in unison. Not only were they mutual but they were full, powerful and as satisfying as a finger fucked orgasm can be.

Chapter 2

They had first had sex when Gordon was in his early twenties and Mel was just eighteen. It had, though, been on the cards for ages before that. They had come close several times, but had been too scared to go where there bodies were drawing. But then one evening, after a few joints it just seemed to happen. Afterwards, they had both cried and had promised it would never happen again. It did of course, again and again and again during that first year when their parents emotionally abandoned them. Their family life had been unconventional in many ways. Mum and dad were wealthy from inherited money. Neither had to work, though dad ponced around as the chairman of the board of directors of the family businesses, which were now fourth generation and mum masqueraded as a book publisher. Both, though, were really dilettantes and hedonists. Their lives revolved around pleasures derived from booze, drugs and sex. Mum had frequent lovers, usually young, squash or tennis coaches or aspiring writers, and dad had a series of mistresses that he kept in a flat he owned that he didn't think Charlotte knew about. She did, though, and she also knew every mistress he kept there. She knew that, for she had them photographed and him with them videoed, just in case, just as insurance. They had always travelled frequently. Ostensibly, to the various offshoots of the businesses, but really in search of pleasure and enjoyment, of all sorts, sexual and otherwise. So both Mel and Gordon had been left a lot for, as Charlotte put it. "There's not much chance of pleasure with two snotty nosed kids in tow." That had made Mel and Gordon close, it had to, for they were thrown together and left, so they made their own bed, that later they were to lie on and fuck on. As young kids they were very close, uncommonly close perhaps, maybe even unhealthily close. As young teenagers, when they both left their boarding schools not being able to bear being parted, they became even closer. As older teenagers they became intimately closer and as they neared the end of their teenage years, they had become lovers. "He's just a piece of shit, forget him," was the advice Gordon offered when Mel told him that her boy friend had jilted her. "But I loved him," she sobbed, sitting on the arm of a sofa. Mel had come home to the flat after playing squash and had taken a shower. She had wrapped a towel round her and gone into the living room when the phone had rung. It was her latest boy friend, Freddie. With hardly any preamble, the bastard had given her up. She was still shocked and crying when Gordon turned up half an hour or so later to take her to dinner as previously arranged. Sammi was away taking her nursing exams so she didn't have her close friend's shoulder to cry on, so that treat fell to her brother "I know, sis, I know, but you'll get over the bastard." He consoled her after she told him about it. That just made her cry more and Gordon took her into his arms and cuddled her. That felt good, for her and for him. Mel felt protected and reassured, Gordon felt strong and manly, both felt slightly edgy, a little aroused and rather apprehensive. They stood in the middle of the room their arms around each other. Her sobbing subsided. He continued saying how she would get over it. He spoke more softly almost cooing. She nestled against him, he held her tighter. They stopped talking. They clung to each other. He ran his hands up and down her back and into her hair. Her fingers dug into his back. Both of their hearts were pounding. They were feeling such strong attraction to each other, but were not sure what those feelings were, why they were having them and what they should do about them. They had both had them before, but never as strongly as this. Gordon's hand rested on Mel's back just above the towel, on her skin, between her shoulder blades, just about where a bra strap would go. It sent something like an electric shock through her and an explosion of feelings through him. He heard a little whimper. She couldn't stop it, just as she couldn't stop herself from pressing more firmly against him. Just as he couldn't stop himself from holding her tighter, from caressing her velvety smooth skin and slipping a finger into the top of the towel. Just as neither could stop themselves from becoming aroused, from Mel not being able to do anything about the searing heat starting at her clit and roaring through her body, to Gordon feeling that itchy feeling in his balls as they signal the start of an erection. From Mel feeling her female juices starting to flow, to Gordon becoming fully erect. "Oh God," Mel moaned. "Yes Mel, yes, I know," Gordon whispered back as he felt the hardness of his length press against the softness of his sister's stomach. She couldn't stop herself, though she knew she should have tried harder. As she felt that most exciting of feelings for a woman, her potential lover's aroused cock sliding against her pubic mound and rearing up her stomach, she should have moved away. She often thought that had she done so, then she and her brother may never have committed incest. She didn't though, move away. Instead, she let her womanly instincts overcome her sibling inhibitions. She let her body rule her mind. She let her desire outweigh her caution. She let her cunt take control. She pressed herself firmly against her brother's prick, giving him that so familiar to all lovers signal of, I want to be fucked and you can fuck me. As her arms held him even tighter she looked up, their eyes caught and they saw the guilt and fear in them. The guilt and fear, yes, but also the desire, the lust, the excitement and the anticipation. He kissed her. He kissed her fully on the lips. They had never done that before. On the cheek, many times, but never on the lips, never on the open lips as both pairs quickly became, never on lips squirming together and never on lips that had tongues plunging between them. "Oh my God," Mel croaked. "Shush my darling, don't speak, don't say anything," Gordon whispered, kissing her even harder. She tasted wonderful. Mel was confused of course, just as any eighteen year old girl would be, deep kissing her brother with his erection pressed firmly against her. Gordon was equally confused. They were both confused, but their desire and need for each other far outweighed that and any other inhibitions they had. Gordon didn't want to do anything that would hurt his sister, but his feelings for her were so strong, so deep and so intimate that he had to satisfy them. And there was only one way that he knew to do that and that was to make love to her. Deep down, Mel felt it was wrong. Incest was wrong, fucking your brother was wrong, but could making love ever really be wrong, she had asked herself many times? She didn't know what was going to happen now. Whether he would stop, whether she would stop him or whether they would make love. How could she know, it was all too confusing. Gordon was scared; perhaps apprehensive was a more appropriate word. That was not so much about having sex with his sister, but more about trying it on against her will. He wanted her to be as sure as he was. Mel was worried. She had only recently lost her virginity and had been with three different boys in quick succession. She had added them up the other night and had been a little ashamed to calculate that she had been shagged nearly twenty times. It wasn't that, though, that really worried her, it was Gordon thinking badly of her for so wanting to make love to him. Am I a nympho? She had asked herself. So, full of apprehension and indecision they clung to each other kissing and stroking each other. They didn't speak; both knew their feelings were beyond words. They were living the moment, waiting for a sign, a signal an indicator. And miraculously one came. As they slightly moved to hold each other differently, their bodies parted a little. As they did, so the towel slipped, as that slipped, Mel could not grab it, for her arms were round her brother and as she could not stop it, so her breasts were revealed. Gordon took that as the sign and as his chance, it made the decision for him. He pulled the towel so that both ends came apart, so they opened up, so they slid away, so that his sister's body was revealed to his gaze. Mel felt him pulling on it. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to press herself back against him and, thus, stop the towel moving further. But that seemed unthinkable to her. So, as her brother pulled the towel away, Mel revelled in exposing her nakedness to him. "Oh Mel, you are so beautiful." "Oh Gordon," she replied, not being able to think of anything more suitable. "I so want you," Gordon found himself, quite surprisingly saying. "Yes," was the only response Mel could frame, not really giving her brother much of a steer. He was still unsure. Crazy really, considering she was now naked, that he had been kissing her deeply and pressing his engorged cock right against her pubic bone. But it was such a massive step for both of them. His heart pounding, his head spinning with doubt, concern, apprehension, guilt and enormous excitement, he whispered. "Will you come to bed with me Mel?" He has said it, he wants me, he wants us to make love, he wants to have sex with me, my brother wants to fuck me, were phrases that rushed through Mel's mind just before she said simply. "Yes."

*

There's plenty more Nurse's Uniform sex to come. In the next part Emma has extreme sex with Sunni and Ronni get's involved with two men, a cane and a riding crop!



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 11



This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny for me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

We are now well into the story. So a lot of water has flown under the bridge, along with lots of steamy scenes between the amazing set of characters. 

In an ideal world, a new reader to this story would start at the beginning and read Part 1 first. We aren't in a real world though are we? So, as the story jumps around from character to character and fuck to fuck, I thought a brief synopsis here might be helpful.

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

The two main female characters are Sammi and Emma, the male lead is Mike. Sammi is a blonde, twenty five year old, beautiful nurse. Emma is in her early forties, she is awesomely good looking with dark, olive skin and absolutely gorgeous, full, heavily nippled breasts. She runs an agency that supplies nurses to hospitals throughout the Middle East and to upmarket clinics in the UK. Mike, a psychiatrist and one of the leading sexual therapists in the UK runs one of those clinics and he employed Sammi though Emma's agency. That is how they go to know each other.

A main theme running through the stories is will they or won't they? Will Mike shag Sammi, who he fantasises about as he has sex with his long-term partner? Will Emma seduce Mike, or Sammi, and will Sammi and Emma get it on?

At the same time, Ronni, Sammi's flat mate, has a series of dogging, forced sex and other extreme adventures with her older actor lover and sleeps with Sammi. Claire, Mike's live in lover, seduces his partner, as she has previously his brother and one of his financial backers, even wearing her barristers, black silks and wig, and nothing else apart from black hold-ups to do that. Sammi's great friend Mel has a secret that is being revealed as she and her brother Gordy embark on the ultimate taboo. And Emma's continuously more intriguing role with the Saudi Arabian Al Korensi, family is examined as she sleeps with both the father and his two sons and acts as their whore and the business fixer.

See what I mean about being complicated?

This part is a little hard core for it's about anal, spanking S & M and forced sex. For those of you who prefer my usually more subtle approach it might be best to just glance at this to get a flavour of how the story develops. We will be back to my normal style in Part 12.

.

Chapter 1

Mike didn't have the chance to talk to Emma after that amazing foursome. She had gone into another part of the villa and hadn't made a sound or reappeared either, when the girls left or, when his car arrived.

She had, of course, done that purposefully. Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen, though mainly a male philosophy, worked for her.

Back in London he immersed himself in the preparations for the new clinic, whilst continuing with his current practice; although he was due to resign that shortly. Once he got back to work he had numerous business calls and e-mails with Emma who was, if anything, working even harder on the project than he was. She was as amazing with that as she had been with the Thai hookers, he wryly thought. 

Sammi had gone to work full time in the La Crème offices, so he had another, much plainer, but still well-presented nurse from the agency working for him. His case load, given that he had stolen most of the clients for his new practice, was light so he had loads of time to himself. That made things worse, for he had so much time to think of Emma, who he had to admit had now overtaken Sammi as both, his fantasy fuck and his masturbation image. It was really the tits that did that.

Emma was pleased with the way the threesome had worked out. That was largely, because it had gone exactly as she had planned and that was important to her, but also because she had enjoyed both being made to cum by the girls and watching Mike's face as she used them as surrogates for him. Yes they were the instruments that she used to fuck her instead of him. And all of that was neatly on tape locked away very safely with many of her other sexual jaunts. Just as a safeguard, just as a protection.

She really couldn't make her mind up whether she wanted him because, she fancied him or whether it was due to him making himself not available. Probably a little of both, although Emma didn't really believe she could be off limits to any man.

She was also very busy. There was so much to be done on the Windsor project and with that coming near to completion, both Sunni and Ahmad were passing through far more frequently than she liked. And that meant her meeting with them, usually at the most god-awful of hours late at night, and having sex with them singly and together, sometimes for hours on end.

"So tell us more about this Sammi," Sunni said as he lay beside Emma both of them naked, his hand on her breast, her's on his thigh, near to his stunningly hard cock.

They had been in bed half an hour so and although they had had lots of fore-play, he hadn't yet wanted to cum, unlike Emma who had climaxed twice so far.

Emma described her looks, although there were several photos of her in the files she had presented to the family. 

"Blonde, is she?" Sunni said quickly, showing the attraction to that coloured hair that most Arabs have.

"Yes."

"Is it natural?"

"I believe so."

"You don't know for sure?"

"No, not yet?"

"So you are thinking of appointing her to take over some of your businesses and be our er, um representative and you haven't had sex with her?" He said taking his hand from Emma's breast and pushing her on her side, quite firmly. 

She knew immediately what he wanted. She let the pressure roll her onto her side then her front. She folded her arms and rested her chin on them. She slightly opened her legs, knowing that he would then be able to see both her bum hole and her pussy through her parted thighs. He could and ran his finger tip along both.

"Mmmm," she murmured, truthfully. She never feigned her orgasms, for she never had to; she seemed to have that knack of being able to conjure something up, even when her partner was hopeless. "It's what differentiates a courtesan from a hooker," she often told herself as Sunni pressed his fingertip right against her anus.

"Yes I am and I will sort things out, I always do, don't I?" She replied, encouragingly to Sunni, wiggling her bum a little.

He adored Emma's arse. But then why wouldn't he? She did have a fabulous one. Men and women alike accorded her that compliment. It was nicely rounded, it stuck out from the rest of her body, proudly, obviously and just as far as a perfect 10 arse should. Each cheek was like half a peach, both together they made a succulent replica of that fruit. It had that contradictory feel and appearance of being both firm and soft at the same time and it had a beautifully long and mysteriously deep cleavage.

"Yes Emma you do," Sunni murmured as he ran his fingers inside that cleavage. "How attractive is she?" He went on taking hold of each cheek and pulling them apart.

"She's fabulous; didn't you look at the file I sent?" 

Emma was very aware of what was almost certainly going to happen. Sunni was going to fuck her arse, he always did. She could imagine the glint in his eye that showed the desire and want as he stared at the brownish, puckered skin that surrounded her rear entrance, the skin he was now stretching, the entrance he would soon invade.

Like most women she didn't really like anal that much. Not the physical side of it at least. Sure, with a special person there could be a big emotional charge when you gave him your most precious gift and that almost translates into physical pleasure. But actually having a big cock shoved up there by someone you have only a sexual interest in gives little real pleasure.

Emma, though, didn't have the luxury of picking and choosing which of her sexual places are used. In her position they all had to be available, she knew that, she understood that, she was very aware of the rules of being an extremely high class whore. She accepted that if you got what she received you had to give a lot back and if that included the odd fuck up the arse, then so be it!

"No, I never look at such things, Ahmad does that." Sunni said his tone indicating that he was smiling. He was holding Emma's cheeks apart with one hand as he ran the fingers of the other along her crease. It actually felt nice and Emma, almost involuntarily, opened her legs a little wider, squirmed a bit and sighed, quite deeply. Though she didn't like being shagged up the arse, she did like it being played with, it was sensitive and she found fingers and tongues on and slightly up it, very pleasing indeed.

"Well you should Sunni, and you would know that Sammi is beautiful, has a fantastic body, fabulous blonde hair, nice tits and an amazing arse."

"As good as this?" He asked, giving her bum a playful smack. Saudis, thankfully, weren't into pain, S & M, spanking and all that stuff, unlike the bastard Korlen Gunther, Emma thought.

She looked over her shoulder, smiling and muttered. "No not that good Sunni," as he put his hands on her hips and pulled up onto all fours. This was his favourite way to take her, doggy style. She knew her anal shagging was close.

She knelt there, her head resting on her arms, her legs open, her bum cheeks spread. She looked back along her body, between the full breasts hanging down and past her hip to where Sunni was kneeling. He was holding his erection in his hand. He was averagely sized, but with the lubricant he was massaging into it, he looked bigger than that. Emma shuddered at the thought of that going up her, but up she knew it had to and would soon.

She saw him move right behind her, still holding his cock.

"So when do you think you will fuck her?" He asked rubbing the tip of his dick over her cheeks and moving it towards her crease.

"Probably this weekend." Emma replied, her excitement and revulsion building up simultaneously.

She really didn't like Sunni. Unlike Ahmad, who was tender and considerate, treated her with the respect that her position as his father's main whore required in Arab countries and was quite a good lover, Sunni was a pig. He treated her with disdain, was cocky and arrogant, showed no tenderness and insisted on anal every time. On top of all that, he wasn't even very good in bed.

He had placed the knob end of his cock right against her anal entrance. He didn't apply any lubricant to her, but she knew had to him. Typical selfish bastard she thought.

"Why what's happening then?"

"We have another training session for the new therapy."

"So will she and you be seeing real patients?" He asked pressing his cock more firmly against her.

Bracing herself for that moment when he stretches her sphincter, Emma replied.

"No, Mike has lined up some actors."

"Will you fuck them?" He asked nonchalantly, pushing his hips forward sending the bulbous end of his cock into that circle of brown, puckered skin.

"Oooooo shit," Emma gasped as the pain hit her. 

Although she had been having anal sex for many years and had been shagged up there more times than she could count it always hurt to begin with. And that was despite that muscle having been exercised and stretched over the years, to the point that Sunni, in one of his nastier moments when he had drunk too much Black Label whiskey, said. 

"Your arse is getting as slack as your cunt."

It was that, as much as anything else, that had indicated to Emma that her time as the al Korensi family's favourite whore was coming to an end. That, in turn had led to her determination to find a successor who she could manipulate and control. She might be getting too old to fuck for the family, but she was just the right age to fuck them up and that is exactly what she planned to do.

He was bent over her, he was wrapped round her body his hands roughly squeezing and pinching her nice, big tits that due to her kneeling position were dangling down just inviting the attention of his hands. Sunni was buried deep inside her. He wasn't an anal adventurer who slipped just inside a woman's arse. No for Sunni it was, as in everything he did, all the way. And he was all the way into Emma. Right into her, as far as he could be into her, so far in, that his pubic mound was rubbing inside her crease, his balls slapping against her thighs. She had closed her legs so that her thighs were touching, that increased the sensations. She might not like anal very much and she might have an aversion to her anal invader, but whenever Emma got fucked anywhere, she tried to enjoy it and that included when she was being fucked up her arse by that pig Sunni.

He pulled her upright, roughly. He had been gripping her tit with one hand and her hip with another, when he had noticed her closing her legs. That increased her tightness. Although he resented her and the power she had over his father and despite him thinking she was too old, Sunni had to admit that Emma was a fucking good fuck.

"That good is it?" He growled, grabbing both her full tits and pulling her upright.

"Yes, yes Sunni it is," she grunted squirming her bum a little, giving herself more pleasure and at the same time making her bum hole tighter.

She reached up and cupped her tits, revelling in the feelings she gave herself. She also knew that Sunni liked seeing her do that, but then she hadn't yet met a man who didn't like seeing her roll her full globes of tit flesh around.

"So will you act as a patient?"

"No" she grunted, his cock seeming to be so far up her she was surprised it wasn't poking out of her mouth.

There wasn't a lot Sunni could do by way of movement in such a position; she knew that for they had been in it several times before. It was not a good position for fucking, but it was a great one for the tightness and depth of penetration, so it suited an arrogant, selfish sod like him.

"Who will then?"

"I told you, actors," Emma grunted as she felt his fingers pawing at her stomach. 

She was now, being fucked up her arse, she was stimulating her own tits and nipples and Sunni was fingering her cunt and clit. She thought to herself, I might not be a great fan of anal sex, but this can't be bad can it?

"So what will you do?" He asked jerking his cock quite hard.

"Well so I know what's going and so that I can help Mike if required, I'm doing the training programme as well."

"This is the one, isn't it, where the nurses and the patients fuck each other isn't it?"

"No not necessarily, it all depends," Emma replied as her body, inevitably, responded to the multiple stimulations.

"On what?"

"On their problems and what is needed to help them overcome them."

"But that might mean fucking them?" Sunni asked.

"Yes, I suppose it could, but more just touching, stroking, kissing and talking, probably." Emma explained.

"Talking dirty?"

"Probably. Word association is used a lot in treating neuroses."

"What like me saying, my cock's up your arse, Emma and you having to say what comes into your mind?" He asked, quite surprising Emma with his knowledge.

"Yes, precisely."

"So what does come into your mind when I said that?"

"Excitement."

"And when I say, now fuck me, because I can't move to fuck you, what then?

"Willingly," Emma answered truthfully, shoving herself up and down on his rigid prick until she made both of them cum.

Chapter 2

Roni hadn't seen or heard from Preston since that evening he had taken her dogging. That wasn't unusual. In fact with the sort of dom/sub relationship they had, it was perfectly normal.

In any case she was preoccupied. She was working, she was acting, she was taping the TV soap she had auditioned for and won a part in. True, hugely frustratingly for her, the part she was playing was described by the writers as "a plump girl going to seed," but it was a part. 

The taping was taking place at studios near to Birmingham, which is in the middle of England, some one hundred and thirty miles from where Roni lived. That, of course, meant staying in a hotel with some of the crew and most of the cast, which in turn, naturally, resulted in most nights them playing "musical beds."

So, for the three nights a week for three weeks Roni was taping, she certainly wasn't frustrated and certainly didn't miss Preston. But then she never did. It was one of those relationships that was amazingly intense when they were together, but which almost didn't exist in either of their minds when they were apart. That said, Preston only had to call, text or e-mail and Roni came running.

She had that night when he had humiliated her in the pub by making her wear a dress that was far too tight for her with nothing under it, and then had taken her dogging.

Roni had, of course, read about it and had wondered what it would be like to be with total strangers, but had never thought she would be involved. It hadn't occurred to her when Preston had pulled up in that car park, round the back of Highgate cemetery; it hadn't entered her head when he had made her lie back, undo all the buttons down the front of the, too tight, dress and pull it away from her body and it hadn't registered when he had put on the internal light and opened the window. She hadn't thought any further than her own pleasure when she did as he demanded and started to masturbate herself. Being physically involved with the people she had seen moving around the car park, hadn't registered with her, even when she was aware that they were looking in through the half open window and it hadn't hit her that she might be, even when Preston started to masturbate. Even as she watched him cum and felt his spunk splatter on her face, tits and tummy as the guys outside made ribald comments, she didn't think any further.

It was only when she recoiled and jerked herself towards the central console of the Merc when the door opened; that it hit that she might be involved. It registered a little more when she tried to pull the door shut and Preston said, loudly and sternly.

"Leave that fucking door alone."

"But Preston someone might come in."

It became a little clearer when he replied.

"Of course they might, you stupid cow, that's why you're here and the doors are unlocked."

"What.... What will they do?"

"Whatever they want Roni, they can do whatever they want to you, that's what sluts are for, isn't it?

Before she could reply three guys had wedged themselves into the space of the front door and another had opened the back. The way the seat was reclined, her face was behind the centre pillar, her tits about level with it and her stomach and bare thighs in front of it.

The guy in the back was pushing his cock towards her face.

"Shit he wants me to suck it," she thought looking at Preston, who simply smiled. 

The others in the front were stroking her tits, pushing their hands between her legs and getting their cocks out.

"Please, please, Preston, no," she implored him.

"Shut up. If I want you to talk I'll tell you and until I do just shut the fuck up."

Roni was scared. Scared of Preston, scared of the situation she was in, scared of the four men crowding round her and of the others looking in through the driver's side window and the windscreen. Most of all she was scared of herself, her reaction, her feelings. She was, she realised enjoying it, she was acting, putting on a show, just as she had earlier in the pub.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 11



She still had her feet up on the seat, she was still lying back on the chairs as good as naked, she was still sticky from Preston's cum and she was still touching herself.

"Cum all over her lads," she heard Preston saying. "Cum on her, wherever you want."

His words were magic to her. It was what she fantasised about. Could there be a more humiliating experience? Could she be more abused, demeaned and degraded? Surely not. Surely her lover giving her to four men to cum all over her was the ultimate. And to Roni it was exactly that.

The man that was half in and half out of the back door came first. He had moved nearer so his cock was right over her face. At the same time the others had crowded round her so that she now had four cocks near to her, pointing at her, aiming at her. Four, hard, straining, unknown cocks. Four cocks that were being wanked by four faceless, unknown men. Men she would never meet, men she would never know, men that she would never see. But men that were wanking because of her, were wanking about her, yes men that were going to wank on her.

Roni slid her hands down her body, away from her cum stained tits and granite-hard nipples, down between her lewdly spread thighs and right to where her, soaked and throbbing cunt was flashing its pink, openness at its audience. 

She looked around. She caught the gaze of each of the three guys crowding in and alongside the front of the car and, looking back, up and over the cock that was level with her eyes, she stared at the bloke who was squeezed in beside the opened rear door. Their eyes were, sparkling, their gazes were transfixed, they couldn't tear them away. Roni was centre stage, she was the star attraction, they were all looking at her and hanging on her every move. She didn't disappoint them, she couldn't, after all, she was an actor, albeit a plump girl going to seed.

She ran her fingers on both hands round her lips, wetted them and then pinched her nipples. She lifted each of her big, soft tits up and licked them loving the expressions of excitement, the grunts and groans from her masturbating audience. She stroked herself, she rubbed herself and she caressed herself as she built up to the final act.

Looking around at the guys, but more at Preston for his approval, she was so excited to see the four hands pumping the four cocks. But that excitement was nothing compared to what she felt when she saw that Preston's cock was no longer soft and limp. True it wasn't strainingly hard like the others and sure it wasn't' poking vertically up his belly, but it was at half-mast, it was standing out straight from his pubes, it was horizontal to the ground, it was harder than she had ever seen it so soon after cumming.

Her eyes not leaving Preston's for a moment as she saw him take hold of his cock, Roni held her right hand so it hovered over her slightly bulging tummy. She used her left hand to pull her lips apart. She straightened the fingers on her right hand; she pulled her little finger into her palm with her thumb so her three middle fingers were straight and taught. And then, as she stared at Preston and heard the grunts and moans from the other guys, Roni shoved those three straightened fingers right up her cunt and started to fuck herself with them.

She felt spunk splattering onto her face from the guy behind her first. A stream followed by several globules dripped onto her forehead, cheeks, lips and chin. That acted as a signal to the others, for suddenly spunk seemed to be everywhere. The other three ejaculated almost simultaneously. It was on her thighs, her belly, her chest, her tits, her pussy, even her feet and lower legs.

Roni had certainly been dogged that night.

"Come to the flat on Friday at two pm."

That was all the text said. No hello, goodbye or, as they say in Liverpool, Roni's home town, kiss your arse or nothing. Just do as I fuckingwell tell you.

Her first reaction was bollocks, quickly followed by fuck you and then piss off you big perv. The main reason she was so forward was that she received the text just after a long afternoon of sex with a tasty cameraman. Expecting him to ask her to dinner and for them to spend the night together, she was pissed off when he had casually said, "Thanks for the fuck luv," and had left.

So she didn't say fuck you, bollocks or piss off to Preston, but instead checked the train times from Birmingham to Euston.

"I want you to wear a short, mid thigh, flared skirt. A kilt would do, even though I would prefer a thinner material, but pleated would be good. Under that you must wear see through panties, ideally pink net, but they must be full so that the waist band really is round your waist."

"What on earth is this all about?" Roni was wondering as she idly stroked her big breasts through the tee shirt that was far too tight for her. 

As with many people who put on weight, Roni was in denial about it. When she looked in the mirror she still saw the sex Goddess, the glamorous actress and the Stringfellow's lap and pole dancer; the plump girl going to seed wasn't on her radar!

Preston was going on.

"I want you to wear a white blouse, a tight one and no bra. I want to be able to see those big, fat tits of yours through it. I want to see the outline of your nipples and that big bit in the middle. I want to see that when it gets hard, like it is now, isn't it Ron?"

It was, but then that wasn't surprising for she was still on heat from the quite smashing fuck with the cameraman and she had been stroking her breasts for the past few minutes.

"Yes Preston," she said quietly.

"You are a real slag aren't you? You playing with those big floppy lumps?"

"Yes, yes I am," she whimpered, slightly ashamed, but becoming aroused by his abuse and language.

"You filthy bitch, that's what you are, a fucking, dirty, filthy slag and bitch aren't you?"

"I am Preston, yes I am."

"So make sure that blouse is really tight and, for once, try and do your hair nicely and look pretty. Look young not like the fucking old slut you are."

"Yes Preston."

"You're feeling horny aren't you?"

"Yes Preston."

"And you're feeling yourself aren't you?"

"Yes," Ronni replied as her hand cupped her breast and pinched her nipple. The truth was she was feeling fucking horny and badly needed release; Preston did that to her when he treated her this way. The bastard she often thought.

"Those big tits?"

"Yes."

"What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"What are you feeling? Tell me."

"Oh right, yes. I'm feeling my tits Preston."

"And what are they like?"

"Big and fat, Preston, soft and large, just as you like."

"Don't tell me what I like."

"No sorry."

"Ok, so have you got them out?"

"No, should I?"

"What sort of stupid fucking question is that? Of course you fucking should. Get those big saggy tits out and play with them."

She did as she was told. Her hands squeezing the bare flesh of her breasts was, as usual, lovely.

"Is that good?" Preston asked gently.

"Mmmm, yes Preston it is."

"Touch you pussy for me Roni," he said quietly.

Roni slid her hand between her opened legs and into her panties; she was very wet.

"Do you want more?"

"Yes Preston, yes please?"

"How much more?"

"As much as you want?"

"Do you want to masturbate Ron?"

"Yes," she grunted as her finger slithered around her clit.

"You want me to help you wank, do you?"

"Oh yes please Preston," she answered, feeling thrilled at his attention.

The phone went dead in her hand

"This is Craig," Preston shocked Roni by saying just after she had entered his flat in Hampstead. 

She was shocked that anyone else was there, shocked that it was a young guy, probably in his late teens, and she was mostly shocked to see that both he and Preston were wearing dressing gowns. Nice ones, matching ones actually in blue silk, but why? Had they been having sex? Were they waiting for her? Was Preston going to give her to him as he had once before or was she going to have to have both of them? She stood in the entrance hall of Preston's large flat certainly shocked, somewhat apprehensive, but also excited. She always felt like that when meeting Preston, he was a master of the unexpected.

"Say hello to Craig, Roni, don't make him think you're rude as well being fat and ignorant."

"Hello Craig," Roni said, looking into the coldest pair of eyes she had ever seen. Despite that, she had to admit that he was good looking and reconciled the fact that, although she might be frivolously given away by Preston, at least it would be to a young, good looking guy and not some old, fat bloke.

"Well done, Roni," she heard Preston saying as she and Craig looked at each other.

"What? Oh sorry Preston, what do you mean?

"You look just right."

Enjoying his compliment, Roni preened a little.

"Oh thanks, thank you Preston."

"She does look just right doesn't she Craig?" Preston said walking past her, standing next to the young man and slipping his arm round his shoulders.

"Yes perfect," Craig agreed sliding his arm round Preston's waist and dangling his hand on the older man's hip.

"Spot on in fact," Preston continued. "Young and tarty and fat and slutty." He walked over to Roni and, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, looked her right in the eye as he snarled. "It comes easy to you doesn't it, because that is what you are isn't it? A fat tart and a young slut?"

Roni didn't reply.

"Isn't it, you fucking stupid bitch?" He continued, squeezing her chin and turning her face so it hurt her neck. "Isn't it?"

"Yes, yes Preston, I am."

"See Craig I told she was perfect didn't I?"

"Yes you did, you said she was a fat cow and a dirty bitch, are you, you slag?"

"Yes Craig," Roni whimpered, actually feeling scared looking into Craig's stunningly blue, but chillingly cold eyes. 

Preston still had her head turned at an angle and that was stretching the white cotton of the cheap blouse she had managed to buy on the way to the station in Birmingham. Each button was straining against the buttonhole, even more so than when she had worn the grey dress in the pub for, on the blouse, there was more space between each one. On top of that, if anything, it was also even tighter on her than the dress. She had tried the blouse on in the shop, slipping her bra off to see the effect. Yes, the full roundness of her areola could be seen, yes her nipples, which had been erect since she had entered the flat, were making large mounds in the thin cotton and yes, between each button, she was showing her flesh.

Craig came over to her as well, his eyes boring into hers. He stood facing her one knee bent poking out through the fold of his robe.

"Nice tits, slut." He said, smiling and making Roni feel good as he reached out and cupped her left breast. With Preston turning her head, Roni had to look at Craig out the of the corners of her eyes so she couldn't see what he was doing, only feel it. His first touch was fine.

"Thank you Craig," she murmured enjoying his fingers squeezing her.

"Nice nipples as well, big ones. They very sensitive?"

"Yes they are," Preston joined in obviously feeling a bit left out. "Aren't they Ron?"

"Mmmmm very."

"So you've got very sensitive nipples have you, bitch. Tell me." The young man insisted.

"I have very sensitive nipples Craig."

The pain hit her suddenly.

"Oh fuck," she gasped as a shaft of searing heat exploded in her right nipple."

"Now, now slut, you shouldn't swear."

"Sorry," Roni mumbled knowing the rules of the dom sub game.

"So you should be," Preston snarled, his arm going round her neck, pulling her head back and making her choke. "You shouldn't swear Roni, especially at my friends."

"No, no I know, I am sorry."

"That's not enough, that's easy you dirty bitch," he went on as Roni felt his knee against her bum. He pulled harder yanking her back further. "You will have to pay for that won't she Craig?"

"She's going to right now Preston."

Roni felt that searing pain again, but this time in her left nipple, then both at once, then in her tits as they were squeezed and twisted, very hard

She was squirming, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes as both of the men pawed at her tits and nipples. She felt the pressure first, then the tearing noise, then the release and, finally, the sound of a button hitting the table.

"Oh fuck," she thought. "He's ripped the fucking buttons off."

"Mmmm, nice, big, soft, floppy tits." Craig said as he groped the now naked tits, areolas and nipples. His finger nails dug into them as Preston hurt her almost as much by twisting her head back and pulling on her hair, very firmly.

Roni didn't mind many, most really, of the insults, but she was as hurt when Craig added, "old lady's tits", as she had been when she had heard the description of the actress wanted for the part she was playing in the soap.

"They look better with spunk all over them," Preston offered.

"Well they couldn't look worse could they?" Craig said as he continued, yanking, squeezing and pinching them."

At last they stopped. But Roni knew she was still in big trouble. She knew there was lots more to come, more insults, more abuse, more pain, more hurt. Why the fuck did I get mixed up with the turd? She said to herself for the umpteenth time, knowing full well why and that was that Preston gave her something she needed. What the hell that exactly was, she had no idea. All she knew was that no matter how badly he treated her, she always came back for more.

"Ok slut stand over there," Preston ordered, pointing to the centre of the room.

Roni did as she was told realising that Craig had torn all the buttons off the blouse.

"Lift your skirt up."

She did.

"Higher."

She pulled it further up.

"Get it round your fucking waist, we want to see your arse and cunt," Preston told her.

She should have known, she should have thought about it, she should have taken it into account when she had chosen the pale pink panties. Yes, Roni should have realised that her dampness would show.

"Look at that Preston, the slut's been wetting herself, she's only been fucking cumming." Craig said as he undid the tie of his dressing gown.

"She always does, you only have to touch her tits and she cums, she's a dirty little bitch." Preston said following Craig's lead and also undoing the sash round the waist of his dressing gown.

She looked at the two men wondering what would happen next. Their gowns had fallen open and she could see that they were both hard. That gave her some satisfaction. Making them hard was down to her, she thought, although in reality it was the buzz of hurting her physically and emotionally that had done that. To them it was like a journey; it was getting to where you wanted to be that was the objective and pleasure, not the bus you travelled on.

Preston walked over to her the folds of his robe flapping open revealing his short, stubby, erect cock. She hadn't fully seen Craig's yet. He didn't say anything but stood before her, put a hand on either side of her face and pulled. Roni guessed immediately. "The old fart wants a blow job."

She went to kneel down to get her face in line with his cock, but he held her up, making her bend at the waist. That didn't seem to be a problem, Roni thought, reaching out and taking hold of Preston's dick. 

Bent at almost ninety degrees at the waist, Roni stood there, her blouse open, her big, floppy tits hanging down, her skirt round her waist, her bum stuck out in the full, pink net panties. She got her mouth close to his dick and gave it an experimental lick right from his balls to his bulbous tip. 

She never knew how he would react to oral. Sometimes, no sooner was he in her mouth, than he would start thrusting and fucking her face to then quickly explode, usually on her cheeks and across her eyes. Other times, he would last for ages making her work hard until he was ready. Then he would cum in her mouth, making her swallow most of his sperm, but licking her lips and tongue, tasting himself before they finished. What was it to be this time, she wondered, sucking his length deep into her mouth? She ran her tongue and lips up and down his cock a few times, quite enjoying it. She stroked his balls and scratched the base of his cock, just where it vanishes into his scrotum, with her fingernails, which had been specially manicured for her part in the soap.

Then thwack, thwack, thwack, all hell broke loose. Not just with sound, but also with the crashing of something right on the cheeks of her arse. She went to turn to look, but Preston grabbed her face and shoved his cock hard into her throat. 

Thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack, thwack. More blows rained down on her. It hurt like fuck, but what the hell was it? She felt her panties being rolled down and more thwacks. They were spanking her, she realised, adding in her thoughts, It don't take a fucking genius to work that out!"

At last Preston pulled out of her mouth enabling her to turn round. Craig was naked, holding what looked like a big table tennis bat. As she watched over her shoulder he hit her with it several times alternating the spanking from cheek to cheek and varying the places where he hit her. As he did, his cock seemed to grow, bigger and harder.

"Hold the back of the chair," she was ordered. She grabbed it as she saw Preston go across the room, dropping his robe on the way. Turning back towards her she was horrified to see that he had a bamboo cane in his hand.

"No, no Preston." She said, now seriously scared.

"Shut the fuck up," he snarled.

She now looked at Craig and was even more horrified to see him holding a riding crop. 

They alternated the riding crop and then the cane, then both together. Soft, hard, soft, soft, soft, hard, hard, hard, soft, soft, hard, soft. There was a pattern, she thought through her fogged up mind, but what? There should have been a pattern, but none of them in their highly agitated states knew what it was. The two men, excited beyond their expectations, by Roni's big wobbly bum covered by their marks; deep red patches from the paddle that Craig had used and now quite vicious-looking wheals from the cane and crop: it looked fabulous and made their already rampant cocks even harder.

She cried, she sobbed, she moaned, she grunted, she groaned, she sighed, she ooohed and then she aaaahed.

Her arse was alight, it seared with pain, it smarted, it hurt, it burned, it was hot, now warm and then it glowed.

She was hurt, she was in pain, she couldn't take it, she became confused, the pain changed the hurt altered, other feelings erupted.

Roni hated them, she despised Preston, she loathed Craig, she abhorred all men. Her mind was far from sex, it was being manipulated by her arse being attacked and destroyed. It was thinking illogically, it didn't make any sense, there was no sense; having your arse beaten wasn't sense, how could it be? How could having your arse spanked by two naked men with a cane and a crop make sense? But then how the fuck could feeling yourself starting to cum because your arse was being spanked happen? It couldn't could it? Could it? Oh bollocks, Roni thought, as suddenly, desperately and so fucking decadently she realised, it could and it was. For yes, she was having an orgasm from the pain in her arse!



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 12



And so we roll on finding out more and more about our stars, the uniform and how clothing can influence and enhance sexual activity.

Regular readers can probably skip the rest of this intro, newcomers need to read it and, preferably, some of the earlier parts. But then, hey, that's up to you.

This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny for me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

We are now well into the story. So a lot of water has flown under the bridge, along with lots of steamy scenes between the amazing set of characters. 

In an ideal world, a new reader to this story would start at the beginning and read Part 1 first. We aren't in a real world though are we? So, as the story jumps around from character to character and fuck to fuck, I thought a brief synopsis here might be helpful.

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

The two main female characters are Sammi and Emma, the male lead is Mike. Sammi is a blonde, twenty five year old, beautiful nurse. Emma is in her early forties, she is awesomely good looking with dark, olive skin and absolutely gorgeous, full, heavily nippled breasts. She runs an agency that supplies nurses to hospitals throughout the Middle East and to upmarket clinics in the UK. Mike, a psychiatrist and one of the leading sexual therapists in the UK runs one of those clinics and he employed Sammi though Emma's agency. That is how they go to know each other.

A main theme running through the stories is will they or won't they? Will Mike shag Sammi, who he fantasises about as he has sex with his long-term partner? Will Emma seduce Mike, or Sammi, and will Sammi and Emma get it on?

At the same time, Ronni, Sammi's flat mate, has a series of dogging, forced sex and other extreme adventures with her older actor lover and sleeps with Sammi. Claire, Mike's live in lover, seduces his partner, as she has previously his brother and one of his financial backers, even wearing her barristers, black silks and wig, and nothing else apart from black hold-ups to do that. Sammi's great friend Mel has a secret that is being revealed as she and her brother Gordy embark on the ultimate taboo. And Emma's continuously more intriguing role with the Saudi Arabian Al Korensi, family is examined as she sleeps with both the father and his two sons and acts as their whore and the business fixer.

See what I mean about being complicated?

This part is includes two touchy topics, brother and sister incest and lesbian sex. All done very tastefully though!

Chapter 1

Gordon led his naked sister to the bedroom. 

They were quiet and reserved, but highly aroused, yet scared and concerned. They knew, full well, that they were about to cross a boundary; they knew they had already crossed many and that there was just one more to overcome. And they were about to cross that, for Gordon was leading his siter into the bedroom to fuck her. 

That Mel was naked, that they were holding hands, that they were going to the bedroom were all boundaries. That Gordon had held Mel in his arms, that they had kissed so deeply and passionately and that Gordon had become erect were all further boundaries; boundaries they had crossed. Just like the boundary of Gordon pressing his erection against his sister, of Mel squirming herself against her brother and of her womanly juices pouring out from her. They were all boundaries, barriers really. Barriers against what they were about to do. Yes, they were crossing the boundaries and smashing down the barriers about a brother and sister making love and having sex, for Gordon was about to fuck his sister Mel.

"God Gordon, I am so scared," Mel groaned as they reached the bed and stood beside it.

"So am I." Gordon reassured her. That made Mel feel better, as if it really made any difference; sex with your brother was incest whether you both felt good or bad about it.

"We can stop at any time," he said considerately as he sat Mel down on the bed. "Any time you want, my darling," he went on looking at her as, with shaking hands, he lifted his tee shirt up and over his head. 

Mel looked at her brother's tanned and sculpted, muscular and toned chest. He was almost hairless, but looked fabulous. He had a fantastic physique. He certainly was the one who had inherited their mother Charlotte's good looks; her full lips, pert nose, big eyes, long eyelashes, jet-black hair and taught, but nicely rounded body. Unlike Mel who was physically, very much her father's daughter. He had been as thin as a rake all of his life and during none of it had anyone, other than the line of mistresses he had lavished money and gifts upon and the hookers he had paid thousands, sometimes in a single night to, called him handsome. It was the same with Mel. She was the sort of girl that her friends at college described as "she's got nice hair" or "she's very slim." Not, as they said about her great friend Sammi, "She's fucking gorgeous."

For his twenty two years, Mel was three and a bit years younger, Gordon was very experienced sexually. Very experienced, but totally fucked up. He wasn't sure whether he was gay, straight or bi, or whether he was the male equivalent of a nympho or someone that just couldn't care less. He was used to girls offering themselves to him and to guys coming onto him. He took a little of both, and sometimes too much of one or the other. He wasn't picky. To him, a hand was a hand, a mouth a mouth, their gender was irrelevant, all that mattered was the time and the opportunity.

He had been trained well, by both mum and dad, unbeknown to the other. Dad with his hookers, mum with her body. So, yes he was experienced and yes, he was fucked up, but hey, he would say, "Who isn't one way or the other?

Both of them, deep down, recognised that they had relationship difficulties, that their closeness was unusual and that their intimacy could well, by society's fucking ridiculous standards, lead them towards problems. They had known, with a sort of dread, for some time that they would go "too far," that they would overstep the mark, cross the barrier and breach the taboo. Yes, both had known that it wouldn't be long before they slept together, made love, had sex or, whatever it was called when a brother and a sister fucked.

Sitting naked on the edge of her bed, watching her brother Gordon unzipping himself, pushing his jeans and boxers down in one go and standing before her with absolutely no inhibitions at all rampantly naked, Mel knew that this was that time. As she saw him join her in free and beautiful, but to many in their situation, so sordid and immoral, nudity, her heart started to pound. Not just because of the intimacy of their situation, not just because of the anticipation of what was to come and not just because of the taboo they were addressing. It was also due to the sheer beauty of the man, her brother that stood before her.

"Oh God, Gordon," she moaned reaching out and wrapping her arms round his hips.

His body was tanned all over, so different to her pasty pallor. It was smooth, muscular, lithe and looked so fit. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him. 

Mel wasn't that experienced, but had been with a few boys; Gordon, she thought to herself, would be her first man.

And as she cuddled his hips so she came in contact with his cock. It was unavoidable, inevitable and wonderful. It pressed against her cheeks, his balls dangling down and rubbing on her chin. It was all so natural and unplanned, but all so exciting for both of them.

Gordon wanted his sister so badly. It wasn't because he was strongly attracted to her physically for, in truth, she didn't have the sort of body he usually went for. He was an avowed "tits and ass" man. Mel's friend, Sammi was more his type, although ideally he preferred bigger tits than her b cup little beauties. It was an emotional attachment, a mental attraction, a mind game, a brain draw, with Mel. It always had been for as long as he could remember, for as long as he had been sexually active, for as long as his mother had primed and readied him, for as long as she had created the circumstances where he wanted, no desperately needed, to fuck his sister.

Mel had similar feelings. Ever since puberty she had been attracted to Gordon, although being so young it had, to her just seemed like typical brotherly love. It wasn't until she became a woman, had full womanly feelings and had been fucked as a woman that she realised just what her feelings were and how powerfully she had them for him. It wasn't typical brotherly or sibling love, it was, full on, hard core, straightforward lust for him. The moment it dawned on her that she wanted him to fuck her, was a moment she would never forget; a moment of such significance in her life, a seminal moment, a once in a lifetime moment; a moment that would only be outstripped by the moment when indeed she and Gordon had sex.

And that moment had arrived.

Chapter 2

Emma was absolutely correct in terming Sammi as a typical, London club scene, lipstick. 

Girls like her were a 21st century phenomenon. She was very much a woman, she had an active sex life with men, she dressed feminine, looked feminine in every way and indeed she was very feminine. But she also liked girls. She liked being with them, touching them and kissing them and being touched and kissed by them. She had no time for, and wasn't attracted to, butch, short haired, dungaree wearing, masculine lesbians. To her and the many other girls she knew and the thousands splattered around London she didn't know, a little bit of bi action on the side was all part of a full and healthy sex life. It was all part of being a lipstick lesbian, a dolly dyke.

Her "dabbling", as she thought of it, hadn't started during her pubity. At school, and during that period of her life, it would no more have entered her mind to contemplate sex with a girl than it would to have fantasised about being the central character in a six guy and her gang bang, as she did now. All part of growing up, she now put it down to as she masturbated thinking of six guys filling her orifices and cumming all over her body.

It hadn't really started until after she had lost her virginity, to a boy that was! Once that inconvenient social nicety was neatly out the way, Sam could get down to developing and enjoying her sex life. As in most things she was interested in, she was a quick learner and a bit obsessive. She had always thrown herself wholeheartedly into new hobbies, interests and sports. Sex was no different. So she had a period in her early twenties when she went for it. Went for it with guys mainly, but then, girls as well. That side of her sexuality has never played a particularly large part of her sex life, but it has played a meaningful and thoroughly enjoyable one. Sammi half believed that, initially at least, it was the adventure, the breaking with convention, the experimentation and the tasting the forbidden that was the prime attraction: as well as of course the softness of a girl's skin and the feel of her tits in her hands.

Her first time had been with a German girl she had met on holiday in Ibiza. Sammi had gone with a group of friends for the club opening week in May as, so it seemed, had half the young people from all over Europe. San Antonio was packed to the rafters with thousands of 18 to 25 year olds intent on having a fantastic time. It really was party, party time with most people not hitting the streets until 10 or so for dinner, getting to the early clubs around midnight and the later ones around 2 or 3, often not finishing until they closed anywhere between 6 and 8 in the morning. The booze flowed like rivers, there were pills and poppers everywhere and the atmosphere was totally decadent and absolutely, anything goes. For a nineteen year old, sexually adventurous girl it was absolutely fabulos.

The nights were warm, even around 4.00 am and that, of course, encouraged the female youth of Europe to dress sparingly. Everywhere one looked there was flesh: long, bare legs, slim and not so slim, even chunky, thighs, backs of all shapes and sizes and of course fronts, chests, boobs, breasts and tits. Yes, the female youth of Europe in Ibiza that year, seemed intent on flashing as much of themselves as they could, without being naked, at the male youth of Europe. 

The longer the nights lasted, the more of the female bodies were displayed. It was not unusual by around 4.00 am to see several girls dancing topless in a club, some mooning others dispensing with their micro-skirts and dancing in their thongs while occasionally there would be a full nude. Flashes of most of a breast or a girl's panties were so common as to not even warrant a stare.

Looking back, Sammi often thought that her initiation into girl/girl sex was inevitable in such an atmosphere.

Birgitte wasn't gorgeous, but she was intriguing. She didn't have a great body, but by Christ did she know how to flaunt it. She wasn't a classic beauty, but the combination of her slimness, her mop of black, curly hair, her perfect English with an alluring accent and her supreme self-confidence had made her hugely popular in the group of twenty or so girls they were now mixing with. The fact that she flashed her tits almost as easily as she would brush her hair from her eyes, a gesture that Sammi found unusually erotic, and that she fucked a different guy most nights, added considerably to her reputation and stature amongst their group. She became the de facto leader, well at least spiritually.

The two girls got on well, they found quite a few things in common and Sammi's spattering of schoolgirl German helped enormously. As the ten-day holiday progressed they got on better and better, they spent more time together, they talked more, they sat next to each other at meals, laid next to each other round the pool and on the beach and, most nights they danced together quite a lot, as did most of the girls, the boy pulling started after the girls left the clubs and hit the bars. They became closer and closer, they became more intimate with each other, they touched a lot, put their arms through the others and put sun oil on each other by the pool. Late at night, in the clubs, as tops came off, as skirts were hitched up and as thongs, bums and boobs were flashed they flashed their bits at each other and both liked what they saw. As the clubs closed, so everyone kissed, an Ibiza tradition. 

Birgitte and Sammi were no exception. The first club on the first night, just a peck on the cheek, the second club that night they put their arms round each other and, as the third club was ending, they pressed their bodies together. That night, well early around 6 the next morning, when Sammi went to bed, for the first time in her life, she masturbated about a girl, Birgitte.

The next day they were a little quiet with each other. They were both feeling something. That night, their dancing was more "dirty", their touching more obvious and lingering and their gazes at each other more sultry. And, of course, as the clubs closed so their kissing was more adventurous until at the third club it was an open mouthed, lips squirming, tongue probing kiss.

"I have never done that with a girl before," Birgitte whispered as they stared at each other, still holding hands.

"Neither have I," Sammi replied.

That night, Sammi didn't need to masturbate about Birgitte. Birgitte did it for her.

They left the club together, arm in arm. They walked down the strip, still arm in arm, but then they turned off into a side street and they held hands. Their friends would be hitting the wild bars, but they went to a quiet place, by themselves. They sat close, they talked, not about what had happened and what was happening and not about sex; just chat. They didn't make plans or suggest anything.

But as Birgitte's room mate had pulled and Sammi's hadn't, it seemed just natural to go to the German girl's room. There, they didn't talk, well not much. Birgitte had some vodka, which they drank from the tooth glasses, there wasn't a mini bar, they don't do those in Ibiza. 

The girls never drank much in the clubs and bars for fear of stuff being slipped into their drinks, so they were both completely sober. Looking back, Sammi always felt pleased about that: pleased that her first adventure outside hetero-sexual sex was not induced by outside influence. 

They didn't have full on lesbian sex. There was no sudden finding of a strong desire to give or receive oral sex. It's often, no it's usually, like that with girls who are experimenting, girls who are curious, girls who are exploring their sexuality, girls who are venturing into bi sex, girls who are, as Emma puts it, lipsticks or dolly dykes.

With them, it is more mutual masturbation than hard line sex. More touching and feeling, stroking and caressing than body grinding gyrations. It was finding out, trying things, more experimenting than anything else. Neither girl was experienced or knowledgeable; they didn't really know what to do, what was expected and what the other, or themselves come to that, really wanted. Equally, they probably didn't know what they shouldn't do, but their natural womanly instincts and innate sexual intuition guided them

They didn't kiss that much; that was more what you did with men, what you did with someone you were pretending to love, well for the moments you were being intensely intimate with them. It was too personal for girls who were branching out, women who were reaching out, females who were coming out. So, the kisses were more spontaneous than planned or really shared. They were tentative. They were pecks on the shoulder, little ones on the cheeks, soft and easy, but rather hesitant and quick ones that were almost stolen, rather than taken as the girl's rights. As yet they had no sexual rights with each other, that was what tonight was mostly about; establishing those rights. 

They sat on the bed next to other, there was only one chair, and sipped their vodka. They were quiet; they both knew they were going to do something. Something that their bodies demanded, but which their minds resisted. Deep down, though, both girls knew that their bodies would win. And win they did,

As the neat vodka slightly corrupted their minds and loosened their inhibitions so: they found themselves lying back on the bed, turning onto their sides, looking into each others eyes and touching each other.

"Let's take our clothes off," Birgitte whispered, her fingers finding the zip on Sammi's ridiculously brief excuse for a skirt.

Without breaking their glances they rolled slightly away from each other. Their eyes locked, their fingers and hands busied themselves with buttons and zips, easing tops out of skirts and pulling and pushing clothes off. Without saying anything, they undressed completely. They stared at each other's nakedness and, with the alcohol induced bravery, ran their fingers across the other's body. Neither, though, really knew what to do. That didn't matter for pleasure was the only thing they needed, not skill or expertise. And both were giving and getting exactly that.

They stroked each others body, cupped their breasts, squeezed that flesh and pinched and pulled the hardened, aching nipples. They took each other in their arms and squirmed their bodies against the other, pushed their breasts together and rubbed their flat tummies on the others. They tentatively touched stomachs, bums, cheeks, thighs and eventually pubic mounds. They kissed now and then, but more they concentrated on what they were doing with their hands and fingers.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 12



They occasionally grunted or sighed or let out little moans or sighs as a surge of sensation or passion hit them. 

Eventually, it was Birgitte who slid her fingers between Sammi's thighs. It was Sammi who opened her legs. Birgitte who touched her partner's wetness, Sammi who pushed herself against the exploring fingers and Birgitte who shoved two fingers up Sammi's cunt. Sammi grunted and reached out. Birgitte thrust herself towards the enquiring hand that slid between her slender thighs. 

They lay side by side on the narrow bed, naked. Both were having their first, as they thought of at it at the time, lesbian experience. Their minds exploded with both extreme physical sensations and the extremities of guilt and concern. Those emotions, but also relief and a sense of adventure and achievement. Both had wanted to do this for some time, both had felt this urge, this need, this desire. Yes, both had wanted to fuck another woman and now they were doing just that.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 13



Most of you know by now what this is all about. Those that don't might like to read some previous parts to acquaint themselves with the story and characters.

Chapter 1

It wasn't a fuck. It wasn't a shag or a screw either. They were not having it off, fucking about or, even having sex. What they were doing was much different to that. It was more intense, more tender and intimate, more erotic and certainly more fulfilling. It was also more dangerous, more guilt ridden and harder to comprehend or understand. For what Mel and Gordon were doing was making love and, for a brother and a sister, that was taboo by society's standards.

Mel had been with a few guys since losing her virginity six months ago, but none had properly satisfied her. She hadn't had a full orgasm with any of them and after most shags she either, masturbated herself when she got home or they left or, she went into the loo to finish off what the guy had started. 

That worried her. It was natural that it should. After all, teenage girls are brought up to assume that when they start having sex, the orgasms will flow as easily, naturally and as regularly as the tides in the English Channel. But not having orgasms with her lovers did not worry her as much as what was in her mind later, when she made herself cum. For when she lay on her bed or, when she sat on the seat in a loo, her hands on her breasts and between her legs it was her brother Gordon that was in her mind. It was his mouth sucking her nipples, his tongue licking her clit and it was his cock that fucked her to orgasms of such magnificent proportions.

After Gordon had led her to the bedroom naked, sat her on the bed and then had undressed before her, she had cuddled him. Cuddled his hips, pulled him against her, and pressed herself against him. Pulled his erection against her face and pressed her cheek against his flat belly. They had remained like that for some time, Gordon's fingers running through Mel's hair and massaging her scalp. They both felt good, they both felt more comfortable with each other and they both felt hugely excited as the realisation that, at last, they were about to give vent to their deepest and most intimate feelings struck home.

Mel had had oral sex twice, both times with the same boy. She had given him her first blow job. He had cum in her mouth and not, as he had promised, taken his dick out before ejaculating. He had asked her to swallow, but she refused and spat his cum out onto a tissue. It hadn't been pleasant, enjoyable, exciting or sexually satisfying. It had been a mess. She hadn't liked it.

But with her brother's warm, smooth, throbbing and so hard penis rubbing against her face, she wanted to make oral love to him. She wanted to lick him and suck him, to taste him and to take him deep into her mouth. Yes, with Gordon she wanted him to cum in her mouth and she wanted to swallow his sperm.

Mel eased her face away from her brother's body, She held him in both hands. She looked up at him and smiled.

"I want to make love to you Gordy," she whispered.

"Yes, Mel, yes my darling," he answered, not realising she meant oral love.

Mel's tongue snaked out and, although very limited in experience, she did what her womanly instincts suggested. She licked the length of her brother's cock then wrapped her lips around it and slid it deep into her mouth. Before he hardly knew what was happening Mel was sliding him in and out of her mouth, she was having oral sex with him, giving him a blow job; yes his sister was fucking him with her mouth and by Christ did that feel good. 

But that was not what he wanted. That sort of thing was for later, not for their first time.

"No Mel, no, stop," he groaned extricating his penis from her mouth.

"What?" She asked genuinely surprised, but also worried. "Was it no good, was I terrible?"

Smiling, Gordon ran his fingertips across her cheek and lips.

"No silly, you were marvellous."

He sat beside her. He slid one arm round her shoulders and cupped her small breast with his hand on the other.

"I want us to make full and proper love Mel. This first time, I want to be deep inside you, I want us to be together, to be one and, in any case, if I hadn't stopped you I would have cum too soon."

He pushed her backwards as he muttered. "And darling there will be plenty of time for that and for me to do that to you."

"Oh good," was all that Mel could think of saying or, indeed had time to say before her brother's mouth closed over hers. 

They rolled onto the bed. They kissed as they laid on one side then the other, they kissed as Gordy rolled her on top of him and then as he was on top of her. Their tongues delved deep into the others mouth, they licked and sucked and kissed. They ground their lips and writhed their mouths together as he squashed his erection into the softness of her tummy and pressed his length against the hardness of her pubic bone. Their kissing became deeper, more urgent and more demanding as he wiggled himself down a little, as his cock slid down her tummy, as it slithered between her thighs. Without thinking she opened them. They still kissed and loved the others mouth and lips as the tip of his cock nuzzled against her slightly open, and totally soaked lips. 

"Yes," moaned from Mel's mouth as she felt her brother's cock against her most intimate place. It was as if he was asking permission to enter her, to penetrate her, to go inside her and to fuck her.

Gordon was so excited. The smoothness of his sister's slim, angular body, her small tits that were crushed against his chest, her slender wide open legs which she had drawn up and was wrapping round his hips and, of course, her warm wetness that he was pushing the tip of his achingly hard cock against. It was all so mesmerically wonderful for him.

"Oh darling," he moaned, "I have wanted to do this for so long."

"So have I, Gordy, so have I."

Gordon brushed one set of fingers across his sister's face as he slid his other hand down her body and wiggled it between her and the bed. He gripped the nicely rounded cheek of her bum, letting his forefinger slide just inside her crease.

"Are you ready Mel? Are you ready to make love with me?"

"Oh yes Gordy, oh yes, yes yes."

Gordon lifted his face up a little so he could look into his sister's eyes. They gazed at each other, adoringly.

"Are you certain, my love?"

"Yes darling, yes I am, more certain than I have ever been of anything," Mel said, not quite truthfully for, of course, she had some doubts. That's natural isn't it, when a girl's about to get fucked by her brother?

Holding her gaze Gordon whispered. 

"Good, thank you my love," as slowly he eased his hips forward.

That feeling for both of them as the bulbous head eased the lips open and secured its entrance to the woman was, as usual, wonderful. Mel grunted and Gordon sighed. He held himself just inside her for a moment or two, considerately letting her get used to him. Slowly, he then slid himself further and further inside his sher, deeper and deeper until he was up her to the hilt of his penis. Gordy held himself there.

"Ok?" He whispered.

"Perfect," Mel replied feeling so marvellously full.

Her heart was beating, she was so excited, it was happening at last, she was being made love to by the one man she truly loved.

Gordy was very experienced. He was a good lover. He was patient, considerate and creative, yet very aware of his partner's needs. He knew that if he fulfilled them, then his would be more fully fulfilled as well. He was always thoughtful as well. Rarely did he shag a girl, or a boy come to that, without some sort of plan. Without perhaps being aggressive, adventurous, lengthy, quick or using a variety of positions. He would think that out during foreplay so when it came to fuck, he knew what he was going to do, he had a plan, he was in control: that was important to him.

So, when suddenly he started pumping himself in and out of his sister in a spontaneous and completely unplanned way, he was surprised. He was as equally surprised when, after perhaps no more than a dozen or so thrusts he could feel himself readying to cum.

But it didn't matter from Mel's perspective. For, from almost the moment her brother's cock had entered her, she had at last realised what real sex was all about.

"Oh God. Oh God," she moaned thrashing her head from side to side. "Oh yes Gordy, yes, yes," she groaned, her fingernails running harshly down his back and gripping the lustrous flesh on the cheeks of his bum.

That only made Gordon thrust harder, plunge deeper, pump faster and fuck his sister more energetically.

It wasn't technically a great fuck. But for both of them it was an amazingly thrilling one. They clung to each other, Mel gripping Gordy's arse, Gordy running his hands all over his sister's thin, almost scrawny, body, as he slammed himself up and down inside her.

Mel was on an enormous high. She was having her first real orgasm and, coincidentally, only her second shag without being high on dope. High on sex is so much better than high on dope, her mind, now befuddled by sex, was telling her as her climax exploded.

Feeling the tension in her body, hearing her deep moans and sighs and having her fingernails digging into his back as he made his sister cum so powerfully, sent Gordon completely over the top.

"Oh fuck, oh yes, oh fucking hell yes," he groaned as his cock seemed to explode. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming Mel."

"Yes, yes my darling, cum for me, cum in me."

And then they both felt the effects of his explosion. He felt his cock spewing his sperm and she felt it splattering inside her.

It went on longer than any sexual climax Mel had experienced and Gordy didn't feel the need he usually did to extricate himself from his lover as soon as possible after orgasm. They lay, still joined together, in each others arms as his erection subsided, as he became soft and his flaccid cock slid out his sister's cunt.

Chapter 2

The flight to San Diego was odd: interesting, quite exciting in a number of ways, but definitely odd. It was the atmosphere between them that made it like that; well not really the atmosphere, more the tripartite sexual feelings of each of them. 

Mike wanted both of them, but his vow about not mixing business and pleasure had, just about so far, stopped him. Sammi fancied both of them, but her reticence to give into her bi desires with her boss and her reluctance to get mixed up with a man with a long-term partner had stopped her, again though, just about. Emma, though, didn't really fancy either of them, well not in the ways they both fancied her. But then, she never really fancied anyone. She might want someone and when she did she usually had them, but that was for her own ends, not something as ridiculous, as she thought of it, as sexual desire; that could be satisfied quite well with your own hand or one of the myriad of toys she now had.

They flew BA business class. Sammi had been hoping for first, as she knew Emma always flew when going to the Middle East, but this was being paid for by Mike's new venture and that was still in the investment stage and not the profitability forecast for the second year. Business was fine though. They had the three seats in the middle of the cabin with Mike, at Emma's suggestion sitting between them.

"You be the filling in the sandwich of two women Mike," she had said rubbing her hand somewhat possessively, Sammi thought, along the consultant's upper arm.

It was quite warm and Mike was wearing a dark blue shirt and no jacket with, sand coloured chinos and tan loafers without socks. Both women thought he looked great and very sexy. 

Sammi was wearing tight, classy, pale blue jeans, a simple white top with spaghetti straps and a beige, linen jacket.  Emma was wearing white cotton trousers and a yellow, low cut, tee shirt type of top with a thin, cashmere, loose weave shawl over that. Both women's trousers were fashionably tight across their butts. Emma's were almost see through showing, a little too obviously Sammi thought, that she was wearing either, a thong or, as Sammi suspected, nothing under it. Emma would occasionally pull the shawl around her, thus covering up her breasts. Somehow, though, it kept falling away, so that most of the time her spectacular chest and cleavage was on view. Sammi was less overtly showing out, for her white top was not tight. However, when she stretched or bent it was strained and the front would be stretched across her chest, showing the outline of her lacy bra and the small tits inside them. The top ended at her waist leaving a fashionable band of bare flesh between that and the waistband of her jeans. If her front view was staggering, then that from the rear was awesome; it even had the, probably gay, male cabin staff staring. She was wearing trendy, low-rise jeans; jeans with a waist that encircled her slim, but womanly rounded middle, quite low down, in fact frighteningly near to her pubic line at the front and the start of the crack of her arse at the back. The jeans could not have been tighter for they clung like a second skin to the delicious twin orbs of her mid-twenty year old's bum. As she walked, the gorgeous, rhythmic wobbling of the two mounds were like magnets to men's and some women's eyes. And of course that included both Mike and Emma.

Neither had seen Sammi's tits or arse. Neither had seen her naked. Neither had touched or kissed her, stroked or caressed, or sucked or licked her. And, of course, neither had fucked her, yet. But, Emma had decided, that might well change on this trip.


They were going to San Diego for their, almost final, training in the revolutionary type of treatment, intereactionary neuroses therapy (INT), in which Mike's new clinic was going to specialise. It would be only the third clinic in the world to offer this highly specialised treatment for sexual disorder and sexually dysfunctional people.

Mike was a psychiatrist, one of Europe's leading in the field of helping people, mostly females, overcome sexual malfunctions. He was of the Freudian school and had always used the psychoanalysis approach of long and patient questioning, gradually taking the patient back to the trauma that had caused the neuroses. Once that had been identified, there was even more patience as he and the client discussed how their mind could be released from the problem. That could take ages, years sometimes and frequently they were never fully released. Thus, some women never came to terms with sex with their husbands, often because of an event earlier in their life: near rape, severe pain when having sex early on or abuse by a parent, usually, but not always, the father. 

Also many women were troubled by their feelings, they felt guilt and remorse. Guilt about wanting sex, about being aroused, having "dirty" thoughts or fantasies or wanting "too much" sex. Also far more, than is often acknowledged, women of all ages also suffer tremendous difficulties about their inquisitiveness about sex with other women. Mike had seen studies that indicated that almost half the female population had either, had some form of sexual involvement with another woman or, wanted to. Other studies were even more extreme. They claimed that as high as 75% would be interested in some form of intimacy with another woman. It was hardly surprising then, that treating women who could not handle this problem, was the bulk of Mike's case load.

In recent years, the number of cases had increased significantly and, for some reason that the medical profession was carefully researching, the psychoanalysis time and then the reversal period had increased by over 30%. This had given impetus to other research. Research that was trying to develop a new method of opening up the patient's mind, making them more receptive, making them identify the cause earlier and come to terms with the remedy of the problem more quickly.

The team in San Diego had found what looked to be the answer. That was using medical professionals to role-play with the patients. That, together with medically administered, quite light drugs, brought the cause of the neurosis to the forefront of their consciousnesses. 

Sammi and Emma were on their way to learn how to do that. How to work with those people, how to bring them out, open up their minds, their consciousness and their receptiveness? Yes, the women were going to San Diego to finish their training in how to have sex with mostly other women, as Mike observed.

Chapter 3

Roni was in a bad way. Naked, her arse burning like hell from being beaten she had started to cum.

"Oh God," she moaned struggling against Preston who was holding her wrists, keeping her bent over a chair.

"Shut up," he snarled, pressing his bare, erect cock against her face.

"I can't, I can't" she groaned wiggling her substantial arse at Craig who was now, surprisingly, being gentle and stroking her. 

He was also naked. Both men were naked: naked and hugely erect. Erect because they got their kicks from hurting women. Hurting them by, amongst other things, spanking them, as they had Roni.

She felt Craig press his cock against her bum. It hurt, but it excited her. She felt his fingers between her legs, on her pussy, in her wetness and around her slit.

"Fuck me Preston, the slut is soaked," the younger guy said, shoving the length of his erection along the crease in Roni's arse.

"She does get wet, but then slags do don't they?"

"Especially fat ones like her."

Roni half hated hearing such expressions about her, but then the abuse and demeaning also gave her some kicks. She'd been in some bizarre situations with her older, actor friend Preston: he had taken her to a party and had "given" her to a friend and had then watched as the friend fucked her, he had made her wear clothes that hardly covered her body and taken her into crowded places, he had fingered her to an orgasm in a restaurant and in a cab and he had taken her dogging, where several guys shot their loads over her as she masturbated on the front seat of a car.

This latest episode, though, was in some ways the most outrageous. She had arrived at his flat as ordered, to find him and another younger, quite good looking guy waiting for her. They were both wearing silk dressing gowns. They had abused her, hurt her, made her bend over, ripped the buttons off her blouse and had torn the net panties Preston had ordered her to wear. They had then spanked her with a paddle, their hands, a cane and a riding crop. Her bum was covered in red blotches and wheals. She had never been spanked before. It hurt, badly, it burned and it stung. But then amazingly it changed. Sure, the ache was still there, but along with that there was another, deeper, more fulfilling, almost a spiritual feeling. She couldn't understand it and didn't try; she simply gave into her bodily desires and let herself cum.

By now, both guys were naked with their hard cocks swinging around as they moved. Roni had assumed that one, or both, would shag her or, at least, make her suck them, but they hadn't; they hadn't even asked her to touch their cocks. She didn't understand it. Now, being totally demeaned and degraded, she had assumed that her role would be as their plaything, their slut, their slave, almost, to do with as they pleased. That they asked for nothing confused her, as they let her lie on the floor on her side, her bum being far too inflamed to sit on.

Suddenly it all became clear. The confusion was lifted, she saw the reason, she understood the situation, she got the plot when Craig stood alongside Preston, dangled his arm down and took the hard cock in his hand. Preston did the same with Craig. 

Roni had never seen two guys together, well not doing anything to each other that is. She looked on in increasing amazement as they put their arms round each other, pressed their bodies together and then, to her utter astonishment, they kissed. As their mouths, met so they squirmed their cocks together and let their hands roam up and down the other's body until both pairs of hands were gripping the cheeks of their partner's bum. 




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 13



It was fascinating for Roni to see this and oddly, she found it hugely exciting. Her fingers found her ample breasts and she started caressing herself.

"Look at the slag," she heard Craig say.

She looked up and caught his eye as he was cupping Preston's balls.

"You enjoying this?" He asked, taking the older man's stubby penis in his hand and pumping it. "Are you?"

"Yes, yes Craig, I am," Roni replied truthfully, her hand now unashamedly caressing her boobs.

Preston was also, now, pumping Craig's longer and thinner cock.

"It makes you play with yourself does it?" Craig asked walking over to stand by where Roni was lying on the carpet, naked.

"Yes," she whimpered.

"Then play more," he went on as Preston joined him.

"How, what do you mean?"

"Get both of your big, fat tits in your hand."

Still laying half on her side Roni willingly did as she was asked. She cupped both of her breasts and pushed them together, squashed them, squeezed them and pinched and pulled her nipples.

"Open you legs, show us your cunt," Craig said, a little huskily Roni thought.

She now had a quandary. Her bum was aflame with pain and at the same time she had to play with her tits and open her legs wide. She tried doing that on her side, but couldn't. Both of the guys were now kneeling, side by side, next to her.

"Get on your back, you fat cow," Preston snarled reaching over and pushing her by her shoulder.

"Hold on" Craig said getting up. "Both of you stay right there."

He walked out of the room and returned quite quickly, he was holding a plastic bottle. In a voice that was remarkable to Roni for its gentleness he said.

"Lay on your front."

The feel of the cool lotion on her bum was wonderful. It was only matched by the tender touch of Craig's fingers as he smoothed the cream into her skin, lingering around the crease of her arse and the back vee of her pussy lips. He took her by the shoulders, gently.

"Easy, Roni, easy," he said, helping her turn, firstly, onto her side then slowly onto her back. He looked into her eye as he added. "Not too bad now?"

She was continually being surprised by the afternoon's events. 

"No, no it isn't Craig, thank you."

"Good then suck this," he grunted pushing his cock right against her face. It was almost a relief, nearly a gesture of thanks as Roni held the proffered cock, pulled it towards her, horizontal to the ground and licked its length. Preston moved round to her other side and, as Roni, firstly licked, then took Craig's cock into her mouth, he reached over and cradled Craig's balls. Although concentrating more on pleasuring the younger guy, Roni reached up and held and stroked Preston. He pushed himself against her hand. Craig reached down and grabbed her tits; he also found Preston's balls, Preston leaned over Roni and kissed Craig with what Roni could clearly see was an open mouth and probing tongue.

They were pressing themselves against each other, Craig was moving in Roni's mouth, he was starting to fuck her face. She and Craig were wanking Preston and both mens' hands were stimulating Roni on her tits and nipples and between her legs. She had, as she had been ordered by Craig, showed them her cunt. She was laying there her legs wide open. Although it was difficult for them to reach, both men were touching her, stroking her lips, pressing her clit and shoving their fingers up her cunt.

She could tell that Craig was near. Women who frequently give blow jobs always know that. She could feel the tenseness in his body from where her hand was gripping one of the cheeks of his arse, she could hear the intakes of breath and his deeper breathing. Most of all, though, she could feel the increased throbbing in her mouth as the engorged cock pulsated as even more blood pumped into it. 

Her hand told her that Preston was also near and her cunt told her that she was as well.

And then it all happened. 

Suddenly, Craig was gushing into her mouth, Preston was spewing his cum onto her face and she was grinding herself onto the fingers that were deep in her body as she climaxed.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 14



And so we roll on finding out more and more about our stars, the uniform and how clothing can influence and enhance sexual activity.

Regular readers can probably skip the rest of this intro, newcomers need to read it and, preferably, some of the earlier parts. But then, hey, that's up to you.

This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny for me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.

We are now well into the story. So a lot of water has flown under the bridge, along with lots of steamy scenes between the amazing set of characters. 

In an ideal world, a new reader to this story would start at the beginning and read Part 1 first. We aren't in a real world though are we? So, as the story jumps around from character to character and fuck to fuck, I thought a brief synopsis here might be helpful.

The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.

The two main female characters are Sammi and Emma, the male lead is Mike. Sammi is a blonde, twenty five year old, beautiful nurse. Emma is in her early forties, she is awesomely good looking with dark, olive skin and absolutely gorgeous, full, heavily nippled breasts. She runs an agency that supplies nurses to hospitals throughout the Middle East and to upmarket clinics in the UK. Mike, a psychiatrist and one of the leading sexual therapists in the UK runs one of those clinics and he employed Sammi though Emma's agency. That is how they go to know each other.

A main theme running through the stories is will they or won't they? Will Mike shag Sammi, who he fantasises about as he has sex with his long-term partner? Will Emma seduce Mike, or Sammi, and will Sammi and Emma get it on?

At the same time, Ronni, Sammi's flat mate, has a series of dogging, forced sex and other extreme 

adventures with her older actor lover and sleeps with Sammi. Claire, Mike's live in lover, seduces his partner, as she has previously his brother and one of his financial backers, even wearing her barristers, black silks and wig, and nothing else apart from black hold-ups to do that. Sammi's great friend Mel has a secret that is being revealed as she and her brother Gordy embark on the ultimate taboo. And Emma's continuously more intriguing role with the Saudi Arabian Al Korensi, family is examined as she sleeps with both the father and his two sons and acts as their whore and the business fixer.

See what I mean about being complicated?

This part is about one topic and two characters, bisexuality and Emma and Sammi.

*

Chapter 1

It was early afternoon when they landed in San Diego after an easy and quite enjoyable flight. They were staying at the Pacific Terrace Hotel, just north of the city closer to La Jolla, and the limousine that Mike had ordered, quickly whisked them up the freeway. As he was having a number of meetings and conducting some interviews at the hotel, he had a suite on the lower ground floor looking out onto the beach. Sammi and Emma shared a two bed-roomed suite on the ground floor. 

After they checked in they all went to the girl's suite and stood looking out over the pool.

"Now that really does look inviting," Emma said.

"Yes it's been ages since I've been in the sun," Sammi chimed in as they stood in the fair sized lounge. "Not like you two lucky buggers."

"What about Barbados?" Mike asked.

"That was ages ago, or seems it."

"Anyway I have loads of calls to make, a meeting at five and I might meet Brad for dinner."

"Oooo get you," Emma explained, "The real tycoon aren't you?"

"Oh fuck off," Mike smiled playfully pushing Emma who stumbled against Sammi. She held her arms out and for a moment the two women stood there holding each other, their breasts almost touching.

"I think we'll be alright alone,....... together, don't you Sam?" Emma asked quietly her eyes lingering on the younger woman, her hands resting on her slim hips.

Sammi felt a surge of feelings. The pang of want, which Emma had intended. Mike stood transfixed; he was absorbed. He had felt that there might be something between them, for he knew that Emma was bi; the threesome in Saudi with the two Thai girls had joined proved that.

"Er, right, I might as well check my suite and get on then," he said being pretty much ignored by the girls as he left their suite his erection growing.

"Well," Sammi said, "which room do you want to sleep in Em?"

Emma had wanted to get Sammi by herself for some time, but circumstances had prevented that. She was determined to have her, control her and dominate her; to make Sammi dependent on her. She had big plans for the nurse. She needed a successor, Sammi was who Emma had chosen to take her place as the whore to the Al Korensi family. 

Emma looked deep into Sammi's green eyes. She didn't move away, her fingers were still resting on Sammi's bare arm, her full breasts just inches from the younger woman's far smaller tits. She smiled and said softly as she pressed her fingers against Sammi's wrist.

"How about yours Sammi?"

"Erm what, um, how do you mean?" The very flustered blonde stammered.

Smiling even more broadly, Emma replied.

"Just joking," as she leaned forward and brushed her lips across Sammi's cheek. "Nice thought though. Come on let's unpack, you take that one." She nodded towards the door behind Sammi. 

After the trip to Heathrow, the seemingly endless tedium of passing through security, despite the club class fast track, the ten hour flight, the, equally endless tedium of the US immigration, the ride to the hotel and the eight hour time difference they were both tired and agreed on an early night.

"How about a quick shower, swimsuit and hit the pool?" Emma said when they had breakfast at 5.30 the next morning, the jet lag messing up their sleep patterns.

Sammi agreed, knowing that they had nothing arranged until the evening.

She had been flustered when she had unpacked the previous afternoon.

There wasn't that much to put away for it was a short three day trip and during the training she would wearing her nurse's uniform. Not the new one, that was not ready yet, but the tight white coat one, the one under which she now pretty much all the time just wore hold-up stockings and a bra. Knowing that, in all probability, during the training, where the parts of patients would be played by actors, that she would be undressing, Sammi had, at Emma's suggestion, brought a fairly wide range of underwear with her. So there were panties of various types: thongs, shorts, French and full, matching bras, most of which were flimsy and diaphanous, in a range of colours from white, through several pastel shades to black. There was even a deep red set, which Emma had got for her, saying as she handed it to Sammi the day before the trip.

"Some people have a fetish for that sort of colour and," she had paused looking right into Sammi's eyes, "you'll look lovely in it."

Sammi hadn't replied as she stood there holding the red bra, thong and suspender belt in her hand. Emma, still smiling and still also holding the lingerie, had gone on here eyes twinkling. "You'll have to model it for me some time."

All this flew through Sammi's mind as she unpacked the red stuff.

Emma had been turning the heat up on her for some time. Sammi was aware of that, in fact she quite enjoyed it, but then what girl with a bi side to her would not? Emma was gorgeous, successful, sophisticated and quite open with her desires. Sammi guessed, though not being that experienced with other women and never having really been "pulled", and particularly not by a much older woman, she wasn't sure, that Emma was bi. 

"But then," she had thought to herself, "what sexually adventurous female wasn't nowadays?"

What she found most odd, though, was that over the past few months as the pair of them had worked more closely together, Emma had not really pushed it. Sammi knew full well that if she had, then she would sleep with her, but Emma seemed to get very near, then pull away. It frustrated Sammi. She was a much more straightforward person then the older woman; to her black was black, whereas to Emma it was merely another shade of grey. To Sammi, if you wanted something, you either had it or, if you couldn't get it, you forgot about it. As with modern youth, most things for her were now, instant, for the moment. Emma, being older, more business-minded, more sophisticated and with some Serbian blood in her from her great grandmother, was a manipulator. Everything was negotiable, you can have whatever you want, it's all up for grabs, at a price, and she had the patience of an expert arbitrator. 

Whilst Sammi was inclined towards casual sex with Emma, Emma wanted more than that from her. Emma wanted total devotion, adoration, almost full on love. She wanted to have Sammi completely and utterly dependent on her. She wanted Sammi to become her total submissive.

For years, Emma had worked for the Al Korensis; an immensely wealthy Saudi family very close to the King and a number of Princes. The Sheikh had helped make her nursing employment agency hugely successful by putting all his recruitment through it. At the time, the family operated five hospitals in Saudi, were expanding rapidly and recruited around a thousand nurses a year. That had made Emma rich, and all she had to do in return was fuck the Sheikh when she visited Saudi and when he was in London. 

Over the years, her involvement with the family had grown. She had helped the Sheikh on numerous acquisitions and other negotiations by "cosying up" to his business opponents and gaining valuable information that he used to secure better deals. In return, he pushed more and more business through La Crème, including putting all the doctors and ancillary staff on its payroll as well as all the nurses. This provided the agency with a multi million pound turnover and a safe and solid as a rock 20% profit margin. She had played a key part in the deal involving Mike's new venture by bringing in some German money from a right bastard of a financier called Korlen Günter. A complete sadist, he had hurt Emma by both beating her and raping her arse with a huge dildo. The fee for finding him, though, made those minor inconveniences well worth while, she felt. 

Emma had provided other favours to the family over the years; the main being, educating the Sheiks two sons, Ahmad and Sunni, in the ways of sex with Western women. She had, as with everything she takes on, done that well, so well in fact that now she was being fucked by both of them as well as their father. 

Now in her early forties, Emma was acutely aware she was getting too old for that side of her occupation. Too old for being both the family's whore and fucking their business contacts, and for fucking the two brothers and dad. Both parts of her job spec called for a more youthful persona and that was precisely where Emma knew Sammi would come into the picture; it was that for which she was grooming the young nurse.

Sammi was totally unaware of Emma's intentions for her, although she did feel that Emma fancied her and wanted to have sex with her, a thought that was quite appealing. Sammi had been playing around as a lipstick les or, as Emma termed her, a dolly dyke, for some time, but had only had real sex with a few girls. Well not real sex really for she had not received or given oral sex with any of the girls and with Roni, who she had been with twice, they had kept their panties on.

She heard a knock on her door as she got out of the shower before the breakfast had been delivered.

"Hi Sam, are you decent?" Emma called out as Sammi came out of the bathroom holding a big, white fluffy towel round her. The older woman was in Sammi's bedroom. She gazed at her. "Mmmmm yes you are decent aren't you?" Emma said smiling, her gaze running up and down the young blonde's body behind the towel.

Emma was wearing a shorty, white, silk dressing gown tied at the waist. It had lapels that plunged down across and over her breasts displaying her awesome cleavage outside the material and the fullness of her great tits inside it. The hem was mid thigh and, or so it seemed to Sammi, she was showing masses of tanned, toned and lithe bare flesh. Looking at the swells of Emma's breasts and the lengths of her legs made Sammi shiver slightly, she could feel the goose bumps starting on her own flesh.

"Have you got any of that cream stuff that sort of melts your pubes, I completely forgot to do my bikini line before I came away?" Emma asked Sammi.

"Er no sorry I haven't."

"Fuck, I'll just have to trim them with scissors then won't I? I won't be a tick."

About fifteen minutes later they were both ready for the pool. Sammi was wearing a yellow bikini with an almost thong type pair of panties, Emma a white miniscule bra, that really hid little of her breasts and a pair of black panties that were cut fashionably high at the waist. Both girls were wearing thin, sun dresses, Sammi's was white and Emma's black and white, neither hid that much, but were, just about, opaque..

"You look lovely, Sammi," Emma said as they stood in the lounge about to go.

"Thanks Emma, so do you."

"I don't have your youth, though darling," she said moving closer as she added, "or your gorgeous slimness," as she took Sammi's hand.

Sammi gulped. She was close enough to Emma to be able to smell her strong perfume, see the outline and slight mound of her nipples inside the tiny bra and almost, it seemed, hear the pounding of her heart. It was happening again. Emma was doing it to her again. She seemed to be able to do it to her so easily. Surely she was aware of the effect she has on me? Sammi often thought. 

The two women stared at each other for a moment or two.

Emma was still holding Sammi's hand. She was doing that on purpose. She was also softly rubbing the palm of the girl's hand with the tip of her finger. She could see the effect she was having. She knew she was arousing Sammi, that was planned, it was exactly what she wanted to do.

"Come on darling let's go." She suddenly announced turning towards the main door and pulling Sam with her.

Emma knew exactly what she was doing, why she was doing it and what she would do next. She always did, her planning was impeccable, her attention to detail total. She foresaw every eventuality, never left anything to chance and covered all angles. Her plan today was to keep on arousing Sammi, taking her to a new level each time, raising her hopes, expectations and receptiveness and then slipping away. Well most of the time, but then one of her advances might well not stop; she wasn't quite sure.

At the almost deserted pool, Emma asked Sammi to put sun lotion on her back. 

Sammi sat on the edge of the recliner where Emma was laying on her front. She poured some of the oil onto Emma's back, mid-way between the waist of the bikini and the bra strap, right on the other woman's spine. Just as she went to start rubbing it in Emma said.

"Hold on a sec, luv," as she reached round her back with both hands and unclipped her bra. She looked over her shoulder at Sammi and went on. "Don't want the oil on my bra do we?"

Sammi had watched with rising excitement as Emma had undone the clasp on the bra and had let the strap fall away from her. She had gazed with even greater rising excitement when her boss had turned to look at her. That had meant that Emma had to raise and turn her body. And that, of course, had meant that most of her breast was revealed to Sammi's eyes. 

Emma was, naturally, aware of what she was doing, what Sammi would be seeing and how the young woman would be feeling. She moved her leg a tad so that the outside of it pressed against Sammi's hip. She kept her body turned, her breast half bare as she went on.

"Do I Sammi?"

That jolted her out of her reverie, nudged her to stop looking and urged her to stop the lurid thoughts going through her mind.

"What? Er no, no of course not."

Rubbing the oil into Emma's back ranked alongside anything that Sammi had ever done for sheer sensuality. The feel of the older woman's skin, the smoothness of the oil, the softness of the flesh and the gracefulness of the curves of Emma's back all combined into one amazingly sensual experience. The movement of her hands up towards the rounded shoulder, across the back and slightly down the sides, near to where the start of Emma's full breasts were now squashed firmly against the bed, sent shivers through the youngster. These were even more pronounced when Sammi slid her hands downwards through the small of Emma's back into her waist and then up the flare of those gorgeously rounded hips and the deliciously full cheeks of her bum. 

The feelings for Emma were equally wonderful. Although this was all calculated on her part, as indeed was nearly everything she did sexually, she still got pleasure from sex. She got it equally from hetero as she did from bi sex, but seducing a woman probably ranked as her most pleasurable activity.

And having such an attractive and sexy young woman as Sammi rub oil into her gave her considerable pleasure. Almost as much as when Sammi had "oiled her up" and Emma had said.

"My turn, er no I mean your turn now Sam."

Sammi was lying on her front. As Emma had said that, Sammi had glanced to the side and saw her standing up holding her undone bra against her breasts, just about covering them as she edged herself onto Sammi's sunbed. Emma perched on the side of it as Sammi had earlier. 

"Keep still," the older woman said her fingers going straight to the younger woman's bra and quickly undoing it. That sent a jolt of sensations through Sammi. Not just because her bra was undone, the sides of her boobs were on show and her back was naked, but also because of the way that Emma had taken control. The way she had assumed she could do that and that Sammi would not object. The way she could dominate Sammi and the way that the blonde would submit to her. And she was absolutely correct with her thinking.

The hands sliding up and down her back were sublime. Sammi closed her eyes and simply gave into the wondrous feelings surging through her. It was like the feelings she'd had with Birgitte, but about a hundred times more powerful. 

Emma really turned it on. She knew this was a key moment. She knew what Sam would be feeling as her hands slid near the waistband of the panties, as they glided up the smooth, slender inner thighs going so close to the patch of material covering the young girl's pussy, as they massaged the outer edges of the cheeks of Sammi's delicious bum and the sides of her small beasts. And she was right. Sammi felt exactly what Emma wanted her to feel and Emma knew that.

But as canny as Emma was at knowing when to turn the temperature up, she was equally adept at knowing when to stop. She knew exactly the right time so that her quarry would be left yearning for more.

Abruptly, Emma stopped. She lay down on her lounger on her back; her undone bra draped across her boobs and pretended to doze off. 

Later they swam, the only ones in the pool. They frolicked like two kids, giggling as they swam round.

"Come on luv," Emma said standing beside the pool, leaning forward and offering her hand to Sammi as the blonde struggled up the slippery ladder.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 14



"Oh fuck," Sammi thought looking up and seeing Emma's breasts almost bursting out from the tiny bra. 

She took the offered hand and let Emma help her up. Emma didn't move when Sammi stepped onto the poolside. Momentarily the two women faced each, their hands clasped, their dripping, scantily clad bodies just inches apart. Emma parted her lips, slightly, she raised her other hand and pushed her wet hair back from her face, the movement stretching the thin material of the white bra, which at such a close range was as good as see-through. She ran her tongue along her top lip as she squeezed the younger woman's hand.

"Maybe time to go?" she said huskily, looking deeply into Sammi's eyes. "Back to our room, er rooms."

"Yes," Sammi replied, not quite sure what her boss exactly meant.

"Right come on then, shall we undress here?" Emma asked

"What? What do you mean?"

"Get our wet suits off in one of the cabins of course and dry off?" Emma said smiling. "What else could I mean Sammi?"

"No of course, sorry. My dress is a bit see-through though."

"Mmmmm nice, we'll have a treat then won't we?"

"I couldn't walk through the hotel in that," Sammi said.

Again, Emma quickly changed the mood. She knew that switching from being real come on to being slightly distant would confuse her young prey, keep her on her toes and make sure she didn't really know what was happening. 

"Oh well it's up to you, put your sun-dress on over your wet suit, I don't mind, but I'm not." Emma said turning and walking over to their loungers, picking up her stuff and striding over to the changing rooms. She went into one of the cubicles each of which had narrow swing doors that covered the changers from their shoulders to their knees and slipped her stuff off. She was the only one in there. That is until Sammi came in.

"So you're going to change then?" Emma called out."

"Yes, but I'll wrap a towel round me, I think."

"Is yours dry?" Emma asked.

"Fairly yes," Sam replied going into the cubicle across the narrow corridor from Emma.

Sam had her back to the door and was drying her foot when she heard the door of her cubicle creak. Having removed her wet swimsuit and being naked, she panicked as she turned.

"Here's a dry one," Emma said holding out a towel.

Slightly relieved that it was not a stranger, the panic quickly went, only to be replaced by something else. Excitement. Emma was just wearing the panties of her swim suit. Her gorgeously full breasts seemed to be staring at the younger woman.

"I thought you might need it," Emma continued, her eyes, quite unashamedly running up and down Sammi's body.

"Oh right, yes, thanks Emma," Sammi stammered as she took the towel.

Emma smiled and said. "Turn round, let my dry your back."

"No, it's ok," was Sammi's instinctive reply.

Emma smiled. "Go on you might even enjoy it," she added suggestively, knowing full well that she would only be tempting the girl, not trying to fuck her, that would come later.

However, when the blonde compliantly turned her back, and Emma looked at her slim nudity and, as she had described it to Sunni, absolutely fabulous arse; she was sorely tempted to do something now. Sammi's heart was pounding as she stood there, her head bowed a little. She was expecting, half hoping, that her boss would touch her intimately, stroke her, caress her or cup her breasts. Her body was on fire. She was thinking of the times with Roni, the experience in Ibiza with Birgitte and the brief moments with other girls when they had kissed and tentatively touched each other. 

She still hadn't "gone all the way". She hadn't had full oral sex with a woman and certainly the mysteries of dildos, strap-ons and the like were precisely that, mysteries. But she felt ready. Not necessarily for the murkier side of bi sex where the girls fucked each other with latex instruments, but certainly for fuller sex with another female. And most particularly for that with Emma. She felt under her spell, in her control and completely ready to be fucked by her.

Emma's closeness, the smell of her, the feel of her fingers on her back, her hand through the towel and the occasional touch of her knee on the back of her legs, were agonising. Agonisingly exciting, agonisingly suggestive and agonisingly inviting. 

"Oh why don't' I have the nerve to ask her? Why can't I just say, Emma, please make love to me?"

Sammi had no answers to those questions other than knowing she wouldn't and couldn't do that.

They had lunch in the suite. They were both unusually hungry due to the jet lag so they ordered steaks and salads, with raspberries for desert and a bottle of Californian Chablis. Their messed up body clocks gave the Chablis far greater strength than it would normally possess. They were both a little tipsy after just a glass each. They giggled more, they cracked jokes and they touched each others wrist or arm and where they were sitting on a sofa side by side watching TV their legs pressed against each other.

After returning from the pool Emma had said.

"Lunch in the suite and an afternoon snooze, ok with you Sam?"

"Yeah fine, I don't mind. We won't have to get dressed then will we?" Sammi replied innocently.

"Mmmmm sounds wonderful Sam, naked dining."

Sammi laughed. "You know what I mean."

Sammi saw that Emma had taken that almost literally when she came into lounge where Sammi was sitting. She was wearing a long, yellow tee shirt dress, which was low-cut at the neck and ended at mid thigh. From the way her breasts moved under it Sammi was sure there was no bra. And when Emma bent forward to get a bottle of wine from the fridge stretching the material of the tee across her bum there was no VPL at all, not even the outline of a thong. Sammi had slipped into a pair of short shorts and a tee shirt and she was also not wearing a bra. But then modest 34 Bs with average sized, light pink nipples can get away with it: 36 Ds with fiercely dark, round and big nipples can't. 

And those round and big nipples were evident much of the time through the thin material of the tee shirt dress. Evident to Emma, for that was on purpose, evident to Sammi, for she was why Emma was dressed like that and evident to the waiter who brought the meal trolley.

They had sat on the sofa to indulge themselves in eating and watching TV. Emma had sat closer than necessary. Sammi didn't mind, but still she could not work out how much of the apparent come on from the other woman was really that and how much was her imagination and wishful thinking. If only there was some way she could tell for sure?

She wasn't sure, when the shoulder strap of Emma's dress slipped off one side and she didn't adjust it. She also wasn't sure when Emma leaned forward and Sammi saw right down her front, her eyes for the second, or was it third, time today seeing Emma's full breasts and large nipples. The frequency with which Emma touched her arm or wrist, seemingly to emphasise points, hinted that something was about to happen, but not for certain. The older woman's leg pressed against the younger woman's knee did give indications, but were not conclusive. As they stood up to go to their bedrooms for their planned afternoon snooze, Sammi was unsure but felt it might happen. As they rose at exactly the same time and stood for a moment or two close together her heart was pounding, her pulses were racing, her nipples were hardening and her pussy was seeping. But still she wasn't sure, she couldn't be, nothing conclusive had happened.

Emma looked at her. She looked right into the younger woman's eyes. She looked at the very clear indentations of Sammi's nipples that were thrusting against the thin fabric of the tee shirt. She could guess what was going through her young friend's mind. She knew about the doubt, the concern, the confusion, the hope, the excitement, the guilt and the desire that would be seducees felt. She had experienced them herself once and had made many others over the years also experience them.

Sammi was almost trembling, she had goose bumps of excitement and her mind was whirring due to the conflict and confusion; due to the excitement and due to being unsure. But as Emma didn't move, as she continued staring into Sammi's eyes and as she smiled slightly, so Sammi's uncertainty lessened. As Emma stepped back a little holding Sammi's gaze, her full breasts jiggling wonderfully inside the tee shirt dress, so Sammi's expectations rose. She didn't become sure, but felt it was a little more likely to happen when Emma said, very softly.

"You look very beautiful like that Sammi."

Sammi didn't reply. She couldn't; she simply stood looking at the older woman, hoping and wishing, although still she wasn't sure.

She still wasn't sure when she saw Emma's hands slide down her body and loosely take hold of the hem of the tee shirt dress. Her uncertainty wasn't completely abated when Emma said.

"So beautiful and so utterly desirable," as she started to pull the dress up her body.

It was not fully dissipated even when she saw the hem slide onto Emma's stomach revealing her trimmed bush of very dark pubic hairs.

But, as Emma lifted the dress all the way up her body, slid it over her head, dropped it on the floor and standing gloriously naked, said. "I want you so much Sammi," then she was sure.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 15



Following very hard on the heels of Part 14, this doesn't really need any introduction. I would, though, urge anyone that is reading this as the first of my storied to flip back a few. That way you will find out 'who's who.' If you have time for nothing else, please read the intro to the previous part, No 14.

*

Chapter 1

Clare, Mike's long term, live in partner was working. She was in court acting for the plaintiffs in a complicated breach of contract case. In her job as a barrister, she didn't actually go into court much. Most of her work was done in chambers or in the offices of her, usually, big corporation clients. So for her, it was a thrill to take part in the cut and thrust of courtroom, negotiating and pleading.

It wasn't just the intellectual challenge that gave her the buzz. It was also the being centre stage, in the spotlight, on show and centre of attention. Clare was a show off. She liked people looking at her. Had she not have chosen law she could just as happily been an actor, but then, she often thought smiling, good courtroom lawyers are actors.

British barristers are odd. They have to be self-employed, they cannot be briefed by members of the public, they are the breeding grounds for all British judges and they dress up when in court. They wear wigs and gowns. And that was something else that Clare really enjoyed.

Standing across the floor of the courtroom from her legal adversary she was wearing her uniform.

Short, pleated, blonde wig; black robe, more like a cloak; crisp white shirt with a cutaway, starched winged collar; tightish black skirt, black hosiery and black shoes. 

Standing with her briefing book in her hand she was making a complicated speech to the judge and the defendant's council. Her gaze wandering from one middle aged man to the other, she smiled frequently and, although not overtly using her womanly wiles, she was, to an extent flirting with them. 

She was wondering what they were thinking, not about the case, but about her. Were they mentally undressing me, wondering what my tits looked like, what underwear I am wearing and what it would be like to fuck me?

"Yes my Lord," she replied to a query from the judge. "My learned colleague and I fully discussed that and agreed a remedy outside court.

"Thank Ms Richards, that's fine," he replied, actually not wondering what it would be like to fuck her, but to spank her, that was more his thing.

Clare continued with her long dissertation on a complex piece of EU law that would be imposed on the UK by Brussels next year. She was standing with her right foot slightly in front of the other. Her back leg was straight; the forward one was bent slightly at the knee. Her right hand rested on her right thigh. Her fingers of that hand found the clasp of the suspender that was holding up her black stocking. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, hardly perceptively the deep red, almost crimson painted nail of her forefinger rotated on the lump beneath her black skirt. It may have been slow, it may have been hardly perceptive, but Sir Nigel Fellens, the opposing council saw it. He noticed, he knew what she was doing and he guessed, probably correctly, what Clare was wearing under her austere to some, but erotic to others, legal uniform.

They had been in chambers together before Nigel took silk and became a QC. Although they were never a number, they had slept with each other a few times and he knew about Clare's penchant for glamorous, outrageous even, erotic underwear. He had, when she was his fuckbuddy when his wife was pregnant, even bought her some stuff, risking the embarrassment of going into an Anne Summers to buy her some crutch less panties and a waspie.

And he was right. As part of the buzz, part of being on show, part of being the centre of attention and part of being an overt exhibitionist, she was wearing a black thong, a black suspender belt and a white diaphanous bra that gave her big tits the support she needed, but hid little of their precious cargoes.

Clare was a big girl. Five feet ten, just over one hundred and fifty pounds, she was big featured big boned and big titted. She had a big arse and long legs and although undoubtedly a real BBW, everything was in proportion, so most men found her appealing. 

And she put it about it quite a bit

She and Mike had a fairly open relationship in that they were both free to have affairs, and they both did. Clare, though had this need, almost, and certainly a habit to seduce any man that was close to Mike. As a result she had slept with his brother, an ex business partner and was currently having an affair with Sir Bernard. He had been Mike's professor at college, was an eminent psychiatry academic on a world-wide scale and had recently agreed to be Medical Director of the new clinic; a real coup for the venture and Mike. He was also a clothes fetishist, loving to have women dress up for him or dress him up, particularly in ladies panties and stockings.

So Clare had dressed in her sexy underwear, not just because she was centre stage in the hearing, but also because Bernard had a small flat just off Chancery Lane, which was close to the Law Courts. As soon as this session, which she knew would end by lunchtime, was finished, she was going to that flat. And when she got there, she would pose for him and he would pose for her as they took photos of each other with a digital camera. They would take, maybe, a hundred or so, perhaps more, just depending on how things went. They would then download them onto a laptop, link that up to a forty-two inch plasma that was fixed to the wall in his bedroom and as that was in film show mode they would fuck each others brains out as they watched themselves on screen: a great outlet for her exhibitionistic tendencies.

Now taking photos can be dangerous if you fall out. Both Clare and Bernard were quite experienced sexual adventurers and they realised that. So no copies were ever made, the photos were downloaded onto a memory stick and were erased immediately they had finished. No trace, no record, no incriminating evidence, hence no worries and no hassle. It also meant they could be as adventurous and uninhibited as they liked.

Although in his early fifties, to Clare's mid-thirties, Bernard was an attractive man. He was slim and fit with a full head of grey hair, a good body and a great cock. He was one of those lucky men that were naturally well endowed and those nearly nine inches of thick flesh had served him well with women over the years, although for the past few years his wife had tired of it: hence a string of mistresses and now Clare.

Clare had an arse that men who are turned on by slightly larger rears, adored. And Bernard was one of those; he had always loved and gone for rather bigger women. His big cock and her big arse had provided them with hours of sexual pleasure and that they would do this afternoon.

It had been Clare's first husband, she'd had two and Mike as a longer-term, five years, live in lover, who had first photographed her. He had persuaded her to pose in her underwear, topless and naked. He had cajoled her into touching herself, using toys and making herself cum as he recorded everything on film, at the start. Yes, it was her first husband, Barry a hairdresser who had unleashed Clare's exhibitionistic tendencies.

The first photographic session happened when Clare and Barry had been married about three years. She was 23 and had just left law school; he was 38 and ran three hair dressing salons. She was hugely inexperienced having been with only three men before Barry. Barry was quite the opposite and shagged, or tried to, pretty much any attractive woman he met. That was before and during their short marriage.

Their marriage was in trouble; they both knew it. After all, when a new bride catches her husband having flings twice in the first couple of years of marriage, there's bound to be trouble. After the second time they hardly spoke for a while and had no sex for over a month. As the atmosphere improved a little Barry suggested taking the photos.

"It'll spark things up luv, you'll enjoy, I'm sure."

The idea of stripping off and being photographed was not abhorrent, but had no appeal for Clare; it was just not the sort of thing she did.

But Barry persisted. He even bought some "top shelf" magazines that he left for Clare to look at. She did and was amazed. The girls were so attractive, the costumes, mainly underwear, were lovely and everything was done so well. She wasn't quite turned on by looking at them, women never had been her thing, but they did intrigue and excite her a little; they made her heart beat a little quicker, for she imagined herself being in their positions.

After several rows and a load of pressure from Barry, she eventually agreed.

He set up some lights he had hired in their bedroom: at the time, they lived in a big flat in south London. Clare had drunk two large glasses of red wine, she was slightly tipsy, but the booze had done its trick; her inhibitions had been lowered. 

He took a few of her fully dressed, some with her blouse undone and then a number as she removed her jeans. She had, at Barry's suggestion, worn a thong, with holdup stockings, high heels and a skimpy, well for a pair of DD boobs it was, bra. She kept her blouse on and sat and stood as he shot her from a variety of angles. He then told her to take her blouse off and took photos as she sat then laid on the bed. 

"Ok Clare, now take your bra off, show me your luscious tits."

That phrase not only seemed to hit her like a sledgehammer, it also seemed to waken something inside her. So, as she reached behind her for the clasp, as she unclipped her bra, as she slid each strap from her shoulders and as, almost like a stripper, she eased the cups away from her breasts, she felt something else apart from the embarrassment and shyness she had been feeling. Something excited her; something turned her on something, made her pulses race and her flesh tingle. Something made her nipples harden, her breasts feel so heavy and her clit tingle. Something made her female juices start to flow. Something, that she could hardly believe, as her husband took shot after shot of her in just her panties and stockings, made her start to cum.

Barry saw that, he witnessed the effect the camera had on his wife. He expected it, he was pretty certain it would happen, it nearly always did. With practically all the women and the girls from his salons he had persuaded to pose for him, it happened. The camera seduced them and then he fucked them. And that was exactly what happened with Clare.

And that was why she became addicted to Barry's camera, why she let him, over the next year and almost right up until they parted, take photographs of her. It was also why she let him slowly persuade her to pose naked, to spread her legs, to touch herself, to put her fingers up her pussy, to use a vibrator and other toys and to let him shoot her as she gave herself orgasms. It was the combination of the enormous buzz as the camera became her lover and the lens the enormous cock she so yearned for, and the awesome sex they had during and after each session, that was the appeal to her. But, and she didn't realise this at the time, it was also the latent exhibitionist in her that Barry was awakening, which was the major turn on.

"Kneel on all fours, your head resting on your arms, your face turned towards the camera. Now turn your bum a bit, open your legs wider and lift yourself up more, so those great big tits hang down straight," Bernard was saying after they had been in the flat half hour or so. "I'll put it on timer, then come up behind you and fuck you doggy style, as our friend records it. Ok?"

"Mmmmm, yes," Clare said adopting the pose Bernard had prescribed.

Chapter 2

Emma was gentle. She was tender, patient and caring. She was considerate, sensitive and loving. She was also adventurous and dominant when she at last fucked Sammi. As Emma lifted the thin dress up her body and discarded it on the floor, saying how much she wanted Sammi, the blonde was captivated. There were no doubts, no concerns and little hesitation in her accepting that she was, at last, going to be had by her boss.

Emma had a fabulous body. She was a little taller than Sammi, around 5 feet seven, and weighed just under one hundred and forty pounds. She had full hips, womanly hips, child bearing, as Abdullah al Korensi had once described them: Arabs liked their women to be a little voluptuous. Her legs were not overly long, but were shapely with nicely tapered calf muscles, trim ankles and lithe thighs, although she felt they were slightly chunky. Her bum was gorgeous, some had called it a "black girl's bum" for it stuck out more than most and had superbly rounded cheeks. It was a bum that men adored, pampered, played with and, for the lucky few, fucked. Her stomach was flat with taught muscles, having never been stretched by childbirth. Being of Balkans descent she had a slightly olive skin, which was smooth and soft to the touch. She had a lovely face with almond shaped, brown eyes that were blessed by naturally long lashes and a slightly oversized mouth. Her lips were full with a delightful cupids bow look to them. Both the top and bottom lips were quite thick and were magical to kiss and even more so to be sucked by. Her pert nose, well-defined cheekbones, high forehead, squarish chin and the full main of dark hair finished off her beauty.

As near perfect, highly erotic and pleasant to look at, as all of that was, her crowning glory, or glories really, were her spectacular breasts. They were very round, they burst out from her chest a long way and, even at her forty three years, were still pert and had little sag. They were capped by dark aureole and sizeable nipples that were hyper sensitive. They weren't massive, just an ample C, going on D cup, it was their round fullness that gave them their spectacular appearance, both clothed and naked.

"You do want us to make love, don't you Sammi?" She said, her eyes glinting as she saw the look of awe on the younger woman's face.

Sammi had never been propositioned, never been seduced and had never been pulled by another woman. But she was now experiencing all of those things.

Emma had been building up the tension, tightening the seduction, increasing the sexual pressure for several months now. She badly wanted Sammi. Not only sexually, but also to possess her. She wanted her to be her successor as the Al Khorensi family whore. She had been fucking the old man, the dad, the Sheikh for over fifteen years now and his two sons for five. She also performed other sexual favours for them. Bedding potential business partners, easing deals, finding out information and getting men to do things in a few weeks that would, without her letting them shag her or her giving them a blow job, have taken months.

It had made Emma hugely wealthy, but her advancing years were against her. Both with the Sheik's two sons, Ahmad and Sunni, and with many of the clients and business contacts. Sure, for twenty year olds the prospect of fucking an "older woman" was a huge attraction. But for thirty to sixty year olds the pleasure of sweet, taught skin and firm, tight cunts far outweighed the experience of the fading attractions of forty somethings. So she needed a successor and had chosen Sammi as that. But to get her to do what she wanted, Emma had to dominate and control the younger woman. And she planned to do that by making Sammi so sexually dependent on her that the young blonde would be only too pleased to do whatever Emma wanted. 

And the start point for that, Emma had decided, was right here and now in the sitting room of their suite in the hotel.

She looked right into Sammi's eyes as slowly she cupped her own breasts and whispered.

"You do, don't you Sammi?"

Sammi did. She wanted Emma to make love to her. She had wanted that for nearly all the time they had worked together, getting on for a year now. She had wanted to be made love to by Emma ever since she had started to feel that the older woman, liked her, was interested in sex with other women. Sammi was totally bi and gained equal pleasure from sex with men as she did from women, although her action with them had been more kissing and groping than full on sex. Whilst she had "been to bed" with three different girls, with two of them they had been one offs and with Ronni, her flat mate, they had had sex twice. She had flirted, kissed, groped and been groped by several girls at clubs and parties, but was still to experience oral sex, either giving or receiving. Her lesbian orgasms to date had all been finger induced. As she watched the naked Emma caressing her own beautiful breasts, she had a strong feeling that shortly it would be something else that would provide her orgasm. Yes, she felt sure, as Emma moved closer to her that the tongue she could see poking out from the parted, crimson lips would soon be parting her other pinker lips

"Yes, Emma," she whispered, her eyes roaming over her bosses body as the older woman's arms pulled her against it.

Emma looked deep into Sammi's eyes as she moved her face nearer and nearer. Sammi could see Emma's black eye liner, her eyelashes, the lip gloss even the tiny hairs on her face. And she could smell the combination of Emma's perfume, her hair spray and her musky feminine arousal. That thrilled her and, as the older woman's mouth closed onto hers, she shuddered with the thought that she, little Sammi, the young nurse was making the sexual juices of the experienced Emma, run. 

The kiss was fabulous; it was soft, gentle and knowing. Emma took it slowly. She was patient, she didn't rush Sammi. She made sure that the young inexperienced girl was comfortable with each stage before making the next advance. She kissed her with closed lips before opening her mouth. She rotated her parted lips on Sammi's before slipping her tongue inside. She waited for Sammi to respond with her tongue before gently taking the tip of that between her teeth and then sucking it into her own mouth. She let Sammi become tuned to that before placing her top lip between Sammi's lips and her bottom one beneath Sammi's bottom one and then sucking on that, sucking Sammi's bottom lip right into her mouth. Hearing the low moan as the blonde was captivated by the kissing; Emma repeated the sucking on Sammi's upper lip and then repeated that on her lower lips and, once more, her tongue. She took the blonde's upper lip, then her lower one between her teeth. In turn, she gently nibbled each lip with her teeth whilst, she licked it with her tongue. Including having a cock in there, that was the most erotic thing that had ever been done to the young woman's mouth; it almost made Sammi cum.

She was ravishing Sammi with her kissing, almost orally raping the younger woman, although nothing was forced and everything was accepted willingly by both women.

Sammi was blown away. Nobody, not male or female, had ever kissed her like this before. But then that wasn't surprising for it was unlikely that she had ever been with such an expert kisser as Emma. Sammi tried giving something back, but each time she did, this amazing woman "moved the goalposts." It made the younger woman realise just how naïve she was about kissing. It also made her incredibly excited and aroused. And still, Sammi suddenly realised, Emma had not touched her or even undressed her. Emma was naked, Sammi was wearing a tee and shorts, although she was not wearing a bra so the breasts of the older woman had been squashing against hers.

"And Sammi," Emma whispered, that is what we are going to do my love. "We are going to have the most amazing sex."

They kissed again. This time Sammi was a little more adventurous with her hands, which until now had rested on Emma's back. Now, though, she slid them down and stroked the gorgeous roundness of the older woman's bum.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 15



"Mmmm, nice," Emma whispered adding, "That's lovely Sammi, thank you."

Emma as good as repeated the whole kissing routine of earlier. They must have been kissing for at least fifteen minutes standing in each others arms in the sitting room of the lounge.

But still Emma hadn't touched Sammi sexually, although she had manoeuvred the embracing pair of them towards the wall. She pushed Sammi against it. Squashed between the firmness of the wall and the arousing softness of her boss was a wonderful feeling. Having the support of the wall behind her, accentuated the softness of the other woman's body, the back and sides of which Sammi was now constantly caressing.

"I so want you, Sammi."

The words crashed into the youngster's mind.

"I want you Emma, I do."

"How much do you want me?"

"As much as I can possibly want anyone."

"Turn round Sammi."

"What, do what?"

"I said turn round, lean against the wall."

A little perplexed Sammi did as she was asked.

"That's right lean forward and support your self with your arms."

Sammi did as she was told, not asked this time she noted. She was not sure where this was going, but was hugely thrilled by the way that Emma was directing her and taking control: exactly what the more experienced woman wanted. She wanted to direct, control and dominate Sammi to the extent that she became dependent on her.

"Now stick your gorgeous little bum out Sammi" Emma ordered running her fingertips across each cheek still inside the short shorts. 

"And now my lovely, open your legs for Emma."

Sammi was now really wondering what the hell was going on and was hoping that Emma would do something to relieve the enormous feelings of want she had been built up in her. That was all part of the plan on Emma's part.

"Now she's going to take me," Sammi thought to herself as, obediently, she parted her legs.

She felt her tee shirt being lifted up her back. "It's now, it's happening, she thought."

But no, it wasn't, not yet. Emma had to exert more control by making Sammi wait. She knew that by so doing, when she eventually fucked Sammi, as she intended do many times this afternoon, she would have all the more control over her.

She carefully rolled the tee shirt right up Sammi's slim back bunching it round her shoulders, but not removing it and not, for some unfathomable reason to Sammi, baring the young woman's small tits. 

"All the more to savour later," Emma thought as she kissed Sammi's back. And how she kissed it. Kissed, licked, sucked and gently nibbled every part of it. She also used her hands softly stroking Sammi, caressing her, rubbing her and whispering.

"You are so beautiful."

"I want you so much."

"I am going to make the most amazing love to you."

"I am going to make you cum as you have never cum before," were some of the words that Emma used to further arouse her young quarry.

Sammi wasn't sure whether she was frustrated because Emma didn't do anything overtly sexual or, whether she was more aroused by the lips, tongue, teeth and fingers on her back.

When she felt something slightly different sliding over her skin and when it dawned on her just what it was, she knew for sure she was more aroused. Emma was running her bare tits over Sammi's back.

Emma was giving it everything she had. Not just because she wanted to captivate Sammi with her sexuality and impress her with her skill but, also because she was turned on. She really did want the young blonde and not just as a trophy fuck and as her replacement as the Al Khorensi family whore, but also because she was finding herself more and more attracted the her young assistant. Attracted to her golden hair that she would soon confirm was natural, her pretty face, good body and great arse and legs.

It was a lovely feeling for her to graze her nipples across Sammi's back and squash her tits against the smooth, cool skin. It was wonderful to have been kissing her prey for over half and hour now. It had been marvellous building up the tension, slowly arousing Sammi and priming her for the truly mega fuck that Emma had planned. But now it was time to do that.

Usually so cool and calculated, so planful, almost manipulative, Emma suddenly lost it. The normal slow, measured pace that she employed with her seducees and lovers, left her. It suddenly became imperative to move to the next stage, to take things forward and to have full sex with this gorgeous babe. Yes, getting Sammi naked, getting her in bed and fucking the arse off her quickly became paramount in Emma's mind.

Sammi felt the change of pace, the increased tension and urgency in Emma. She welcomed it, she wanted it, she needed it. She felt her shorts being undone, the zip being pushed down and the material being peeled away from her as Emma slid them down her legs and off her feet.

Emma gazed at the gorgeous sight for a moment or two savouring the sheer beauty of Sammi's youthful body. Although to be absolutely truthful there was probably a little unwanted bulk on the girl's thighs and bottom, Sammi had a near perfect body, albeit of a slim and lithe style. There was no flab or fat anywhere, everything was tuned, fit and lithe. Her size 10, 33b 25 35 inch body made men drool as much as it was making Emma drool now. The slim back, the gorgeously rounded bum, the slender legs and now, as Emma lifted the front of the tee shirt up around Sammi's neck, the exquisite small, but perfectly formed, delicately pink tipped breasts were, Emma knew, hers for the having.

"Oh Sammi, you are so gorgeous," she groaned wrapping her body round Sammi's in an upright spoon position as her hands found the young breasts and squeezed and pinched. She pressed her, pubic mound right against the base of Sammi's spine, she ground against it and pulled hard on Sammi's tits.

Sammi was moaning and sighing, groaning with want and excitement and she was writhing her bottom against Emma's pleasure giving pubis.

"I'm being fucked," Sammi thought. "It's as though a man is fucking me from behind," she thought as one of Emma's so experienced fingers slid between the soaked, pink folds at the entry to her pussy, pushing them aside and expertly finding her clitoris. 

One hand on Sammi's breasts alternating between tit and tit and nipple and nipple, the other arousing her lover's clit, while she ground her pussy against Sammi's bum, Emma fucked her young assistant for the first of, what she knew would be, many, many times.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 16



We are nearing the end, just two more parts to go. To those of you who have read previous parts, thanks, to those that haven't I suggest you do.

*

Part 16

Chapter 1

The training went well. It was nowhere near as worrying, embarrassing or intrusive as Sammi, certainly and Emma, deep down, as well had thought it might be. As the course tutor explained, most of the patients treated by this method and, incidentally, by all sexual therapies, tended to be women; obviously men don't suffer as much from sexual traumas or, as is more likely the case, they don't seek treatment as much as women.

"So our need is greater for male personnel to help our female patients identify, relieve and then release themselves from the trauma that affects them.

As Sam looked across the room at Emma, the two other girls and six men on the course she could see the pleased looks on the men's faces at this news.

The, quite dishy, Sammi thought, Swedish lecturer, had been part of the team that had developed this revolutionary way of treating sexually dysfunctional individuals and, although now in his sixties, still exuded tremendous sex appeal as well as tremendous presence. He spoke perfect English, explained even the most complex points in easy to understand ways and held the mixed audiences' attention very well indeed.

The first two days were taken up with lectures on the theory behind the use of trained medical staff role-playing with patients the cause of their sexual problems. Obviously, they had both read a lot about it and Mike had provided extra information, but hearing it all afresh and by a trained lecturer helped a great deal. The other topic covered in depth in the first two days was the use of the light, nuerorelaxant drugs. Taking these, it was explained, was a bit like smoking strong marijuana whilst hypnotised! These drugs had to be administered by trained medical personnel for the dosage had to be spot on to achieve the desired effect. Obviously they would not be using the drugs on the actors who would be playing the roles of the patients on tomorrow's 'live' sessions, Gerd explained adding.

"But that is the only aspect of the treatment that will change. The work between each of you and the 'patients' will be exactly as it would and will be in the treatment rooms, including, of course as we insisted for the training, the presence of your consultant. You and he or she working closely together is absolutely critical to the success of this treatment method."

Near the end of the day's lecture, Gerd explained that they would not, of course be sitting in on each other's sessions "But here's a list of all the traumas together with the case notes we will be covering tomorrow," he explained. "You should all read, certainly the synopsis of each of the cases, and the detailed notes on the two that each of you will role-play."

It was a really strange situation. To be lying naked next to Emma having just had an hour of full on sex with her as she read about what she was going to do tomorrow, was very odd. Sammi read about the first role-play where she would be working with a male actor playing the part of a patient who lost his erection whenever a woman touched him. She had read the outline of Emma's first session and that was of a guy who could only have successful sex when he fantasised that it was his mother he was shagging. The notes on Sammi's role-play said that the drug would in real life, be able to take Brian, the forty two year old actor/patient, back to the root cause of this, which could very well be incest related.

"So Sammi," Emma said, propping herself up on her elbow with one hand supporting her head "We're both into incest then."

"Yes strange that isn't it?" Sammi replied her eyes drawn to Emma's right tit hanging down from the way her body was bent. It looked gorgeous. She couldn't resist reaching out and cupping it as Emma said.

"You ever been involved in anything like that? It's apparently, or so Mike tells me, far more common than is generally acknowledged."

"Really is it?" Sammi replied, not that interested in that news, but more so as to why and when Mike would have told Emma. "When did Mike tell you that?" She asked.

"Oh when we were in Saudi," Emma replied pushing her boob more firmly against Sammi's hand. "Why?"

"No reason."

"I do believe," Emma said coyly "That our little Sammi is jealous."

"Don't be daft."

"That's not daft; after all he's very tasty and clearly fancies you rotten."

"I think he's after you."

"No, he never mixes pleasure with business where sex is concerned."

"Really? How do you know that?"

"Never mind." Emma said sharply.

"No come on tell?" Sammi asked removing her hand from Emma's boob.

"You tell me first, have you fucked him?"

"No, honestly, I don't go with attached men, too messy."

"He's not that attached, he and Clare have a very open relationship. So have you tried?"

"Nope, but I take it you and he have."

"We came near, but we haven't shagged, honest. Anyway enough of him, let's do us."

Sammi's fingers felt good on her breast, Emma thought. In fact they felt very good. The older woman leaned forward and kissed the young blonde. God she felt so sweet, her lips were wonderful and kissing Sammi was such a turn on for the older, more experienced, bisexual Emma. Since she had first had sex with Sammi, (was it really just two days ago?) Emma had been amazed at her feelings. Always the one in control, always the director, the boss the predator in any relationship, she didn't really have feelings and emotions. She didn't get mentally involved with her male or female lovers, she 'had 'em and left 'em' was how it always was. But something different was happening with Sammi, her young assistant.

It was not like it should have been, not as Emma had planned it and her planning was always impeccable; her plans always worked perfectly. After all, she had built a hugely successful business supplying nurses and doctors from all over the world to hospitals in the Middle East, Europe and America. True, the explosive growth her relatively small nurses recruiting agency had undergone in the past ten years may have been due to the fact that she had become the mistress of a leading Saudi businessman, Sheikh Abdullah Al Korensi. True, shagging him whenever he came to London or she went to Saudi had helped and true, acting as his whore by sleeping with his business acquaintances to gain him advantages, hadn't hindered her business ambitions. As indeed providing sexual favours to other prospective clients had also contributed to her success. 

But the Sheikh was ailing. He was ageing rapidly, although still only in his early sixties, and was suffering from a number of illnesses. Although this didn't completely stop him needing sex when Emma was around, his desire had reduced considerably in the past few years. But as that had declined, he had replaced his desires for sex with Emma with the desires of his two sons, Sunni and Ahmed who were gradually taking control of the widely spread business empire. So, whilst Emma had only to shag Abdullah occasionally, she had to be far more active with the two sons who were both now in the early twenties. 

She had been having sex with them, both alone and as a threesome, for several years. In fact, Abdullah had asked her to take each of their virginities, even though Emma suspected that they had been gone some time before she first shagged each of them. But she was acutely aware that her appeal to them and their generation of younger business leaders who were gradually taking over the big family companies in the Middle East, which were the bedrock of Emma's business success, was waning. Alright, most young guys like an 'older woman' now and again, but a forty three old cannot be the successful industrial whore that she had once been. 

Sunni the older, by two days, son of Abdullah had the idea and funded the other business that Emma operated. Ahmad knew all about, but they kept it from the sheikh and they would deny if anything ever became public. That was a high-class call girl business for senior level businessmen, mainly in Saudi, where such things were so difficult to operate. As La Crème Saudi 'imported' hundreds of young women each year from all over the world, including Thailand, it was relatively easy to fix the paperwork for a few that were not nurses, but were hookers. And at first it was a few, but like topsy that just grew and grew until Emma was operating a hundred girls throughout the Arab world.

Although that was a great money-spinner and, at first, Emma had thought it might provide her successor, she soon realised it would need more than sexual ability.

And that is precisely where Sammi came into the equation. Emma was firstly going to make Sammi emotionally dependent upon her and then she was going to make the blonde her successor as the Al Khorensi family whore.

In her early twenties, blonde and gorgeous, with scrumptious little b cup tits, lovely legs and a fantastic arse, Sammi, a fully qualified nurse, had registered with La Crème, Emma's main business. Emma had been attracted to her immediately. At their very first meeting when Emma had the results of the battery of personality and other tests, she felt she had confirmed a key finding from them; Sammi was heavily bi curious and had either, dabbled with other girls or, was ready to do so. Emma guessed the former. The tests also indicated another key 'quality' that Emma sought in her successor. Sammi really had no sexual morals: standards maybe, but morals no.

She had placed Sammi with an eminent sexual therapist who was setting a new practice involved in the revolutionary new way of treating people with mental and emotional disorders, many or most of which, as Mr Feud taught us, are sexually based. The Al Khorensi family was providing most of the start up money for this venture.

Emma had got to know Mike well during the negotiations for she had introduced him to the Saudis. Mike, although in some ways being as sexually dysfunctional as many of his patients, for he had never had a successful long-term relationship and currently enjoyed an 'open partnership' with Clare with whom he had lived for the past three years, had made a vow never to mix business with pleasure. In his business, that meant not fucking the staff or the patients. And with his good looks, willowy, slim physique and the intimate nature of the relationships with both parties, that would have been so easy.

The train of events that had occurred from him meeting Emma, Emma meeting Sammi and then Mike meeting Sammi, had severely tested that vow. Despite fantasising about his young, blonde nurse to the extent that Clare had told him he had called out Sammi's name when he shagged her several times, he had resisted the enormous frustration and temptation. He hadn't physically mixed business with pleasure, although mentally he did all the time. But then when you have a gorgeous nurse working for you wearing the uniform supplied by La Crème that is almost inevitable.

Emma provided her, always attractive, nurses or, consultants' assistants as La Crème termed them, with a white coat. It was made from the finest Egyptian cotton and each was tailored for each girl; and on Emma's instructions, that meant tight. Many girls had to slim before they could get into her 'uniform.' Emma also supplied their underwear. A wispy, luxurious, wickedly flimsy bra, supplied by Lejaby and white, frilly topped hold ups from Wolford. Noticeably and indicatively there was no panties.

"We don't want any ugly VPLs do we?" she told her new employees as she handed them the uniform they had to wear.

When she had first started, Emma had quickly realised that she had to do more than merely supply nurses, particularly to her UK clients which were all private institutions. Few of them dealt with really serious stuff and the patients were rarely desperately ill with many of them travelling from the Middle East. 

She realised the erotic nature of the relationship between patient and nurse, she acknowledged the mystique of nurses and the allure of the nursing uniform. She recognised that in addition to medical assistance, she was also selling sex; and that was to both to the patients and the consultants. And that is why the uniforms of the La Crème girls were almost instant hard on outfits.

Emma got a mumbled no from Sammi to her question about incest. It was mumbled for Sammi's mouth was full. The young woman's lips were wrapped round one of the older woman's, almost, raspberry sized nipples.

Emma's breasts were awesome. Sammi, though not that experienced with other women, was captivated by them. She adored them and she had fallen in love with them. She revelled in their appearance and feel, their as good as perfect size, the touch of them on her fingers or lips and the way that Emma slightly shuddered and sighed when Sammi squeezed or sucked them as she was now. And as she sucked Emma's nipple, so Sammi slid her hand between her lover's legs. Up from her knee, onto the smooth thighs, which opened inviting her to go further.

Just those two days when she had seduced this young goddess. Then, she had led the way, made all the plays, directed and organised the action. She had been the predator, Sammi the quarry, she the leader, Sammi the follower, she the dominant one, Sammi the submissive, she one that did the fucking, Sammi the one that got fucked. And, most importantly, she was the one that kept her emotional reactions completely separate from the physical pleasures. Wasn't she? Wasn't that the case? It was supposed to be Sammi that got confused and combined them, Sammi that was unable to distinguish between them, Sammi that became emotionally dependent on Emma. Yes, it was Sammi who was supposed to come to rely on Emma, for it was through that dependence that Emma was planning to make Sammi her successor. Yes, her successor as both the lover to Abdullah and his two sons and her successor as the whore for that family.

But as Emma opened her slightly olive coloured, lithe thighs and gloried in the feelings that Sammi's mouth was giving her on her nipples and breasts, it was far from the older woman who was in charge. As Sammi's fingers slid effortlessly into Emma's open wetness so the younger woman began taking over. Her confidence growing amazingly quickly, Sammi's mouth found Emma's and she initiated a deep, long, squirmingly sensual kiss that was so similar to those those Emma had showered her with just two days ago; Sammi was a quick learner. And as she kissed her boss, her tongue led the dance they played inside the opened mouths, it was Sammi's little tits that writhed against Emma's full chest and it was the blonde who was directing the action and giving the pleasures. Yes somehow, Sammi was developing into the dominant one and Emma was submitting to her will.

"Oh yes Sammi, yes," she moaned, her arms going round the blonde's neck and pulling the lips tighter onto hers. "Harder, harder," she grunted thrusting herself against the pleasure giving fingers, "Deeper, deeper, oh fuck me yes, yes, yes," she screamed as Sammi made her cum.

That orgasm told Emma that Sammi would never be dependent on her, just as the young blonde, like Emma, would never be dependent upon anyone, male or female.

Chapter 2

Roni was pregnant. She was making herself ill with worry. Not only was she a Catholic and the idea of an abortion seemed like the mortal sin the nuns had always said it was but, also she didn't know who was the father. 

Thinking back to when she thought she had conceived, she worked out that she had five lovers around that period and only one, Sammi, could be ruled out. Preston, the deviant arsehole who made her do the most grotesquely, wanton, but somehow pleasurable things. Karl, his toyboy who had spanked her and then made amazingly gentle love to her. Mark the producer who fucked her once a week or so keeping her hopes up on him finding her a juicy stage or film part. And Daren, the cameraman, on the TV soap she had been working on in a part that the casting agent had described as 'a plump girl going to seed', who she had a been having an 'on tour' fling with. Five lovers, just one the father.

Gordon had fled. He was a coward at heart and couldn't face bad news. So he had transferred a stack of money to the Swiss account his father had set up for him some years ago, put his flat on the market giving a friend who was an estate agent the 'power of attorney' and had simply disappeared. There were rumours that he had gone to Peru or Argentina, places he had visited many times, but some friends guessed that Thailand, Cambodia or Laos with their very relaxed attitudes towards sex, were more obvious. No one knew though, for he didn't confide in anyone, he never had. He was only close to one person so, when he got the bad news there was no one to turn to. There was nobody that he could discuss things with, not a soul that he could get counselling from. There wasn't a person in the world he could talk to about his sister, his lover, his Mel, Sammi's best friend, who had overdosed and died from a cocktail of drugs.

How it happened, they had no idea. The first inkling Clare, Mike's live in lover, had was when she picked up the phone one Friday evening.

"Is that Clare Richards?" A male voice asked

"Yes, who's calling please?"

The voice named a leading UK tabloid newspaper. That didn't strike her as too unusual for some of her work was quite high profile and occasionally she was asked for quotes for the press. What happened next, though, was as unusual as it was worrying, in other words it was fucking unusual and fucking worrying.

"We are planning to run a story on Sunday about how one of the country's leading psychiatrists and leading barrister meet in a flat in Chancery Lane and take porn photos of each other. Would you care to comment?"

At the same time a female voice was asking Sir Bernard the same question.

Abdullah died and the business empire and the family passed onto Sunni and Ahmad. Whilst Ahmad took both his family and business duties very seriously, Sunni went on a bender. He moved to LA, bought a mansion that made the Playboy one look like a cottage and lived a life based on the owner of that magazine. Emma never heard from him, but she did from Ahmad who treated her like he did the rest of his family, for in a way, his father's whore was part of the extended family which included Abdullah's six wives.

Clare and Mike parted. It had to happen when he found out how both she and Sir Bernard had cheated on him. Not that he was that precious about sexual monogamy, after all he wasn't and he had never expected it from Clare. But having such pictures of both his business and sexual partners splashed all over a tabloid paper ruined his new business venture. The prudish Swedes, who owned the rights to the interactionary neuroses therapy he was using in the new clinic, pulled the plug and curtailed his to license to use it

Chapter 3

Sammi was wearing the latest La Crème uniform, although officially she wasn't a nurse or, come to that wasn't employed by the agency. In fact, when she thought about it, since mid-day when Mike had taken the call from Gerd and had broken the terrible news to her and had said the clinic was finished, it was doubtful just who, if anyone, did employ her.

The purposefully old fashioned or, as Emma and her stylist described it 'retro', look of the uniform was not to everyone's taste, but it had been tried out on many focus groups of differing nationalities of both sexes and had gained overall positive ratings.

The black, dress, modelled on a Francis Nightingale, Crimean war look, brought up to date, was made from a material similar to taffeta. It had a squared halter neck that sliced vertically and horizontally across roughly the middle of the wearer's, in this case Sammi's, boobs. The neckline was trimmed with white lace that was about two centimetres deep. It was that which covered the wearer's nipples for the edge of the dress traversed the aureoles, just beneath the nipples. When the wearer bent forward there were some angles at which a keen looker-on would see the girl's pinkness; this would be more likely to happen if the nipples hardened for they would then push up the delicate lace and reveal the precious cargo it was hiding.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 16



The skirt was tight with a small, white apron. As with all the uniforms Emma had designed, it was almost impossibly tight, although the slight indentations and bumps of the taffeta material meant that VPLs wouldn't be seen. Thus, the black, silk thong with the see through pouch and the thin slither of lace that snaked between the girl's cheeks that she supplied, could be worn. Emma had learned that whilst going commando had its moments for most of her nurses and consultants, it shouldn't be a full time mode of dress as was the case with the 'white uniform.'

She also provided the girls with a bra. Made of the finest black net, it was smooth, just about covered the girl's breasts and provided the modicum of support that many needed, but hid nothing. Hence, Sammi's nipples could clearly be seen through it when she wasn't wearing the dress, but when she was, as she was now, the dress hid the pink mysteriously intriguing shadow of her aureoles but not their indentation, especially when they were agitated, as Sammi's were now.

Black, lacy-topped holdups were also supplied. Emma had toyed with going the whole hog and reverting to suspenders and stocking, but felt they would be too obvious and, too fiddly.

"So it looks like that's it Sammi," Mike said.

"Surely not," she replied standing in front of the small glass desk that held his mobile phone, laptop, blackberry and filofax. Mike considered large desks unnecessary for him and challenging to the patients. He was sunk back in a small, black leather chair, his elbow was resting on the desk supporting his head. He was ashen; he looked awful and felt worse.

"I'm afraid so, I can't practice without the INT licence, well at least not to the level I need to give the Saudi's and the German's their returns, so they won't provide the rest of the funding."

"Can't we use the old methods?" She asked.

"Yes of course, but that would never produce the profit level the whole deal has been worked on."

"So what's it all mean?" Sammi asked standing there feeling rather helpless.

They were in Mike's new consulting room at the Windsor clinic which had opened its doors to the first patients just two weeks ago. They had hardly got going, in fact Sammi hadn't even had to do anything with a patient yet.

"We'll have to close the business immediately."

"Why so soon?"

"My licence from the BPS is based on me practising using INT. No INT, no license, no clinic, no business. Bollocks."

"I see."

"Anyway, sod it, let's have a drink."

Sitting side by side on the low black couch nearly two bottles of wine later, things didn't seem so bad.

Mike had phoned Emma as the representative of the main backers the Al Khorensis and she said she would let them and the Germans know. 

"Is Sammi there?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Put her on then."

They talked for a few moments with Sammi mainly saying yes and ok and sure, Emma was clearly doing most of the talking, Mike saw.

"She wants to talk to you," the young blonde said, handing Mike the phone.

"Look Mike, don't worry too much, I know you have lost a lot, but I'm sure that between the Khorensis and me we can come up with something."

"What do you mean?"

"Well we need someone to run La Crème and a few other ventures I am involved in with the Saudis."

"I'm a fucking psychiatrist Emma, not a businessman."

"Yes Mike I am only too aware of that, but at present you are looking at being a bankrupt fucking psychiatrist isn't you? A wealthy businessman has some advantages over that you know."

"True, sorry."

"That's ok, don't worry."

Mike put the phone down and turned back towards where Sammi was sitting. He gulped. She always looked great, but in the tight uniform sitting on the low sofa, with the hem of her skirt having ridden up her legs so he could see the start of her stocking tops, she looked even more so. Why a glimpse of those, a flash of panties or a hint of a nipple is so alluring to men really is a mystery isn't it? And at the moment as Mike walked over to where she was sitting and looked down on his young nurse he could see two of those things. The almost immediate hardening of his knob told him that he desperately wanted to see the third.

There had always been a chemistry between them. Right from the first moment they met, when Sammi had knocked a cup of coffee over on the table in the reception of where he then worked, they had both felt it. Mike had imagined he was shagging her when he had sex with his ex Clare and Sammi had masturbated so many time when she lived in the flat with Roni, thinking that it was Mike's cock in her pussy and not her fingers or vibrator.

Roni had joked with her about it as had Emma, before she and Sammi had become a number. But there were reasons nothing happened. Mike's vow not to mix business with pleasure and certainly not to fuck the staff, and Sammi's distaste and aversion to getting involved with married or attached men. As he looked down at Sammi and as she looked up at him their minds were thinking similar thoughts. Clare has gone and Mike no longer employs Sammi. Mike is not attached and they are no longer business colleagues! 

Fucking Sammi would not be mixing business with pleasure and fucking Mike would not be harming a long-term relationship.



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 17



Part 17 'Some Unfinished Business'

The last but one part, the penultimate episode. 

I started this in September 2007 and 16 parts, 90000 words later we are nearing the end. Is there anyone who has been with me throughout this journey? Mad fools. If this is your first visit to 'the uniform' you can see you have missed a lot; it might be worth reading a few earlier parts.

Those who have been following the events unfold will know there are some relationships that haven't yet been fulfilled, yes there is some unfinished business to attend to.

Read on.

*

Chapter 1

It seemed so natural, but then it was natural. Kissing someone to whom you are attracted is natural. Kissing them lip squirmingly and tongue plungingly deeply is natural when you fancy them. And when you have worked with them and have lusted after them for a year it is natural to take them in your arms, kiss them long and passionately and grind your body against yours.

So at last, at long, long last Sammi and Mike kissed. They kissed deeply and passionately, they held each other in their arms and they ground their bodies together. Sammi's tits were squashed against Mike's chest; Mike's erection was pressed into Sammi's stomach.

"Someone might come, Mike," Sammi said as Mike pushed her back into the corner of the black leather settee, half-laying on top of her, half beside her.

"There's no one here, I sent them all home." Mike replied kissing Sammi again and pressing his hand on her breast through the material.

"What about the cleaners?" Sammi replied pressing herself against Mike's hand.

"It's too early for them, but just in case and to put your mind at rest." 

He got up, walked across the consulting room and locked the door. His erection, most obviously and to Sammi also most enticingly, bobbling against the thin material of his trousers, he returned to the settee. He sat beside where she was stretched out almost flat, took her hand in his, looked deeply into her eyes and whispered.

"Ok now?"

"Yes, Mike, I'm fine now," she replied, returning his stare and realising as she said it that she was effectively agreeing to have sex with him there and then.

"I have wanted to be with you like this from the moment I first saw you." He said tenderly.

"Yes, yes," Sammi said quickly the words rushing out of her mouth. "So have I Mike.

"I want you so very badly, Sammi, you do know that don't you?" He asked just before once more taking the blonde into his arms and kissing her deeply and very passionately.

It was a great, very meaningful and hugely instrumental kiss. It was a kiss that acknowledged to both of them that they were going to make love. Yes, a kiss that told them they were about to fuck. 

They were both so involved in the kiss: squelching their widely opened mouths together, squirming their lips, pushing their tongues into the other's mouth, crushing their bodies together and running their hands over their lover.

The short sleeves of Sammi's uniform were pushed down her arms.

Mike's shirt was opened.

Her breasts were squeezed outside her dress and his erection was rubbed outside his trousers.

Mike put his hand on Sammi's stocking covered knee. His heart was pounding with anticipation of what he was about see and feel as he moved it slowly upwards. That made Sammi's body tremble with the expectation of the sensations she would shortly receive. 

Over her knee, onto her upper leg his hand travelled as their mouths continued the wondrous kissing.

Sammi was kissing Mike back as hard as she could. She was trying to use her mouth, lips and tongue to transmit to him the messages her body wanted to communicate: I want you; I want you to undress me and fuck me. I want your hand up my skirt, I want your fingers in me, I want to be naked for you and have your mouth on my breasts, your fingers in my pussy.

Mike's hand reached that glorious place that older men so love and relish, but which few of those who were not sexually active before tights became popular have experienced: that patch of skin between her stocking tops and her panties. As his fingertips brushed across those amazing few inches and the side of his hand grazed against the gusset of her thong, Sammi's body indicated that it wanted her to transmit another message. This time, though she didn't need to use her kissing to indicate it. She didn't need to hint or imply, she didn't need to be subtle or coy. No, this message could be transmitted in a very different manner. Feeling his hardness on her fingers and hand inside his thin trousers was glorious. Sending the message that she wanted his cock was so easy and stirring for both her and him.

Mike had imagined this scene and, indeed, had masturbated thinking about it many times. Feeling Sammi's hand on his cock lived up to everything he had imagined. Her hand closed round the gorgeous bulge outside the material of his trousers while he pumped himself against it as his hand reached its destination, Sammi's panties.

The combination of having Mike's cock in her hand and his fingers touching her pussy lips through her thong, made her break her lips from his, gasp with pleasure, push herself against his fingers and let her thighs fall open. His fingers went straight to the soaked centre of the gusset. He pushed against it almost immediately finding her clit. That caused an explosion of sensations inside her. She felt a searing heat in her stomach and a huge tingling in her breasts. She rubbed his erection more firmly as his fingers pushed the material slightly inside her gaping lips. At the same time, seemingly effortlessly, his finger found her clit. He pressed it and sent an avalanche of feelings through her. Once again, Sammi thought how much more satisfying older men are thinking back to the numerous fingers that had searched through her folds to no avail: fucking kids, she thought pushing back against the finger, using her pussy to try to say 'well done and thanks Mike.'

Mike felt an overpowering need to look at Sammi. He lifted his head up and looked down. God what a sight greeted him. He had pushed her skirt up so it was bunched around her hips. Her legs were open, not splayed lewdly apart, but wide enough to provide his hand the access it needed to her most intimate place. Her long, shapely legs were encased in the black nylon. That ended about three inches from the top of her legs leaving that evocative patch of white skin between them and her panties, which were quite clearly very damp.

"You look amazing," he groaned watching his fingers slither inside the thong. He touched her warm wetness for the first time. Her body shuddered and Sammi groaned with a combination of pleasure, delight and want.

"Oh Mike," Sammi sighed, loving the touch of his fingers on her.

"I want you Sammi, now."

"Yes, Mike yes," Sammi sighed as usual finding the right words at such a time difficult to find.

With his spare hand, Mike started to undo his belt. Sammi sat up.

"Let me?" She asked.

With shaking fingers she undid his belt, then the button at waist of his trousers, then his zip. At the same time he began undoing the buttons on the front of her uniform. Sammi wiggled her hand inside Mike's trousers. She parted the folds of his shirt and slipped into his boxers as he undid the last of the buttons at the waist of her dress. Her tits were encased in an erotically flimsy, diaphanous bra that hid nothing. Her pert, pink nipples were clearly on show and were clearly very erect. Mike groaned at the sight of the younger woman's breasts and the feel of her hand on his bare hardness inside his boxers. 

Their eyes locked, he moved away and stood up, he undid his shirt, Sammi sat up and wiggled her dress down over the flare of her hips. Mike removed his shirt and trousers,

They didn't need to speak; their eyes said all that was necessary, their gaze told the other what they had to do.

Staring deeply into Mike's eyes, Sammi slid her arms behind her, a moments fumbling and they returned to her side holding the bra strap. A shrug or two of her shoulders and the thin shoulder strap slid down her arms.

Staring deeply into Sammi's eyes, Mike slid his hands inside the waistband of his boxers. A slight push and they had slipped down to beneath his hips, the front getting caught on his erection, making Sammi smile a little.

"How smooth eh? How to look a prat without even trying." Mike smiled. Nodding down to where his erection reared up covered by his boxers.

Sammi smiled back and leaning forward as she said. "Not a prat at all Mike, it looks lovely," as she lifted the material of his pants away from his erection, pulled them over the top of it and slid them down his legs. "In fact," she went on, her face just inches away from his rampant manhood. "It looks great."

Leaning forward as she was, it was easy for Mike to take hold of her bra straps and ease the garment away from her body. He put his hands on her head, his fingers going into her long, blonde tresses as he pushed her back. Further and further until once more she was reclined in the corner of the settee. His eyes roamed over her stocking covered legs, her thong covered pubis area and her bare breasts, particularly her bare breasts. Though only modest in size, they had an almost perfect roundness, no sag whatsoever, a delightful jiggle as she moved and gorgeously, coral pink nipples that were standing up so invitingly.

As Mike pushed her back on the settee, the coldness of the leather surprising her for a moment or two, Sammi's eyes were on what she had masturbated about many times, what she had visualised in her hand, against her stomach and inside her; Mike's cock. At last it was here, at last she had felt it, at last she was seeing it, at last it was going to be hers and at last it was going to fuck her.

Lying back, Sammi felt brave and confident, wanton and so incredibly aroused as she slipped her hands into the elasticised waist of her thong. Mike guessed what she was going to do so he simply stood watching, it was her show, he thought. Raising her bottom a little Sammi pushed her panties down until nearly her knee then, bending them and raising her legs, she slid them right off. It was quite a show for Mike. As she raised her knees, bent her legs and turned them so he saw what she had between them. Even in the dimmish light of the consulting room he could see her delicious pinkness, her encouraging wetness and the sublime attraction of her wet, open cunt.

He could wait no longer. 

Kneeling on the floor beside the low couch, he pushed Sammi's closed legs further onto the cushions, so that she was on her side. Her bum and pussy were hanging over the edge of the settee. Half turning the top part of her body so that part of her was on her back, her face welcomed his as they kissed. He squeezed her tits and pinched her nipples as she reached out for his erection. She stroked it lovingly and wondered whether he would go down on her or offer his cock to her mouth. But he didn't. This was not the time for long, languid foreplay that could come later; now, called for hard, raw dirty sex. So, instead, he raised one knee, so that one foot was on the floor. He leaned forward, causing Sammi to lose contact with his cock, which he then held as he moved it towards her pussy. He pressed it against her lips which were easily accessible between the rears of her thighs. And then, in a sort of 'on her side doggy fashion' he slid his cock into Sammi's waiting, available and so ready cunt.

She was a little surprised. She had thought there would be more foreplay, maybe a quick, small orgasm from his fingers or mouth, possibly a different position. As he surged up inside her giving those typically wonderful sensations of being filled, so, she thought, I have never been fucked in this position before.

Mike hadn't selected the position. It had just happened. It was a little awkward for, to get his angle of entry correct, he had to turn his body quite a bit and that isn't easy when kneeling on one knee. Nevertheless, he managed and thus, avoided the embarrassment of not being able to enter his new lover, as he had experienced in the past, but he realised, Sammi was so wet he could have slid in from any angle.

As it happened, it turned out to be a good position; well for Mike certainly. Not only did it seem to give him a deep penetration as entry from the rear usually does, but also they were able to kiss and he could get his hands to both of Sammi's breasts. For Sammi it wasn't quite so good from an involvement point of view. Being on her back, with her legs drawn up and turned and with Mike thrusting firmly and deeply into her, she couldn't move very much and thus couldn't touch him. But that was more than made up for by the deepness of his cock inside her, the ease with which he surged up and down, his tongue deep in her mouth and his hands all over her tits.

He had to keep moving his foot and knee to remain quite so far in her and to build up the pace whilst, at the same time continuing to kiss her. 

Deeper, faster and harder, he went with his thrusts.

She couldn't kiss him any more. It was hard for her to get her breath and she had to break their mouths apart.

She let a deep moan, it was almost animalistic, but it made her feel better as the sexual tension built up towards boiling point.

"Oh fuck Sammi, this is amazing," Mike moaned pressing and squeezing her boobs, his passion probably making that a little too hard.

"Oh yes Mike, yes," Sammi sighed back as her cunt seemed to explode with sensations. Her body was tingling everywhere. Her tits were on fire, her nipples about to burst. She was cumming and cumming very hard: every bit as hard as she had each time Mike had fucked her in her masturbations.

He could feel it starting. His balls tightened, his cock stiffened even more, he thrust as far into her as he could get and held himself there rigid. He clung to her, his mouth on her neck, kissing that, her hair falling all over his face, his hands squeezing her tits. She moaned deep and loud as her orgasm broke over her, now as good as oblivious to anything other than the extreme sensations roaring through her mind and body. 

He didn't know how much he shot, it didn't matter, who cared? A little or a lot have no indication, it was the feelings that count, both the physical sensations and the emotional outpouring. And on those measurements he scored very highly indeed.

Her on her back, his arms round her body, their eyes tightly clenched, their mouths open, Sammi's tits in Mike's hands his cock buried deeply inside her they enjoyed exactly what they each had hoped for, What both had dreamed about, what they needed and deserved, A hugely powerful mutual orgasm.

Chapter 2.

Mike had seen Emma's bare tits before, in fact he had seen her nearly naked and, in even more fact, he had seen her being given a climax. But he hadn't had sex with her, well technically, dependent on how you interpret the 'with', he may have done. Yes, may have had it with her, but they hadn't had sex with each other. Confused? Well join the club. 

"Was it really almost a year ago?" Mike wondered as, for the second time he saw Emma's glorious bare breasts. 

Then, he had been lying on the floor of her villa in the grounds of a hospital in Saudi.

Now, he was sitting in the living room of her house in Windlesham, Berkshire, England.

Then, he was with two Thai hookers who Emma had provided while she visited the ageing and ailing Sheikh Abdullah Al Khorensi.

Now it was just her and him.

Then, she had returned early and had joined in, but had respected, or taunted, Mike's determination not to have sex with business colleagues, for she was the go between the various parties involved in setting up the new clinic Mike was starting in Windsor, England.

Now, they had all the time in the world and, as the clinic had been forced to shut, they were no longer business colleagues.

Then, Emma had been wearing a long, floor length, baggy dress she wore to hide her curves, as demanded by Muslim custom.

Now, she was wearing a simple, grey, silk, knee length, wrap round dress with a tie at her waist.

Then, she had looked at the two girls then at Mike and, holding his gaze, she had lifted the dress up and over her head as she said "Can anyone join in?"

Now, she walked across the thick pile, cream carpet of the massive lounge with floor to ceiling windows on two sides and stood before Mike looking into his eyes. Slowly she undid the tie at her waist, saying quietly "Here's my, I am very sorry for the problem with the clinic present," as the horrendously expensive silk, designer dress fell open.

Then, she had been wearing nothing under the dress, having come almost straight from Abdullah's bed.

Now, she was wearing stunningly erotic Janet Regar underwear, worn especially for him.

Then, she had shown Mike her bi side by ordering one of her Thai whores to give her oral sex as Mike fucked that girl and sucked the other.

Now, she was showing Mike her straight side by seducing him.

Emma had been determined to have sex with Mike. Not just because usually, sooner or later, she had sex with most men, and some women, she met, mainly to give her power over them, but also because she genuinely did find Mike attractive and was immensely impressed by the way he had resisted her. Over the year or so they had known each other, she had offered herself to him several times. It had become almost a joke between them that he would not mix business with pleasure that way. 

Since the new venture had collapsed due to the scandal surrounding Mike's ex, long-term, live in lover, Clare and his eminent, medical director , Mike and Emma were no longer business colleagues, just as Mike and Sammi were no longer involved that way. And just as Mike and Sammi had shagged each other a couple of days ago in the new clinic, so Emma and Mike were now going to shag each other. In Emma's spectacular house, given to her by her Saudi partners.

He knew it, she knew it and they both knew the other knew it.

Immediately Emma had heard that the snooty Swedes who owned the licence to the new style of sexual therapy that was at heart of the new clinic, had rescinded Mike's right to use it and thus the business would go bust, she knew she would fuck Mike.

As soon as Mike had put the phone down to her after telling her about the licence and had agreed to "lunch at my apartment" after she had said "maybe there's a silver lining" he had known he would have sex with her.

And now, as Emma stood before where he was seated with her dress undone, her gorgeous breasts flimsily covered in a mid-grey, see-through bra that was cut deep across each orb only just about covering her stupendous nipples, they both knew it was going to happen right here and now. And it did.

Their fuck didn't have the tenderness of that between Mike and Sammi. It also didn't have the adventure of those between Emma and Sammi. What it did have though, was raw and dirty passion. There was no pretence at anything other than fulfilling their pent-up lust for each other. Emma had no idea what love was and only vague concepts of tenderness and caring. Mike had loved and lost so many time that he had given up on it and now simply sought sexual delight and erotic adventure with his women, both of which Emma offered 'in spades.'

"I knew we would fuck sooner or later," Emma said lifting up her leg and putting her high-heeled shoe covered foot on Mike's knee.

Mike smiled. "I thought you did."

"Didn't you?" She asked sipping the champagne she had poured earlier.

"Well I hoped so in some ways, but you knew my reservations."

"Yes and in many ways then, I am sorry we are going to fuck for that means we no longer work together doesn't it?" She said running the shiny, black patent leather toecap of her Jimmy Shoo shoe along the inside of Mike's thigh.




The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 17



"Yes Emma it does."

"Have you thought about what I said on the phone?" Emma asked as the sole of her shoe reached Mike's groin.

"Yes a little," he replied his fingers resting on Emma's slim, fishnet-stocking covered ankle.

"That is why I asked you here you know Mike?"

"What is?"

"To talk about 'where now'?" She replied her foot finding and pressing right on his bulge, which was rapidly growing.

He smiled at her as she slightly increased the pressure. "And here was I thinking it was because you wanted to fuck me?"

Emma smiled back, as she slid the dress off her shoulders and let it fall into a thousand pounds pile of haute couture by her feet. "You know me Mike, I'm a cake and eat it girl, so I want both."

"Well you no longer employ me and as it's unlikely you will in the future," Mike said, slipping her shoe off and replacing her nylon-covered foot between his now opened legs right on his erection, which was now obvious in the thin trousers; the same ones he realised he had been wearing when he had shagged Sammi. "You have had one, so now have the other.," Mike continued in a voice that was thick with want

His hardness under her foot felt great, she wiggled her toes sending nice sensations along Mike's cock.

"Unlikely? Why?"

"Because," he said smiling "I think I would rather fuck you Emma than work with you." As he said that, Mike ran his hand up the shapely calf muscle , round the bent knee and onto the inside of Emma's thigh right on that lovely patch of skin between her stocking tops and the grey silk, baggy French knickers. 

"Mmmmm nice," Emma murmured again wiggling her toes on his erection, but also reaching behind her.

Mike was stroking Emma's inner thigh, the side of his hand brushing against her lips inside the slither of silk making up the gusset of the panties.

"Well," she went on pulling her bra off and dropping that onto her dress. "Que sera, sera."

Emma had no intention whatsoever of letting Mike go. She had her clutches into him, liked him and saw the fantastic business potential he had. That meant, as it often did with her, that she would fuck him and do business with him, irrespective of the consequences. She was confident that the combination of her tits, her fantastic sexual performance and the vast amount of money he could earn, would overcome any silly inhibiting factors, particularly any moral ones, which he may have. They had always worked in the past and she was determined they would this time; the hardness under her foot and Mike's hands inside her panties discovering her shaved mons, indicated they would this time as well.

She leaned forward dangling her spectacular breasts just in front of his face.

"How are these, Mike?"

He reached up and cupped the two wonderfully full and superbly rounded orbs in his hands. They were probably the best pair of tits Mike had ever held. He was an avid tit man as well as an avid and serial philanderer. In some ways, he was as sexually messed up as most of the clients he treated, as indeed were Emma and Sammi as well come to that. The differentiating factor between the doctor, the nurses and the patients was that being sexual dysfunctional didn't worry them, whereas it did the patients. 

"They are bloody fantastic, Emma," he replied burying his face in their glorious, smooth softness.

Whilst Emma was manipulating Mike, but then she manipulated everyone, after all isn't that what having a Balkans background is all about, she did want him? That was not just a mental 'can't have so I want even more' viewpoint', but also a physical thing as well: he excited her, both emotionally and physically.

Leaving her boobs so that he could get to them with both his mouth and hands, Emma reached down and undid his shirt. He straightened up to help her remove it. She ran her fingers over his chest and tits and quite firmly pinched his nipples. She lowered herself a little and they kissed. 

That felt slightly strange to both of them. In Mike's masturbation scenes with Emma, they had never kissed and Emma, really being an ultra high-class whore, tended to follow the tradition of that profession and rarely kissed her lovers. Presumably, whores think that their body is a sufficient product to sell and that their minds, and thus kissing, are not for sale. 

That said, it was nice for both of them and quickly their tongues were probing deep into the other's mouth and their lips were squirming as their passion grew and their need for each other increased.

Mike got his arms round her, he pulled and that made Emma slip. She was laying half on and half off the settee where Mike was now sitting up from where he had been sprawled against the back of the sofa. He went to grab her, but she slipped, still holding onto his arms. That pulled him forward and they both fell onto the thick pile carpeted floor, Mike half on top of her. They both laughed at what had happened as Emma squirmed out from beneath and rolled them both over so that she was half lying on top of him.

"And the rest of it?" She asked, confusing Mike.

"My body, stupid," she explained her fingers going to his belt and quickly undoing it.

"Oh bloody hell Emma, why ask? You must know it's fucking fantastic."

"A girl always like confirmation you know and I hope it's going to be both fucking fantastic and fantastic fucking," she smiled sliding his zip down. "Come on get these down," she went on leaving Mike to remove his trousers as she slipped her hand into his boxers and grabbed his erection."

"Mmmmm that feels nice," she muttered as she looked at his now nakedness and rubbed his cock between both hands.

"It is nice," he grunted, his hips starting to move to the same rhythm of her hands. "And I know your body is fucking fantastic and we are going to have fantastic fucking."

Emma knelt on the carpet beside him. She let her gaze roam admiringly over the slim, but muscular body of her soon to be lover.

"I think you may well be right there, Mike" She said looking right into his eyes as she slipped her fingers inside the waistband of her French knickers. "I think we will fuck in a fantastic way just as after we will work together in a fantastic way."

"Hey hang on who said anything about that?" he said watching the grey silk start to slide down Emma's stomach and thighs.

She kept looking at him as she slowly revealed her bald pubis. "Who said anything about us fucking Mike, but we are."

"Mmmm, true," he said reaching up and stroking her tits as the panties slid down to her bended knees where she left them. 

He could see her lips, he could see the folds surrounding her clit and he could see the glistening of her womanly juices as she dropped her hand onto his erection. She ran her fingertips up and down its length.

"I reckon," she said placing her hand on the back of Mike's that was caressing her breast. "That as fantastic as you will find fucking me is, so you will find the job offer I am going to make you."

She squeezed his hand against her breasts as she slowly pumped his cock.

"I doubt it Emma, you know me."

"Yes I do, very well, much better than you think," she said, half standing as she slid her knickers off.

"What do you mean?" He asked lifting his face up towards the luscious orbs dangling near to his face. He had barely run his tongue across one of her dark, largish nipples when she straightened up saying.

"I know you want wealth far more than you let on Mike and I know that you are disillusioned with treating the sexual nutcases that come to your clinics." Emma said as she knelt across him straddling his body at the hips.

"What makes you say that?" he asked as she leaned forward to give him her breasts and nipples.

"I just know and I know what it will take for me to have my cake and eat it." 

Mike was now holding both of her tits, licking and kissing the flesh, the nipples and the crevice between them when he pushed them together. He felt her hand back on his cock. She lifted it and held its tip right against the slit of her lips.

"Mmmmmm," he groaned as he felt her do that and as he kissed her tits.

"Yes mmmmmm, too," she whispered pushing her breasts against the pleasure giving mouth. "Suck my nipple Mike, suck them hard." 

"God yes," he replied loving hearing her say that; Mike was big into dirty talk when he fucked. Emma knew that.

"Do you like your cock being against my lips?"

"Yes, it's fantastic," he said just about being able to formulate the words through the nipples in his mouth.

"Do you want it up me Mike?"

"Yes, yes Emma."

"In me?"

"Yes, yes I do," he slurped, completely 'filling his boots' with Emma's tit flesh.

"In my pussy, Mike?"

"Mmmm."

"You want your cock up my cunt, don't you?" She asked pushing down a little so that the bulbous head went just between her lips, pushing them open a little.

"God yes Emma, I want to fuck your cunt."

"Mmmmm yes Mike, yes you will," she said pressing a little more so that all of the head was between her lips.

"This is the eating Mike?"

"What?"

"I said this is the eating, or the cake, that's up to you."

"How do you mean?"

"I always have my cake and eat it Mike, you know that. I rarely do one without the other."

"So what does that mean?"

"It could mean this," Emma said, lifting herself up so that Mike's cock, almost, but not quite slipped out.

"Fuck no." He groaned.

"Or it could be what just nearly had and a million a year." She said pushing down again so the head was in her.

"Emma for Christ's sake, not here not now," He said, nevertheless still sucking her tits and nipples and running his hands between her legs, round her hips and over her gorgeous bum.

"No Mike, it is here, this is where it is, this is business."

"This?" She asked straightening her body and lifting herself up so that his mouth couldn't reach her tits and his cock slipped out. "And bankruptcy."

"Fucking hell Emma don't be so cruel," he moaned as his cock left the lovely, warm wetness of her body.

"Business is cruel Mike, especially at the high end where I play and where you could to. Where you could earn a million and more, have no debts and have these, whenever you wanted.

As she said that, Emma firstly plunged her body downwards and secondly leaned forward.

The feelings for both of them as Mike's cock surged right up Emma's sexual passage were amazing. He greedily sucked her tits. She remained in that position for a moment or two, then slowly once more straightened and lifted her body. Mike felt himself sliding out from her and her wondrous tits going out of his reach.

"This and a million" Emma said, once more plunging herself downwards, "Or this and nothing" she repeated, as she once more teasingly lifted herself.

In the end, it was no contest. Just as she knew it would be, it was always like that, and in the end Emma always won, well nearly always for there was still the little matter of Sammi to sort.

She beat Mike by fucking him as he had never been fucked before. 

He had entered the apartment at two one afternoon and didn't leave it until after three the next morning. It was a monumental session and one that showed Mike that he too could have his cake and eat it: the million a year and to fuck this amazing woman, as she put it, when you like, but as he knew it would be, when she liked.

"Yes, yes," he grunted, not quite sure at that moment which was the greater desire, fucking Emma or a million a year.

"Yes what?" She asked placing both hands on his chest, her arms straight so that her almost brown, seriously swollen nipples were just out of his reach.

"You cow," he said, smiling ruefully."

"Yes I am aren't I? But a fucking good fuck too, if you say yes."

"I am Emma, I am saying yes, you wicked bitch," he groaned as she plunged herself downwards so that his cock was buried in her right up to its hilt.

"Oooooo," she said smiling, in triumph, "It does so much when you speak dirty Mike."

She then proceeded to fuck Mike. Wonderfully, energetically and fully.

Like most men, Mike loved the woman being on top occasionally' Emma had known that. Just as she had known that he would love: seeing her thrust herself up and down, watching his cock probe in and out of her, looking at her lips wrapped round and gripping his erection so tightly and feeling the additional pressure on him from the position. She knew that men also liked to see her facial expressions, closed eyes and opened mouth combined with staring deep into their eyes, watch her head lolling from side to side her hair flapping around and, most of all to gaze at her tits. There was no need for acting or exaggerations on her part with that. As she slid up and down on his cock so her tits seemed to have a mind of their own, jiggling up and down and flying around all over the place.

She was absolutely right. Mike adored what he saw and what he was feeling. Despite her, obvious extreme levels of sexual activity, Emma was still nice and tight, she gripped him well. That made for fantastic sensations as she forced her pussy walls up and down on his erection.

It was the tits, though, that provided the most sensational visual experience. Leaping and wobbling as her body soared up and then plunged down they looked fabulous and, if there is a more extreme adjective, even more so when wonderfully, she got hold of them. Squeezing, kneading, pinching and squashing she did what she needed to herself to make her cum at the same time as which that extra visual stimulation gave Mike his orgasm.

They showered together and Emma called down to the 'hotel' kitchen for a light dinner. After Mike had said "So I've had the cake, what's the eating it all about" they discussed his role in La Crème. 

Then they fucked again, well they didn't actually fuck for she sucked him. Not just sucked him as most women do, not just until she made him cum as many do, not just letting him cum in her mouth as some do, but doing all of that and then, very obviously, swallowing his cum as few do.

It was more than twelve hours after Mike had arrived that they had sex for the third time. Emma had played with herself, her tits of course, and Mike to establish his erection. Even for sexually dysfunctional psychiatrists three big erections in one session can be hard. At one time it did look as though he might not make it, causing Emma to smile "Need some Viagra do you?"

"Fuck off," he'd jokingly replied stroking her tits and sucking her nipples knowing that was more effective than Viagra, having tried it, purely for scientific purposes of course.

Emma was stroking him; she could feel its stirring semi hardness. She knew it was getting hard, but she equally knew it would take a little more to get the full hardness, the hardness needed to fuck successfully. They were both naked back in bedroom where they had snoozed after she had sucked him.

"Give me a minute," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Go and have a pee or something, I need to do something, I'll give you a call when I am ready."

"You can come back now Mike," she called out.

He returned to the bedroom his 'horizontal' prick looking slightly ridiculous. At first, he couldn't see what Emma had done, other than lie on her front. That was until his eyes readjusted to the mood lighting of the bedroom. It was then that he saw the lotions, the cream and the bottle of almond oil. It was then that he wondered, does she really mean what I think she means. He moved closer to the bed. 

"How do you want me Mike? Like this kneeling or shall I sit on your lap?" Emma asked, naming the three favourite positions for anal sex. The mere thought made him very hard indeed.

Chapter 2

It was a difficult time for Sammi. She was fucked by Mike, she attended Mel's memorial service and was maid of honour at Roni's wedding to the cameraman.

Mike had an equally traumatic time. He fucked both Emma and Sammi, had a farewell fling with Clare and a raging row with Bernard who he blamed for the entire mess; after all he should have known better, and was facing bankruptcy unless he 'sold himself' to Emma..

Emma, as usual, sailed through the storms.

Ahmad was a little pissed that they had blown a few million on the clinic, but a couple of blow jobs in the Mandarin hotel in Singapore quickly overcame that. She had more difficulty with the German. He was a right sadistic bastard and she had to pay a price. Luckily, she had a couple of Thai girls who specialised in taking pain so she was able to 'give' them to Gunther for his pleasure. That one was so badly beaten she might limp for the rest of her life and the other had deep bites all over her breasts and thighs was of as little concern to her as it was to Khorlen; after all, if a girl gets paid twenty grand she should expect a little pain and aggravation shouldn't she?

Sammi and Emma had regular sex. And of course that became more adventurous. So, Sammi at last had a woman give her oral 

Oddly, and neither really knew why, they didn't at first tell each other they had had sex with Mike. Mike didn't tell either of them, either. So, they were both in the dark. Neither knew that he was fucking the other one. Did that matter, would it have been a problem? No, probably not. They were beyond petty jealousies, each in different ways were sexual adventurers, each were sexually dysfunctional.

But then, one evening after they had made love, Emma had innocently asked. "What man last fucked you Sammi?"

Being still in the throes of her climax she didn't think, but sighed. "Mike, what about you?"

"Fuck me," Emma exclaimed.

"Yes darling I will."

"No, I meant that's my answer too."

That brought Sammi to her senses.

"Really, when?"

Emma told her the day.

"The sod, the cheating bastard." Sammi said without thinking, but nevertheless smiling.

"Why?" Emma asked.

"He fucked me the night before." 



The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 18



It started last September, eight months and almost a hundred thousand words ago. It's ending now.

Thanks for reading.

Amanda

*

Mike was both excited and worried. 

Although he still hadn't agreed to work for Emma, he was resigned to the fact she had made him 'an offer that was probably too good to refuse.' She had bought him just, as he suspected, she had bought Sammi.

So, when Emma had called and invited him to dinner at the Hyde Park apartment with her and Sammi he was excited and worried. What was it all about? Had they 'compared notes'? Was this a set up, a confrontation? Or was it a sexual opportunity? He had no idea.

But he knew that he had to go. He knew that he had to find out and he knew that he had to take the risk.

The girls prepared carefully for the evening. As usual, Emma would order the meal to be delivered; she never cooked, so most of the preparation was getting themselves ready. 

Since that amazing time in San Diego their affair had blossomed. It had, as most affairs do, found its own level. It was not, as Emma had anticipated the first time she had shagged the younger woman, Sammi being totally submissive and becoming dependent on her. Just as it was not, as Emma had feared two days later when Sammi started playing an equal, and sometimes leading role, her falling for the blonde: that had scared Emma, she was so unused to feeling that way. She had, however, straightened herself out and got her act together. Ok, she had rationalised, I can't make Sammi dependent on me, but I can still teach her, I can still educate her, I could, maybe, still turn her into the Al Khorensi family whore: after all the psychometric tests did indicate very strongly that she had low morals as far as sex was concerned.

As it happened, that became unnecessary due to the Sheikh's death, but Emma didn't know that at the time. So, in the weeks following the trip to San Diego, she worked hard on Sammi. They had frequent sex. Emma had her stay at the Hyde Park flat quite often and she made arrangements to take Sammi to Saudi. Her plan was to try to get Sammi to have sex with Ahmad and/or Sunni with or without her there. She took Sammi to some of London's finest 

restaurants and most exciting clubs, mainly straight, but also to two very discrete upmarket bi, gay and lesbian joints. Sammi loved it all. She got caught up in the high roller way of life and was quite prepared to do the things that continuing such a life required, such as having frequent and more extreme sex with Emma and sleeping with others, if required. As it happened, she never made it to Saudi, Abdullah's death sparing her being fucked by his two sons nor did she have to test her 'limited morals' the collapse of the new venture diverting her and Emma away from the 'good life' for a while.

Her 'lesbian' education, however, continued and she was an avid pupil and a quick learner.

The first time Emma 'went down' on Sammi was just after San Diego. Sammi felt she would faint, she became an instant oral addict and would have liked to have had her older lover's face between her spreaded legs on a regular basis, well she had that, but more regular, like all day, every day!

It was the next day that she retuned the favour and licked a woman's pussy for the first time. She found it amazing. The warmth on her tongue, the taste, the smell, the smoothness and the texture; everything was fantastic. But, the most sensational part of it was the reaction she got from Emma, and from a girl they had brought home from one of the clubs. The shuddering, the grunting, the pushing back against her mouth and the whole thing about giving another woman an orgasm. That felt incredible.

After one rather drunken and spliff filled evening they had got onto the net and had ordered a range of sex toys. Vibrators, pussy beads and balls, hand held and strap on dildos. Sammi had forgotten about them until a week or so later when Emma said.

"Have a look in that drawer," pointing to her dressing table.

Sammi got up from the bed, totally naked and feeling warm, lovely and temporarily sated. When she saw what was inside she immediately forgot all about being sated, for, of course, their toys had arrived. They never did use the beads and balls, either the pussy or the anal ones, but they experimented with the others. 

They both agreed that although the sensations gained from sex with women were wonderful, of course different to those from a man, being softer, gentler and more knowing, the feeling of being filled was missed. Mouths, tongues even fingers could not compensate for a hard, strong cock being shoved right up their cunts. The two hand held dildos they used on each other and the vibrators, though, did go a long way to make up for those feelings. 

They tried using the strap on jobs Emma had bought, but overall that was a bit too contrived. Fiddling around with the straps and buckle and getting the bloody thing on to the right tightness took some time. When that was tried after extensive foreplay, it spoiled the mood and when they were strapped on prior to starting, it made them both giggle. So, in the main, they rejected the complicated and rather contrived use of such implements. 

There was one aspect about one of the several that Emma bought that they both enjoyed and they did use that one several times.

Whilst the black latex and rubber, eight inch, sturdy imitation cock was as complicated as the others to get on and keep to the required amount of tightness, it had one little gimmick they both liked. Behind the base of the imitation phallus, there was an oval shaped plate. When the dildo was strapped on, that plate ran from about half way up the girl's pubic mound, down and between her legs to end about a third of the way along her pussy lips. The clever feature about that particular dildo was the groove that ran along the back of that plate. That ran right across the wearer's clit. Thus, as the girl thrust the simulated cock into her female, or male come to that, partner, her clit was stimulated at the same time. And that made, as Emma and Sammi found out, for extremely satisfying mutual orgasms. That is assuming neither got a fit of giggles at the sight of the other with the black cock strapped on them.

So, their relationship found its own level. They were sexually very active with each other, but it was no more than that. Neither wanted or expected faithfulness from their partner. But then, a high-class whore and her potential successor aren't really into faithfulness are they? Hence, both fucked Mike with not the slightest degree of remorse or concern.

His cab ride across town increased Mike's anticipation. He had fancied both of them so much and had known, deep down, that sooner or later his desire for both of them would outweigh his vow not to mix business with pleasure: but then his business, sexual therapist, was concerned with many peoples' pleasure, sex!

He had no scruples at all about having had sex with both of them. It was not his concern or interest to be faithful to any woman and, in turn, he didn't expect anything like that back from anyone he partnered with, for an hour, a night a short time or a relationship. Monogamy was unnatural, he believed.

As he rode up in the high-speed lift which just served Emma's fifth floor apartment, he had the vague feeling that they might, they just might, there could just be the possibility, the slight likelihood that the two girls were going to fulfil his most desired fantasy; a threesome with them. 

Mike requesting the lift alerted them to his arrival. They were ready, they had prepared fully, they had done exactly what they had said they would and precisely what they had agreed.

"Ready Sam?" Emma asked squeezing the blonde's hand.

"Spot on," She replied looking into Emma's eyes and smiling as she ran her eyes over her lover. "You look lovely, Emma."

"And I could fucking well eat you, you sexy little bitch," the older woman replied staring at the delicious curves under Sammi's outfit,

Holding hands they stood before the lift doors which, when opened, deposited the occupants into the entrance hall of the stunning apartment, which Emma had just had valued at six million pounds and upwards.

Mike was impressed with the high-speed, totally quiet lift. Just seconds after stepping into it and the lift doors shutting he was standing before them waiting for them to open. He had no idea where he would exit, where he would be in relation to Emma's flat or what he would see.

So, as the doors whooshed open he was very pleasantly surprised to see that he was in Emma's apartment, that Emma and Sammi were there, that they were waiting for him, that they were holding hands, that they were looking at him and that they looked so absolutely fucking sexy. Why?

Because of what they were wearing. And what was that? What do you think? Of course, there could only be one garment.

The Nurse's Uniform.

The End