4 comments/ 32163 views/ 9 favorites I Didn’t Even Know His Name By: LynnGKS I stripped off my usual professional clothing and stood before the full-length hotel mirror in my bikini panties and spikes. It felt great to get that damn bra off and let my tits loose. I was 36-D and as I looked at myself in the mirror there were the usual red marks on my shoulders, the badge of a hard days work for my bra, holding those heavy things up. I tried to go bra-less whenever I could get away with it. I had a good body for twenty-eight – narrow waist, no fat on my hips or thighs, nice ass, very good legs, and absolutely fabulous tits. My tits were head turners. They had been head turners since high school. I slipped on a T-shirt and shorts, but if I didn't want people to see my tits bounce and jiggle I was gonna have to wear a jacket. It was warm outside but I didn't care, I was not gonna imprison my boobs again as they had been all day long, as I sat in the conference center listening to those lectures. It had been a long day in a strange hotel sitting patiently and listening to lectures and looking at slides. But I had to get my CME credits and this course was an easy drive from home. It was a good two-day course and this was the last day. Time to relax. Tonight I had plans to see a movie. It was a movie I hadn't seen and all my friends were talking about, so I left my hotel and followed my GPS map to the address. I parked in the lot and headed for the theatre – one of those big complexes showing a half dozen movies. The one I wanted to see had been playing for a while so the audience would probably be small. I stopped at the goody bar and ordered a diet coke. The guy behind me also ordered a diet coke. He was looking at my tits just like guys had been looking at my tits since high school. I had unzipped my jacket because I was getting warm and looking down I realized that with my jacket open it was obvious I was not wearing a bra. When I moved there was that jiggle that guys liked. What the hell, I thought. Strange town, strange guy, let him look! This guy had to be six or seven years younger than me, but very nice to look at. Give the kid a thrill, I thought. Why not? My nipples got hard as I let him look at my tits. He could see them through my T-shirt. I've got big nipples and guys love 'em. When I made no effort to cover up, the guy made no effort to conceal his staring at my tits. I headed into the theatre of my choice, walked down the aisle about half way, and went over to the last seat next to the wall. The theatre was almost empty. As I looked around I saw the guy who had looked at my tits sit down in the same row in the seat on the aisle. The usual stuff was playing on the screen before the main movie started. The guy kept looking over at me. So what else was new – guys liked to fuck and they were always lookin for easy pussy. But I was here to watch a movie. I sat there sipping my coke and he kept glancing at me. I don't know why it happened, but my pussy started to tingle. She was sending me an urgent message. Maybe it's pheromones, but if I could patent it I would get rich. Now I had to decide whether I wanted to watch a movie or fuck this kid. And I hadn't been fucked in two months. That guy was still glancing over at me. Oh what the hell, I thought, look back at him, so I did. It took only a couple of eye contacts for him to stand up move over and sit beside me. He said not a word, but he slowly moved his knee over against mine. I didn't move my knee and in that moment I made up my mind. I was gonna feed my peter-hungry pussy! She sure as hell needed it! Looking around it was clear that there were very few people in the theatre and no one close enough to see us very well. There were two couples making out. I felt like a teenager again – messing around in a movie. He put his left arm around my shoulder and I leaned closer to him. Then I felt his right hand creep up under my T-shirt and begin exploring my tits. Five minutes after he first saw 'em jiggle, they were naked in his hand and he was playing with 'em. My tits were big and full and firm. This kid – I guessed he was twenty or twenty-one – maybe never felt tits as good as mine. The main movie had started now, but my mind was on other things. Sitting there in the dark getting my tits played with felt really good. He played with 'em for maybe ten minutes – jiggling them, working on my nipples and squeezing them. He was having fun. So was I. Then he moved his hand down. The top of my shorts was elastic so his hand slipped into my shorts easily. He rubbed my belly for a while then moved under my bikini panties and down towards my pussy. He began tickling my mons – I shaved my beaver because a lot of guys at the university liked to get a good look at a gal's labia and clit and they liked to play with naked pussy. Some guys wouldn't eat 'em if they were hairy. His fingers felt good working on my mons. Then I felt a finger start stroking my clit. It was as hard as a rock by now and my pussy was starting to get wet. His finger moved down and slipped easily into my vagina between my wet lips and I spread my legs, so he could get inside me better. If this kid had had any doubts about whether I wanted to fuck, he knew when he felt the dripping wetness of my vagina that he was gonna score – my pussy was getting ready for him. I was gonna spread my legs wide for his pleasure – and he knew it! He'd found exactly what guys are always looking for – easy pussy! Damn! That felt so good after a long hard day listening to lectures. This takes me back to high school and college - sit in lectures all day taking notes, then sit in a car at night and get your pussy played with. I hope he takes his time, I thought, this is so damned relaxing. I love it! This guy may be a lot younger than me but he was not inexperienced – he knew how to handle a wet pussy. And he took his time. He was getting me ready to fuck! He kept working on me till I was ready. Then he kept on working until I was MORE than ready. He really had me! And he knew it! I was hoping he'd make his move sooner rather than later. Finally, and when you're as horny as I was getting it seemed like an eternity, he made his move. Not a word, but he removed his right hand from my pussy and put his left hand under my elbow to help me stand up. I followed him, like a bitch in heat following a hound dog. I was ready to fuck! He walked to the aisle, and up the aisle, and out of the theatre. I followed him, with my pussy dripping - helpless with desire. He was leading me to his car! I started praying silently - Oh please Lord, don't let it be a Toyota. I'd been fucked in little Japanese cars all through high school and college. And I can tell you from personal experience that fuckin is not much fun if you can't spread your legs wide enough to give the guy a fair target to pound. I had learned in high school that if you want that pussy pounded you gotta spread those legs wide. He stopped at his car. It wasn't a Toyota! It was one of those big white SUVs – the kind you see everywhere. I was gonna have room to spread my legs – spread 'em wide like I could never do when I got fucked in a little car. The windows were tinted so you couldn't see in. That's good I thought - it's distracting, when you're trying to fuck, to have people walk by and look in the window. There were a lot of teenagers walking around in small groups talking and laughing. He pushed the keypad several times and lights flashed and beepers beeped. Then he opened the back door. The back seats were all folded up and the space seemed enormous – more than enough room to fuck. I crawled in and he followed. I started to strip down for him right away. I think he could see I was really eager to fuck. The light was low but there was enough for him to enjoy looking at my naked body. When a man looks at me naked it always makes me glad that I strap on that damn athletic bra real tight and go jogging. When I get tired jogging, I imagine a man looking at me naked – it's an incentive to work harder and sweat more. He looked me over carefully. I could tell he liked what he saw. Then he started to undress. He had a hard on when his shorts came off. I reached over and played with it. He was circumcised, which I like. Some uncircumcised guys get dirty under their foreskin and I don't like that taste, although I'm well aware that fags love it. In fact, San Francisco is trying to pass a law against circumcision! His cock was a nice size – about six or seven inches I'd say – and my hand fit around it nicely. I reached down and felt his balls. Big but not too big – more than one load in these babies I thought. Shit! Why do I still think that way? Semen in not stored in balls! It's stored in seminal vesicles. I didn't learn that till my course in anatomy, but everybody thinks testicles are where the semen is. Maybe it's sexier to think that. I played with that idea in my head as I played with his testicles in my hand – yeah, it is sexier to think that cum is stored in a guy's balls. When you're getting fucked you can feel 'em lift up out of your hand, high in a guy's scrotum just before he pumps his load. In my head, ever since high school, I always imagined those balls were unloading their thick, creamy, wonderful stuff deep inside of me. This guy was great! Most guys just want to ram it in once they get you naked. But he was very patient. He knew I was gonna spread my legs for him! He knew he had me! And he was taking his own sweet time feeling me up. He was teasing me and enjoying my body. He knew the hornier he got me, the better fuck I'd be – and he was right. I was gonna work hard be the best fuck this kid ever had. I was grateful to him for ending my two-month dry spell. He played with my body rubbing his hands over every inch of me – tits and ass and shaved pussy and all. And I played with him too. Damn! Muscles feel so much better than soft flesh, although as his hands explored my body I knew he didn't feel the same way I did about muscles and soft flesh – and what a good thing that was! As I had that thought another bunch of teenagers walked past the car laughing and joking. Thank God for tinted windows. I was getting so horny I was starting to tremble. And just like back at the theatre, I was starting to hope he'd move faster. I didn't want to beg this kid for it, but if he didn't make his move pretty soon I just might have to. I needed to feel that hard thing inside me. Now! At last he put his hand on the back of my head and guided me down to his dick to get him ready. One reason I liked dicks his size was that they were easier to suck than the monsters. Of course I'd had to suck a few monsters – all gals do – and big ones are a real pain in the ass to suck off. It's work! Just getting the monsters slippery with spit is work. But you gotta suck guys' cocks – they expect it. They wanna look down and see a bitch on her knees working hard enough to make her tits jiggle. I took well over half of his dick in my mouth and swirled my tongue around it until it was slippery with my saliva. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up, then laid me down on my back. He was rough but he didn't hurt me. It was real nice touch – I had the image of a caveman dragging his bitch into a cave by her hair to fuck her. And I was certainly his bitch and he was certainly gonna fuck me - I was eager to fuck and the bastard knew it. I could spread my legs as wide as I wanted to. And I did! This was no Toyota! He crawled between my legs and I reached down and guided his cock into me. Damn that cock felt good. I tightened my pussy a couple of times to give that strange dick a user-friendly hello. If my pussy could talk she'd be saying, "Glad to see you! Have your fun with me!" When you fuck a new guy, there's always a minute or so where you both figure out how your bodies are gonna fit together and who likes what. How high does he want my ass? How high do I lift my knees to get my clit in the right place to rub his pubis? And so on. He's trying to figure out other stuff - how hard does the bitch want me to fuck her? Is she a gal who likes a gentle fuck or does she want that pussy pounded? Where does she want her legs? Should I lift her knees up to her shoulders so the bitch can take it really deep or does she want her feet on the floor so she can pump her ass harder? Of course new lovers don't negotiate these adjustments – their bodies just make 'em till everything feels right. It didn't take long before our bodies got it all sorted out and then he starts to pound me and I'm matching his every thrust lifting my ass up to meet him. Oh yeah baby – pound that pussy hard! It's all yours! Have your fun! Our bodies are making a slapping sound as we bang together. My clit's getting what she needs – what she has needed for the past two months. And my pussy will get what she needs – something hard to grab hold of when my clit sends her that signal. Vibrators work of course but your pussy needs something to clamp down on when you cum. That's why the good Lord made peckers. Once we got our rhythm settled and we were both comfortable I reached down with my left hand and took hold of his balls. Some of my girlfriends talked a lot about how big their guy's balls were. What I wanted was a pair that I could depend on and that fit neatly into my hand because I enjoyed massaging them. Usually guys liked that feeling – fucking a bitch while she played with his balls. I could almost hear him telling his buddies about me – easy pussy he was gonna say – spread her legs to make that dripping cunt available for my fingers in the movie theatre, he'd say - and she played with my balls while she fucked. And you should have seen those tits! She was one horny bitch. I could never figure out why some of my girlfriends always talked about how long a guy could last. I just wanted him to last long enough to bring me off – after that he was a nuisance. And my young man was good. I felt it coming like I always do – building gradually – more and more until my pussy just exploded and I trembled all over in helpless ecstasy. When a guy can do that to a pussy on a regular basis, he owns that pussy! It's his property to use whenever he wants it! This guy was that good and I was sorry I was never gonna see him again! After my orgasm, I lay there thinking those thoughts as my young man grunted and pumped his load. I lifted my ass up to take it deep because in my experience most guys like to pump it there. He collapsed on my body panting for air and I stroked his sweating back and kissed his neck. I loved the taste of a man's sweat – especially sweat he made servicing my needs. Another bunch of teenagers walked past the car laughing and joking. He rolled off of me and we lay resting in silence for perhaps five minutes. Then he rolled back and began playing with my tits and stroking my body. I loved the smell and feel of a sweating male body close to me and I began to play with him. It was my turn to work up a sweat now – fair's fair. I sat up and leaned over and took his semi-hard cock in my mouth. I didn't mind the taste of semen and vaginal secretions. I had long ago learned to appreciate that I had a role to play if I expected a man to please me - and suckin a recently used dick was part of that role. I took that cock deep with my lips in his pubic hair and sucked and swirled my tongue around it as it grew larger. After a minute or so he got nice and hard and the head of his dick was tickling my tonsils. I climbed on and mounted that beautiful thing to do him cowboy. I liked cowboy because I was in control – I could rub my clit against him exactly the way I wanted to – exactly the way I liked. I could set the rhythm to whatever I wanted. He had fucked me properly, now it was my turn to do him. I liked having my tits admired and played with and there was no better position than cowboy for that, because they were hanging right down jiggling over his face. I feel sorry for gals with little tits. Silicone might change the way they looked, but it made 'em feel like plastic! I was supporting my weight on my arms and my tits hung down inches from his face. I often laughed when I did a guy cowboy because it felt so damn good. Tonight I had a big smile on my face and there was enough light for me to see his expression too. It always turns me on to watch a guy work for his orgasm when he's underneath me and I'm in control. I was sweating as I worked and sweat was running down my tits to my nipples and dripping off. I saw him staring at the sweat on my jiggling tits and at the drops of sweat dripping off my nipples. It was turning him on big time. He was strong and when he pumped his hips he just slammed into my pussy and lifted my whole body up. Watching his expression and feeling his body move I could see him getting closer and closer and as he did I felt myself do the same – excited by watching him get excited. Then suddenly his body trembled as he started to pump his load up into me and I dropped down onto his sweaty chest and rubbed my clit hard and fast against his pubic symphysis. My orgasm began just after his was complete. It was good and long. I felt my pussy grab on to that cock and squeeze it hard. Good Kegels make strong pussies. I lay astride his sweating body as sweat ran off of my own – my tits pressed flat against his muscular chest. My body was now thoroughly relaxed. I just lay on top of him, panting and resting. Damn! I thought. I love to fuck and I never get enough. The last time was two months ago. I had to watch my behavior now that I had finished training and started working. It was not like being at the university – I was just another student there and nobody cared that students fucked. This was enough to make a girl think about marriage! I had thought about it, but the crop of eligible bachelors was small in that little town. When a guy found out how much money I made he was history – no guy wants to earn less than his wife. When I saw how old a lot of eligible guys were, I ruled them out – my reason to get married was to fuck and they were too old to do it right for very long. I didn't want to steal another gal's husband – what the hell could I do? I had been over this many times before and laying on top of the young stud I'd just fucked was neither the time nor the place to go through it all again. I kissed my young man and dismounted. He lay there quietly as I got dressed, his satisfied and flaccid penis lying on his belly. I leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips, then gave his soft penis a gentle thank-you kiss and looking around to make sure no one was close, I opened the door and got out. My SLK was parked nearby and I unzipped my jacket pocket and got my key. I threw a towel on the seat because I could feel that big double load I'd taken oozing out of my pussy and running down my leg. I didn't want it to drip off on the seat and stain the leather. Damn! That was a good fuck! I had to use GPS to get back to my hotel and, as I drove along listening to the less than mellifluous voice of the computer giving me directions, I started thinking again about how I was gonna get fucked when I got back home. With my new job I had to be careful. That small town with all those nosey wives was nothing at all like the university town, where I could get fucked as much as I needed to. Finding a reliable dick in my new town would be difficult. Fucking some broad's husband would be too dangerous. I couldn't be seen alone in bars looking for guys and anyway single guys my age were scarce. I wasn't gonna try to steal a husband although if I did, it would be the doc with those soft hands who did my physical exam – those hands really turned me on. He saw everything I had, felt of my tits, put his fingers in my pussy, even checked out my Kegels, and he had no interest in me at all. Jesus! Am I losing it? I Didn’t Even Know His Name Ch. 02 I pulled my little SLK into the doctors' parking lot of the Collins Clinic and eased into a slot between a Beemer and a Benz. No worry about getting scratched because those guys would be as careful with their cars as I was with mine. As I started to get out I noticed a small white golf towel in the back. I sat there for a moment staring at that towel. It had been two months since I washed it after I'd fucked that guy I picked up in a movie theatre in KC. I had sat on that towel to keep the cum that was dripping out of my pussy from running down my leg, out of my shorts, and staining my leather seats. Two months since I'd been fucked! My peter-hungry pussy was sending me distress signals. My new job was great but this little town was the pits -- nothing like the university town I had left behind. No guys! At least no guys to fuck. I was surrounded by small town wives. I had joined the country club but there were no single guys my age. All the docs in the clinic were married. But my job was great! And I was gradually getting the referrals I needed to build my surgical practice. And no post-op complications! I mentally crossed myself. Thank you Lord. Complications would happen -- they always did -- but so far I'd been lucky. And the docs liked me! This morning I was headed for a committee interviewing a candidate for the job of invasive cardiologist -- some guy named Rusty Embly, who was replacing some guy named Rich Ames. It was an honor for a new 28 year-old surgeon to be asked to sit on that committee. The head of the committee was a Gynecologist named Tom Rogers -- one hell of a great guy. He had examined me two months ago and he had the softest hands I ever felt. I had met his wife Peggy who was a nursing classmate of Dr. Roger's nurse, Gail. Gail was helping me out till I got a regular office nurse. Peggy had become a kind of best girl friend -- we had coffee and lunch a lot -- and she understood my problem of finding a guy in the small town of Springfield Missouri. Peggy was a very lucky woman to be married to Tom. A guy that good-looking with those soft hands could have had his choice of a lot of gals, but he never strayed. I'd like to find a guy like that! I couldn't sit here thinking about my problems all morning. I had work to do. I got out of my car and headed for the clinic building and for the conference room where the committee was meeting. I sat down at the conference table and picked up the file that Tom passed over to me. It was labeled "Russell (Rusty) Embly" and it contained the details of his training and experience. He was four years older than me and his background was impeccable. There were about a half dozen clinic doctors sipping coffee around the table -- I was the youngest. I looked at Rusty Embly's picture and my pussy snapped to attention. My eyes flashed up to the "marital status" part of his CV and I saw that big S. Jesus! I was in luck! Maybe! Suddenly there was a commotion as we all stood up when Rusty Embly entered the room and was introduced to each of us. One look at this doll and my pussy started sending me frantic messages. I told her to shut up -- there was more to this thing than just laying down and spreading my legs, like when I was in college. Pussies have simple, one-track minds. I was in a kind of daze for the next hour. As the most junior member of the committee there was, fortunately, little for me to do or say or ask. I voted with a unanimous committee to offer Dr. Embly the job. Then I headed to my office to dictate some charts. I had a luncheon date with Peggy Rogers at a small restaurant near the medical center and when I sat down I started to tell her about Rusty Embly. Peggy interrupted me. She told me not to bother. She'd seen him and she thought he was a doll and he was single. So now what? I asked her. We talked about it for a while and agreed that we had to get him out to the club at the pool. She kept talking about showing him what I looked like in a bikini. But then she said we had a problem and asked if I knew the clinic lobby receptionist, Carolyn Ames. I knew her but I had heard nothing about her. Peggy told me that her husband had divorced her for screwing a bunch of graduate students in a university extension program. Peggy said that Carolyn had gotten her job by sucking off the head administrator, a guy I had met only once -- Larry Morris. Wow! There are no secrets in this small town. I'm gonna have to be very careful. I need to fuck but I don't want these ladies calling me a whore. And then she hit me with it. Carolyn was driving Rusty Embly out to the club and showing him around Springfield. Carolyn was a whore. She'd try to get Rusty between her legs before he left town Thursday. And that's exactly what happened. Peggy had nosey friends all over town and it turned out that Carolyn spent two nights with Rusty -- one at his hotel and the second at her apartment. She was fucking the guy that I wanted to catch! Shit! I needed help. I was glad that Peggy told me the story of Gladys Detweiler. She said Gladys was a whore whose skill at cock sucking had captured the attention of a number of medical students, including her future husband Tom Rogers. Tom had fucked Gladys every Friday night for two months, but finally quit when he proposed to Peggy. I was impressed that Peggy had captured Tom, because he was a "cherry picker" and had gals competing with each other to climb in the back seat of his beat up old Plymouth. But Peggy got him! She had to learn to suck cock, but she got him and their marriage had been very successful. Peggy didn't like sucking cock, but she did it because Tom liked it and wives gotta do what wives gotta do. I told her I didn't like sucking cocks either, especially the big monsters, but if Carolyn got her job sucking off the clinic administrator then maybe she was a talented cocksucker. Peggy agreed and then told me more bad news -- Carolyn was doing Larry Morris deep throat! I told Peggy I couldn't do much deep throat -- maybe six inches max. We talked about how Rusty might like his cock sucked. Fortunately I'd sucked a lot of cock and was pretty good at it except for the really big ones -- the monsters. More importantly, Peggy said I should not worry about Rusty fucking a whore. Guys fucked whores. That's what whores were for. The fact that Tom had done that and then became an excellent husband made me feel a lot better. Peggy said she was gonna set up a dinner at the club for Rusty and me to get together, but mainly we had to show him what I looked like in a bikini at the club pool. She was gonna work on that. It was another month before Rusty started work at the clinic. Right after he arrived Tom and Peggy had a dinner party at the club for Rusty and me with several other clinic doctors and their wives. Rusty was a doll. I almost creamed my pants every time I looked at him. We were sitting at a table with several other doctors from the clinic and my neglected pussy was shouting at me. It was a wonderful evening and Rusty was very friendly. It pissed me off to think about him fucking that whore Carolyn, but Peggy kept telling me guys fucked whores -- don't worry about it. I tried not to. Peggy invited Rusty and me to join her and her husband the next afternoon at poolside. Peggy and I had talked about my choice of bikinis. I wanted to show him my body but I didn't want to be vulgar about it. I selected one that would not be transparent when it got wet and would not show my nipples when they got hard. I knew for sure that when that stud looked at my body in a bikini my nipples would get rock hard. It was a wonderful afternoon in the sun and Rusty got a really good look at my body. I think he was interested. Back at the university I would be fuckin him after a couple of dates -- but Springfield was not a university town. Peggy and I had talked a lot about the customs here. She kept saying -- be patient -- take your time. But I needed to get laid! A few days later Rusty asked me out to dinner and we started dating once or twice a week -- usually on Saturday. He was a gentleman. He knew good wines, especially French Bordeaux, which I liked a lot. After he kissed me good night on the third date, I started inviting him in for a cordial and gradually we did a little kissing and fooling around. He liked my tits and I finally let him play with them a little. It was hard not to fuck him. My pussy was yelling at me all the time, but I did not want to be just another slutty bitch he was servicing -- although God knows I was a slutty bitch who really needed servicing. I was using my vibrator and fantasizing but no orgasm is complete without a hard dick for your pussy to grab hold of and squeeze. I had lunch or coffee with Peggy a lot and it was amazing what these gossiping wives knew about everybody in town. One gal even knew that Carolyn Ames was blowing her husband and she let him do it because it improved his "attitude." Wow! I was shocked -- and I'm hard to shock! Jesus! There are no secrets in this little town. I was gonna have to be very careful! Everybody knew that Rusty Embly was fucking Carolyn Ames and I was dating Rusty. When the subject came up they always said I should not worry and hinted that all guys fucked whores. Talk about double standards! What worried me most were those damn nurses! Some were younger than me, and better looking I thought. I was sure they would fuck him the first chance they got. All he had to do was ask one of them out and she'd spread her legs. Shit! Small towns were dipshit places! But I did my job and kept out of trouble and pulled my night call and my practice grew and most important -- no post-op complications! They would come I knew but please God not until I have established my skills in a way the other docs recognized and respected. I had some professional interactions with Tom Rogers - scrubbed a couple of times with him. He was what I hoped Rusty would be like at his age -- Peggy was a lucky girl. Then one day in the coffee shop Peggy said I ought to "go for it" as she put it. That Ames bitch and Rusty had spent a weekend out of town fucking their brains out and she had come back with cystitis. Tom had told her not to fuck for ten days and Rusty was gonna get horny. This was a good time to get him in bed. We had a date Saturday night. I was on call but things were usually quiet and I could handle most stuff by a phone call. I decided to give it a try. I didn't have a choice because he'd be fuckin that bitch the next weekend. Rusty picked me up at eight and we had a delightful dinner at the club. Then he took me home and we did our thing on the couch. He was getting really hot and when I stood up and took his hand he eagerly followed me into the bedroom. We undressed in the dark and I pulled him into bed beside me. He kissed me and I spread my legs and he rolled over between them. I reached down and felt a thick, hard cock, which I guided into me. Damn! It felt good! He started pumping and I was pumping back and then that damn phone rang! Shit! It was our guy covering the hospital ER. The patient was a twenty-five year-old male with nausea and vomiting and right lower quadrant pain. He had guarding and rebound on exam. His count was up with a left shift. Appendicitis I thought. Routine but I need to get it out before it ruptures. But it was NOT routine. Our guy had done a CT and it was a damn good thing he did because there was fluid in the right gutter and the appendix was retrocecal with high-grade inflammation. Shit! I was gonna have to do him open! I didn't dare try to get a scope under there with that much inflammation. Thank God I'd done a couple of retrocecals open. I was lucky -- so many surgeries were done with scopes these days that chances for residents to learn the open techniques were rare. I looked quickly at the clock. Eleven o'clock. I was gonna be there the rest of the night! I told our guy I would get there as fast as I could and examine the patient in the ER. Then I explained the situation to Rusty, who had been between my legs with his dick still it me while I talked on the phone. He rolled off of me and I got dressed quickly. He knew as well as I did what I had to do. When I got to the ER I started to ask the nurse which examining room the patient was in. Shit! I didn't even know his name. I was here to cut him open and I didn't even know his name! She was expecting me though and headed me in the right direction to his room. The ER doc was right. Typical history and on exam he had rebound pain referred to McBurney's point. The CT was on the screen and it showed free fluid in the right paracolic gutter and an inflamed retrocecal appendix. I took the radiologist's word for the level of inflammation. Damn radiologists -- they work at home in pajamas getting stuff on their computers. The rest of us have to haul our asses out of bed and get dressed. No question, though. It's gotta come out and I gotta do him open -- no scope can get under there safely -- not with it inflamed like that. I started giving rapid-fire orders. Call anesthesia, he'll need a spinal. I'll need somebody on the other side of the table - get me a surgical nurse specialist to assist. Get a tube in his stomach and clean him out. Type and cross match for two units. Get two lines into him -- Ringer's lactate. It was all routine but I wanted it done fast. I explained to the young man what he had and what I wanted to do. I insisted his wife come in the room and I explained what might go wrong. They both signed the consent form. Then I headed up to the locker room to change and in a matter of minutes I was standing at the sink in my scrubs, cap and mask, brushing my hands and arms while the patient was being prepped. Ten minutes. I entered the OR and the circulating nurse handed me a towel, helped me with my gown and powdered my hands for the gloves. The nurses had completed the prep and the nurse anesthetist had done her thing. I walked over to the table with my hands folded on my chest and looked at the clock on the wall. Two minutes till midnight. Shit! Less than an hour ago I was on my back with my legs spread, fuckin the man of my dreams when that damn phone rang. I looked at the anesthetist and she nodded. I lifted the towel off of his abdomen and noted that the patient had been properly draped and prepped. I held out my right hand, the scrub nurse slapped a Bard-Parker into my palm, and I was on autopilot. Incision at McBurney's point -- clamp and coagulate the bleeders -- oh I better tie that one - transect the external aponeurosis -- clamp and coagulate - bluntly split the external and internal oblique muscles -- clamp and coagulate -- down to the peritoneum. Make sure the wound is clean and dry before opening the peritoneum. My assistant was doing her job to perfection, as was the scrub nurse. Everything was in my hand when I needed it and when I had to tie off a bleeder my assistant was clipping the silk the instant I held the sutures out tight. Through the peritoneum and in with the retractors. Perfect exposure of the colon and cecum! I would NOT have to extend the incision! Thank you Lord. I could hear in my head the grouchy voice of my surgical attending. You can't dig it out blind, he had said - you have to mobilize the cecum and then he had showed me how. I swept my finger through the right paracolic gutter to break up the adhesions, that I knew were there and then I mobilized the cecum to deliver the appendix into the wound. There it was! It's not perforated! Thank you Lord! I clamped and ligated the appendix and transected it at the base. Then -- clank! - I dropped it, along with the Kelly holding it, and the scalpel I cut it with into a stainless steel basin, held out to me by the circulating nurse. That thing was full of bugs and so were the instruments that had touched it. Now I had a choice. I could either coagulate the base and imbricate it into the cecum using a purse-string or cover it with omentum. This was necessary to prevent an infection of the peritoneum. The stump had bugs. I remembered my old surgical professor who had always used formalin, like in the old days. The OR was cool but my forehead was covered with sweat. I turned my head to the circulating nurse and she mopped my brow with a four-by-four. I looked at the clock. Ten till one -- shit! this was going slow. Some guys had already finished a simple appie by fifty minutes. Of course this was NOT a simple appie. I was careful to coagulate and cover the base. I did not want a post-op infection. I would use prophylactic antibiotics too in spite of the fact that some purists thought that was overkill. I hadn't had a post-op infection since I came to Springfield and I didn't want one now. Okay. Now to close. Jesus! All during my residency I was closing bellies and chests. It was a routine and boring part of any procedure -- except it was important to do it right or there would be complications. The scrub nurse slapped a needle holder into my palm and I began to repair the peritoneum -- and then, layer by layer, I began working my way back out to skin, undoing the damage I'd done getting to where I needed to be. It was work. Concentrate! Take your time and do it right. Technique is everything. Soft and gentle with the fingers. Keep the rhythm going. Don't slow down. Do it right and you'll finish him. Some people think this is fun but it's work. The fun comes later when you're talking about it. Don't get lazy. Pay attention! Do the work and do it right. I did the work. Finally, I put a row of interrupted sutures in his belly. Guys were so much easier than gals, who did not like scars on their abdomens. Thank you Lord for letting me do it right. When the last stitch was cut I looked at the clock -- one-forty. Shit! Almost two hours! Then I reminded myself not to think like a guy. Guys always bragged about how FAST they did a procedure. What you brag about is how WELL you do a procedure and how few post-op complications you have. I thanked the nurses and the anesthetist and my assistant. Then I removed my gloves and gown, dropped my mask and headed for the recovery room in my scrubs and cap to see my patient and write the orders. Then back to the locker room where I put on my street clothes and added a white coat to look more professional. Finally I spoke with the patient's wife and reassured her that all had gone well. By the time I had checked the patient one last time and drove my SLK out of the doctors parking lot it was three AM. When I got home, Rusty was long gone. What a hell-of-a thing to happen during my first fuck of the guy I might want to marry! Five hours sleep. Luxury compared to residency! Alarm. Sunday rounds. Notes. My patient was out of recovery and in a regular room. Passing gas, afebrile, and pain free. Wife there and happy. Breakfast in the hospital dining room. Home. Noon. Call Rusty and apologize. What the hell do you say? My pussy wanted to say come over and fuck me this afternoon but I was, frankly, beat. Not in the mood. We talked. Shit! He said he'd be over for drinks! What he really meant was he'd be over for pussy. His regular supply had been shut off. I better GET my ass in gear if I was interested in keeping this guy. Woman's work! Get yourself in shape bitch! He's gonna have a hard on when he walks through that door. I remembered how thick that damn thing felt in my hand last night. He was gonna make me suck it -- all guys were that way. Good thing I brought home the local anesthetic spray for my throat. He kissed me first thing when he came through the door. Then he grabbed my ass in both hands and squeezed and led me to the couch. Guys! Jesus! He kept kissing me and his hands were all over me and he put my hand on his dick, which was big and hard. Damn! It felt thick! I knew what the bastard wanted. I Didn’t Even Know His Name Ch. 02 He unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants and shorts down and an ugly, blue-veined monster popped up like it was on a spring -- hard - rigid -- uncircumcised, with a bulbous purple head and a thick foreskin. Jesus! It had to be seven inches. Shit! Perfect for my pussy but can my mouth take it? Well a gal's gotta do what a gal's gotta do. Thank God I had sprayed my throat! I slid my body off the couch and got down on my knees between his legs. Damn that dick was big. I slid his foreskin back and took that big thing in my mouth and started to suck on it. He put both hands on the back of my head and forced me down shoving his cock deeper into my mouth. Then he started humping his hips. I was supporting my body with my hands on his thighs so he didn't go too deep, but he grabbed my wrists and moved my hands down to his balls. Shit! I had no support! The bastard was gonna make me take it all! His hands went back to my head and pushed me down. I felt that thick cock push against my tonsils and there was still more shaft left sticking up out of his lush, curly pubic hair. He had hold of my head and I was helpless. He was gonna make me take it all! Please God don't let me gag! He pushed my head further down and I felt his dick hit the back of my throat. My lips were in his pubic hair now and when he looked down he could see that I had taken the whole damn thing down my throat. Exactly what the bastard wanted. Deep throat! And no gagging! Thank you for helping me Lord! He had me just where he wanted me -- the head of his cock was massaging my tonsils. But I could take all of him now -- from the big head of his dick down till my lips were buried in his pubic hair. I was gonna suck the juice right out of him. I began to massage his testicles softly and work that big thing -- top to bottom - with my mouth slipping up and down, lips tight, tongue swirling around his dick. It was work. Concentrate! Take your time and do it right. Technique is everything. Soft and gentle with the fingers. Keep the rhythm going. Don't slow down. Do it right and you'll finish him. Some people think this is fun but it's work. The fun comes later when you're talking about it. Don't get lazy. Pay attention! Do the work and do it right. The room was cool but my forehead was covered with sweat -- and there was no circulating nurse to wipe it off. I kept working. Suddenly! Wham! He groaned and I felt his juice spurting against the back of my throat. I tried to swallow that thick creamy stuff as fast as I could -- no way was he gonna see me with cum dripping off my chin like some slut. I'd sucked enough cock to know what to do with the jism. Swallow fast bitch! That load of cum has been building up for a week. This was the biggest dick I had ever taken deep throat and if I could keep this guy for my own it would be the last one. Thank you Lord for letting me do it right. I stayed on my knees, panting, as he laid his head back on the couch. He was gonna rest a few minutes and then he was gonna take me in the bedroom and fuck me. Finish what he had started last night. Then he was gonna rest and he was gonna fuck me some more. I had work to do tonight. Woman's work. He was gonna have his fun with me. And, if I want to keep him, I thought, I damn well better make sure he enjoys the pussy as much as he enjoyed the blowjob. I'm his bitch now. He's gonna use me. And that's the way I want it. I'm gonna be sore as hell tomorrow but a woman's gotta do woman's work to please a man. I got the man I want now. Maybe I can keep him too tired for that Ames slut. Maybe I can keep him away from those horny young nurses. Maybe if I get real lucky I'll have myself a keeper, just like Peggy has Tom. I'm gonna work hard to keep this horny bastard satisfied -- whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, and ANY WAY he wants it. I Didn’t Even Know His Name The world was not fair. Guys could always go to another town and pay for pussy. Gals couldn't do that. But believe me, if I could pay to get fucked like I just now got fucked, I'd pay. A vibrator is no substitute for a real dick. I thought again about that lovely cock I had just enjoyed. He had used it so skillfully! I'd be thinking about that damn thing for weeks every time I used my vibrator. He took his time and got me so hot that I did my share of the work. I was so turned on that if he had wanted to he could have made me beg for it. Maybe when I use my vibrator I'll fantasize him making me beg for it! That'll turn me on! My tension was gone. My pussy felt great. My whole pelvis was relaxed. There was nothing like a couple of orgasms to relax your pelvic muscles. I chuckled as I realized we had both acted on instinct just like two animals. Not a word was spoken and I didn't even know his name.