9 comments/  42592 views/  27 favorites

A Gift in Disguise Ch. 01

By: Talespin



-Part 1-

"I'm sorry, Mr. Connors, but I'm afraid there's little more we can do to diagnose and treat your condition."

Though I was not completely surprised to hear them, Dr. Bennefield's words still left me stunned.

I sat briefly and absorbed his conclusion. I'd heard it before from other doctors. Then I just nodded, mumbled insincere thanks, arose from my chair, and walked out of his inner office, past his office manager, and to my car. The drive back to my apartment was a blur. For a 23-year-old man in apparently good health, his words sounded like a death sentence. 

Since reaching puberty I'd had no difficulty becoming sexually aroused, achieving both erection and orgasm during masturbation and even when being masturbated by a woman. However, whenever I tried to penetrate a woman, something went wrong and I went limp. It was humiliating, degrading, discouraging. I felt powerless, truly impotent.

It wasn't until my senior year in college during an annual physical exam that I had the courage to talk with my doctor about my problem. He was sympathetic and referred me first to one urologist, who sent me to a second when the first could not help. They all concluded the underlying cause was psychological, so the next logical step was to seek help from psychologists. Well, actually from two. They took months and insurance money before giving up. 

At the suggestion of my own doctor, I visited Dr. Bennefield, a psychiatrist. Though equally sympathetic, he could only conclude that perhaps my problem would "eventually work itself out." It took him three months to conclude that. Thank goodness for health insurance.

Arriving home after my final appointment with the psychiatrist, I went to bed and slept for twelve hours. The phone ringing the next morning awakened me.

"H'lo," I mumbled into the handset.

"Mr. Connors?" the woman's voice at the other end inquired.

"Yeah," I said still partially asleep and feeling a headache coming on.

"This is Marcia Greenberg, Dr. Bennefield's office manager."

"Hello, Ms. Greenberg," I replied, trying to at least be civil if not enthusiastic.

"Would it be possible for you to come by Dr. Bennefield's office today at 10 a.m.? I have your records prepared for you to pick up."

I didn't recall asking Dr. Bennefield's secretary for copies of my records before leaving his office. Then again, my mind wasn't exactly hitting on all its cylinders when my appointment ended.

"Um, sure," I answered.

"Fine, Mr. Connors. Please be here promptly at ten and ask the receptionist for me personally." She hung up before I could reply.

-Part 2-

My morning shower helped me to feel only slightly better than I had the day before. It did help clear my mind, though.

Promptly at 10 a.m. I approached the receptionist in Dr. Bennefield's office and announced my appointment with Ms. Greenberg. Marcia Greenberg appeared a moment after the receptionist contacted her on the intercom. 

"Please come this way, Mr. Connors," she invited as she led me into an office. Once we were inside she closed the door.

"Mr. Connors, Dr. Bennefield does not know you are here. Nor does he know I am giving you a copy of your records. I would very much appreciate it if you did not discuss our visit with him."

It was an unusual request, but before I could respond, she continued.

"Dr. Bennefield gave me your file to archive. After looking at it and seeing all you've been through, I'd like to suggest that you contact Dr. Lorraine Theriault. Before she earned her masters and doctorate degrees in clinical psychology, Lorraine and I worked together as psychiatric and mental health nurses. She has kept her PMHN certification up to date. She doesn't discuss her patients with me, but from what she has said, I gather she's had some success with difficult cases. Based on what I read in your file and what I know about Dr. Theriault, I thought perhaps she could help you."

My anger surfaced. "Look, Ms. Greenberg, I've pretty much had it with doctors, including your Dr. Bennefield. I'm not exactly eager to spend a lot of time and money with another one, only to hear the same crap and be disappointed again." 

"Mr. Connors, believe me, I do understand your frustration. The choice is entirely yours, of course, but I know Lorraine. She is likely to know during your first visit or two whether she will be able to help you or not. She will tell you in no uncertain terms if she can't. If she concludes she can't help you, she won't lead you on. Besides, you have a lot to gain and nothing other than an hour or so to lose. In any case, I don't want you to feel like I'm pressuring you. Take your records. I've included her telephone number. If you don't want to do anything further, well, just file or shred everything. It's your choice. But again, I'd ask that you not reveal our conversation to Dr. Bennefield. He is not referring you to Dr. Theriault, and he would strongly disapprove of my discussing this with you."

Ms. Greenberg seemed sincerely interested. Without giving her any indication of my intentions, I assured her our conversation would be kept confidential. I then thanked her and left.

As I drove back to my apartment, I mulled over Ms. Greenberg's words. She seemed genuinely concerned about trying to help me. There had been no mockery or condescension in her voice. What harm would it do to contact this Dr. Theriault?

The half hour drive home gave my thoughts clarity, though not necessarily hope. I made a cup of tea, then opened the envelope containing the accumulated medical and psychological information about my impotence. The first page had a sticky note with Dr. Theriault's name and telephone number.

Oh, what the hell. I picked up my cordless phone and called.

"Hello, this is Lorraine Theriault." 

I paused, listening for the rest of the automated attendant message.

"Hello? Is someone there?" the woman's voice asked.

"Um, yes. This is Tom Connors. I'm calling for Dr. Theriault, please."

"This is Lorraine Theriault, Mr. Connors." This time I heard what sounded like a French accent, slight but distinctive.

"Oh, I'm sorry for the hesitation. I was expecting to get a receptionist or an answering machine. Anyway, I was referred to you by Marcia Greenberg. I have a condition..."

She cut me off.

"Mr. Connors, Marcia told me you might be contacting me. I'd prefer to discuss this with you in person rather than over the telephone. Could you be at my office this afternoon at 3 p.m.?"

"Today?" I asked. I had been expecting to hear the usual, "The next available appointment will be in six months..."

"Yes, of course. Today. If that's not convenient, then please give me a time that would suit you."

"No, today at three will be fine. Thank you."

She gave me a street address, asked if I could find it, then repeated the time and place for my appointment. Before hanging up, she reminded me to bring the records Ms. Greenberg had so thoughtfully provided.

Though her manner had been professional bordering on abrupt, I had an odd sense of reassurance. Maybe this time...

-Part 3-

Promptly at 2:55 p.m. I parked my car in front of the address Dr. Theriault had provided. It appeared to be a large private residence in a residential community, not a business address. The large yard was fenced. There was no sign announcing her practice. Wondering if I had incorrectly copied the address, I walked to the front door and rang the doorbell.

There was a moment's pause, then the door opened. 

"Hello, my name is Tom Connors. I'm here to see..."

"I'm Lorraine Theriault, Mr. Connors. Please come with me."

No warm smile and handshake. No small talk. The woman's demeanor and attire exuded icy professionalism. She appeared to be in her forties, but my guestimate of her age was based on her stylishly silvered shoulder-length hair. She was wearing dark gray pantsuit over a white turtleneck shirt. Her face, well, I couldn't really see her face as she walked quickly toward what I presumed would be her office. 

I followed obediently.

We entered a modestly furnished room containing only her desk, its chair, an old leather upholstered stuffed chair, and a few plants and knick-knacks. There was nothing on her desk. Nothing, no notepad, not even a telephone. The pictures hanging on the wall could have come from the sale bin at K-Mart. 

She immediately sat in the old swivel chair behind her desk and motioned for me to sit in the only chair remaining in the room. I placed my envelope of records on her desk. She made no move to open it.

"Thank you for seeing me so quickly, Dr. Theriault." I offered to start the conversation. For the first time I really saw her face. She was probably in her late forties, gold wire frame glasses on a somewhat narrow, almost angular face. She watched me with penetrating brown eyes that showed no emotion. Stern, like a prim schoolteacher. It occurred to me that if she smiled she would either be attractive or her face would shatter and fall to the floor.

"You're welcome, Mr. Connors," she answered. No smile.

"I should probably explain my problem..."

"Before you do, Mr. Connors, we need to come to an understanding. If I agree to take you as a client, I will expect you to be completely open and truthful with me. I will ask you for information that will be highly personal and probably very embarrassing for you to reveal. But if I am to help you help yourself, you will have to get past the inclination to hold back."

Client? Don't most doctors refer to patients as, well, patients? She didn't wait for me to ask.

"There is no guarantee that I will be able to help you, Mr. Connors. If I can't, I'll tell you. There are some things you should know. My methods of diagnosis and treatment are personalized for each of my clients. I am not highly regarded by my American peers, because my methods are my own. I do not exploit my clients by publishing papers in journals no one can understand and few read anyway. Consequently, my methods may not be peer reviewed and approved. That's the way I want it, so I must insist that your visits with me remain between us. You are not to discuss them with anyone, nor will I without your explicit consent. I will not administer or prescribe any medications whatsoever. I'm not a medical doctor. I am not going to try and sell you any appliances or devices or herbs or other such nonsense. My only interest is working with you to identify and correct whatever condition you're here to discuss. I do not want you to even tell anyone that I am working with you, nor do I want you to refer anyone to me. Again I must stress that I will not betray your confidence, and I expect that you will not betray mine. Are these conditions agreeable, Mr. Connors?"

"Dr. Theriault, I have some questions..."

"In due time, Mr. Connors. First, I must insist that either you agree to my conditions as I've stated them or you may leave. It's your choice."

I stared at her wondering exactly what to say. As brusque and rigid as she was, I had an uncharacteristically odd feeling of hope. The other doctors had been almost too quick to give me false hopes and reassurances. Dr. Theriault was just the opposite. Maybe she could help, but goodness only knows why I could possibly feel like that. 

"All right, Dr. Theriault, I agree to your conditions."

In an eye blink, an instant, the iceberg disappeared. The room seemed to warm and brighten. She smiled not just with her mouth but with her eyes. 

"Thank you, Mr. Connors. Please call me Lorraine. You're entitled to an explanation. You've just heard 'the talk'. I assure you, it wasn't pleasant for me either, but people sometimes come in with unreasonable expectations that have been generated and promoted by my peers." 

There was again that hint of disdain when she said 'peers.'

She continued, "I don't like it when supposed professionals build people's hopes up, then dash them, then build them up again."

"Dr. Theriault..."

"Lorraine. Please."

"All right, Lorraine. You referred to me as a client rather than a patient. Why?" I had to ask.

"Because 'patient' suggests you have some physical malady or condition, and I doubt that you're sick. From what little information Marcia gave me, and believe me, she didn't betray any confidences at all when she called, I suspect you've been given a clean bill of health by physicians."

I nodded agreement.

"So that leaves us working together to try and resolve whatever your reason is for being here. Why don't you start by telling me what you hope I'll be able to help you resolve?"

My recitation about my impotence lasted half an hour or so. She took no notes, just listened attentively and without interruption. 

"All right, Mr. Connors. May I please call you Tom?"

"Sure." 

"All right, Tom. Here's how I'd like us to proceed. I'd like a day to review the information you've brought. Today is Tuesday. Would your schedule allow you to return some time this week?"

"Yes, I'm in graduate school. I don't have classes either Thursday morning or Friday afternoon."

"Fine, I'd like to meet with you again on Thursday at 9 a.m." 

We continued to talk for another fifteen minutes. She spoke of her education in France, and then her decision to come to the United States to pursue a nursing career. She had decided to specialize in psychiatric nursing but at the urging of her employers, had gone on to get advanced degrees in clinical and cognitive psychology. I told her a bit more about myself and provided her with my medical insurance information. Then she arose, so I knew our meeting had ended. I had an odd feeling of reassurance but cautioned myself that I'd had a similar feeling with other doctors. 

-Part 4-

Thursday morning I returned to her office. This time she greeted me more warmly, and she was wearing a stylish calf-length dress and boots. She did not take me to the sterile office I had first visited. Instead we went into a room more resembling a warm den than an office. After I politely declined her offer of water or tea or juice, she began.

"Tom, as we discussed Tuesday, I've reviewed your file. Not surprisingly, you seem to be in excellent physical condition. That's probably due in part to your being on the university's swim team for four years. I was also not surprised to see that none of the medical doctors, including Dr. Bennefield, seemed to have any frank sexual discussions with you. Is my analysis accurate?"

"Yes, that's pretty accurate. That's probably as much my fault as..."

"No, it wasn't your fault, Tom." Her interruption was neither harsh nor condescending. "It was their job to help identify whatever it was that seems to be preventing your sustaining an erection for intercourse. They know how to ask the right questions, but they just didn't do it. I would apologize for them, but there's no excuse for what they didn't do. When we first met, I told you that I expected you to be forthcoming with me, to not hold anything back. That's very important, Tom. Please do not think you're going to shock me or that I will disapprove of what you might say. I know it won't be easy for you to do that, but please do your best."

I was blushing a bit, wondering if she really meant what she said. We would find out soon enough.

"Tom, I sense that you are a little uncomfortable talking about sexual behavior. If so, you're not alone. American culture discourages open discussions about sex, its pleasures, its pains, and its embarrassments. We teach that sex is supposed to be private, typically between a husband and wife. And even in marriage, our culture implies strongly that some sexual practices even between a husband and wife are wrong. The American culture, primarily because of its media's treatment of sexuality, sets artificially high and unattainable expectations for sexual performance. It is no wonder that with all the confusing signals American culture sends, particularly during a child's formative years, children go through puberty and become adults struggling with their sexuality."

When I didn't respond, she continued.

"Tom, when was the first time you showed a girl your penis?"

The room quickly reached surface-of-the-sun temperatures. At least, that's how I felt.

"I... I..."

"Tom, just tell me in your own words. I'm not going to ridicule you." The sincerity in her voice was reassuring. 

"Well, I don't really remember how old I was. It was probably when I was in kindergarten or first grade. I was playing outside our house with Ruthie, the girl who lived across the street. She was a year older than me, I think. Anyway, I told her I had to go inside and pee. She said something like I should just pee against the tree in our yard, so I did. Ruthie stood and watched. I don't remember if I had finished or not, but Mother came running out of the house, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me into the house. She spanked me, hard. She told me I was bad for peeing outside and for showing my penis to Ruthie. I didn't understand what was so bad about what I had done, but I do now."

"Why do you think what you did was so bad, Tom?"

"I exposed myself to a girl."

"Tom, at five or six years old even the most mature children do not impute anything sexual in what you did. You didn't understand and neither did Ruthie. You were both engaging in very normal pre-pubescent behavior. There was nothing sexual about it. It was childlike curiosity and behavior. Nothing more."

We continued to talk for the better part of an hour. Nothing really sexual, just about my family and home life. At the end of the hour, Dr. Theriault asked if I could return the next day, Friday, at 2 p.m. I agreed. This day had been uncomfortable yet the reassurance was still there. I found myself actually looking forward to the next day's appointment, a feeling I'd not had with any other doctors.

-Part 5-

After my Friday morning class, I showered before driving to Dr. Theriault's office. When she opened the door to greet me, her smile was warm, inviting, and calming. This time she took my hand and led me to her office. Her hand was warm.

"Tom, I am very pleased with the way you've opened up to me. I know talking about sexuality makes you a bit uncomfortable, but you've shown a remarkable willingness to make the effort to give me complete answers. Today, I'd like to talk with you about your masturbation habits."

She obviously knew the effect her directness would have on me, so before I could say anything, she continued.

"We all masturbate, Tom. I do. You do. Everyone who has any sexual urges masturbates. It's perfectly natural and probably physically and behaviorally the safest form of sexual behavior. It allows us to relieve our sexual tensions when no partner is available. Mutual masturbation allows partners to sexually satisfy each other when intercourse is not possible or not desired. Though people sometimes hesitate to admit it, in some circumstances masturbation can be more satisfying than intercourse with a partner. Masturbation is a normal part of human sexual responses."

Her words sounded right, but I was still uneasy. She noticed.

"Tom, do you recall when you first started masturbating?"

"Yeah, I guess I was in the seventh or eighth grade. I liked photography, and a lot of the photography magazines had nude women models. My parents thought it was neat that I was so interested in photography. But at night I'd lie in bed and look at the pictures of the nude women and jack off. I mean, masturbate. Sorry Doctor."

"It's perfectly all right to use common sexual terms like 'jack off,' Tom. You don't need to apologize. And please, I'm Lorraine, not 'doctor.' So you first started masturbating while you were looking at pictures of women models. I assume they were posed artistically rather than sexually?"


A Gift in Disguise Ch. 01



I nodded.

"So did you ever buy copies of sexually provocative magazines like Playboy or Penthouse?"

"No, mom and dad wouldn't allow them in the house. Besides, it was a small town, and none of the stores had them. I never even saw Playboy until I went to a friend's house. He had the centerfold pictures up on his bedroom wall."

"How often did you masturbate in high school, Tom?"

"Every day, sometimes twice a day. Whenever I felt like it and could be alone."

"So you never masturbated with other boys around?"

"No."

"And you never masturbated in a public place, especially where a girl might see you?"

"No."

"And you always just used magazines to stimulate you?"

"Yeah. Well, no, not exactly. Sometimes I used to fantasize about having sex with the girls in my high school."

"Of course you did. Youíre a good looking man. You were probably as attractive to them in high school as you are now. My guess is that some of them were having similar fantasies about being with you. Although with girls that age, it may have been a more emotional than physical attraction. Were your fantasies limited to the girls you saw every day at school?"

"Pretty much. There was this woman about my mother's age that I thought about."

"Tell me about her, Tom."

"Well, she was about mom's age or maybe a little older. She was really pretty and had a real nice figure. Always wore makeup and nice clothes. She had two son, both older than me, in high school. Anyway, she and her husband would sometimes come to our house after dinner to talk about neighborhood issues with my parents and our neighbors. They would meet in our living room, and I'd be in my room studying. 

I happened to look out one night and saw this lady, Sharon, sitting across from my bedroom door. She was wearing a skirt that came up above her knees, and she was wearing stockings. I could look right up her skirt. That really turned me on. It was kind of strange at the time."

"What was strange about it, Tom?"

"The very first night that happened, she caught me looking up her skirt. I figured she'd tell mom and I'd get in trouble. But that didn't happen. Not only that, every time they'd come back for another meeting, she'd wear a skirt and sit in exactly the same chair. I'd look out, look up her skirt for a while, she'd see me and smile, and I'd quietly close my bedroom door and jack off thinking about her."

"It sounds to me like she was encouraging you to look."

"Yeah, she was," I said emphatically.

"You seem pretty sure of that. How do you know?"

"Because during the summer between high school and my first year of college, her boys invited me to spend a Saturday water skiing and swimming at their lake place. I showed up at their cabin, but only Sharon was there. She said her husband and the boys had gone across the lake for ice cream but would be back before long. She was wearing a one-piece swimsuit with a wraparound skirt, and I started getting turned on. 

We started talking, and eventually she mentioned seeing me looking up her skirt. Well, I was pretty embarrassed, but she said not to worry, that she was actually flattered that a good looking young man thought her legs were pretty. I was kind of tongue-tied and didn't say anything. Then she asked if Iíd like to get a better look at her legs. 

She didn't wait for me to answer. She stood up and peeled off the wraparound skirt. She was standing in front of me with only her swimsuit on. She really had a great body for someone her age. Well, I started getting a hard-on. Sorry about the language."

"Don't worry about your language, Tom. Go on, please."

"Okay. She said that since she had shown me her body, I should show her mine. She asked if I had my swimsuit on under my pants, and when I said I did, she started taking off first my shirt, then my pants. I was left standing in front of her in my tight swimsuit and nothing else to hide my erection."

"So what happened then, Tom?"

"She said something like, 'Why, Tom. Am I causing that?' and she stared right at the bulge in my swimsuit. Then she said, 'That must be awfully uncomfortable. Why don't you take off your swimsuit?' I didn't do anything, so she walked over to me and just pulled my trunks down. My cock ... I mean, my penis..."

A dismissive wave from her hand reminded me to use my own words.

"Anyway, my cock popped straight out in front of her face. I didn't quite know what to do, but she reached out and started handling my cock and my balls. Then she stepped back and said, 'You know, Tom, since you don't have anything on, it's only fair that I shouldn't either.' Then she peeled off her swimsuit. I thought I was going to cum right then and there. She had really nice breasts and full hips and a really nice hairy pussy."

I glanced at Dr. Theriault to see if she would rebuke me for my crude language. She didn't bat an eye, so I guessed I could go on.

"Sharon asked me if I liked what I saw, and I just nodded. My mouth was too dry to say anything. She laughed. With two boys of her own, she probably knew exactly how I felt with my cock bobbing up and down. 

Then she just walked over to me and started kissing me and rubbing her body all over against mine. I could feel her nipples rubbing against my chest. She kissed me really hard, so I kissed her back just as hard. She was straddling my upper thigh, and I could feel her rubbing her pussy up and down on it. She seemed to really enjoy that. She kept humping my leg harder and faster. Then she started gasping and dug her fingernails into my back.

I pushed her toward the couch. When I did that she said she really got turned on by a man who knew what he wanted and wouldn't stop until he got it. She draped one of her legs over the back of the couch so I could see her pussy opening better. Well, by then I was ready to fuck her, so I got on top of her and started to put my cock into her. 

Just then, there was a loud roar outside. It was their boat's engine. Her husband and boys were back from getting ice cream. She pushed me off and said, 'Shit! They're back. Get dressed. Quick!' We both got our clothes back on just before they came inside."

"So if they had not returned, it's likely you would have fucked her? Is that right, Tom?"

I was surprised at how naturally Dr. Theriault said 'fuck.' 

"I never really thought about that, but yeah, I guess."

"And that happened during the summer between high school and college, right?"

"Um-hm."

"Let's go back a little bit. How old were you when you first started dating?"

It took a long time for me to answer.

"I never really dated much until my senior year in high school. See, I was kind of the brain, not really the jock type the girls wanted to be with."

"How did you come to that conclusion, Tom?"

"I don't know. That's just the way it seemed to me."

"All right. So in your senior year you started to date a bit more?"

"Yeah. I kind of liked this one girl in my class. She was smart, pretty in a nice sort of way. Very nice. She didn't date much, either. Her father was the pastor at our church. Mom and dad wanted me to date her. I guess they thought she was safe, that she wouldn't encourage me sexually. Boy, were they wrong."

"How were they wrong, Tom?"

"Well, she and I had just turned 18, so I already had my drivers license. The first time we dated was to go to a school dance. I picked her up, we went to the dance, and I took her home. Nothing happened. Not even a goodnight kiss. I did ask her if she'd like to go to a movie some time. She said she would. She said a movie she really wanted to see was coming to the drive-in in Wilsonville next week. Wilsonville was 20 miles away, but I asked her to go with me if I could get the car. I went home and asked dad if I could take her, and he said I could."

"Go on."

"The next Friday night I picked her up and we drove to the drive-in theater. The parking lot lights went down and the cartoon came up on the screen. She scooted over next to me and put her head on my shoulder. I was a little surprised, but I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her even closer. When the movie started, she reached up, put her hand on my cheek, and turned my head toward her. Then she kissed me. Then I kissed her back. Harder. Before long, we had forgotten about the movie and were kissing like crazy. I felt her push her tongue between my lips and into my mouth. It felt good, so I did the same thing to her. I felt my cock getting hard. Then she put her hand on it and started rubbing it through my pants. That made it real hard. She seemed to like that, so she kept rubbing while we kissed. I started to put my left hand on her breast, but she gently pushed it away. She said, 'Not yet', but she kept kissing and rubbing me. Then she asked me, 'Are you close?' I said, 'Close to what?', and she said, 'Close to cumming, silly,' with a little giggle. I said I was. Then she stopped rubbing me, unfastened my belt, released the clasp on my pants, and unzipped them. She reached into my pants, took hold of my cock, and pulled it out. I was a little scared that someone might see us. She reached for a blanket in the back seat and put it over us so no one could see what was going on under the blanket. Well, I figured maybe she was going to jack me off, but she didn't. Instead, we kept kissing each other, getting hotter and hotter. Then she took my hand and put it back on her breast. I unbuttoned her blouse and slipped my hand inside it. She said, 'Wait a sec.' Then she slipped away from me, took her blouse off, and removed her bra. I just stared at her tits...I mean, her breasts, under the blanket."

"Tom, I'm familiar with 'tits.' I have two of them."

"She scooted back next to me and put my left hand on her right breast. Her nipple was real hard. We kept kissing, I played with her tit, and she played with my cock. All of this was going on under the blanket. I was about ready to cum. I guess she was, too, because she was breathing a lot harder now. Then she took my hand from her breast and put it down on her thigh just below her skirt. While we were kissing, I moved my hand up to her underpants. I started rubbing her the same way she had been rubbing me. We were still kissing and stuff, and she was rubbing her tits against me now, and her hand was still trying to stroke my cock. Then a funny thing happened. She started talking real dirty to me."

"How do you mean 'dirty,'Tom? What was she saying?"

"Things like, 'Rub my pussy faster, Tommy! Make me cum for you!' She said it again and again. I never thought the pastor's daughter would say something like that."

"And..."

"And she kept stroking my cock. Now she was pumping it really hard. I just kind of slipped my hand up under her panties and felt her pussy. It was wet and warm, and real hairy. I wasn't quite sure what to do. She must have sensed that, because she said something like, 'Put your finger inside me, baby, like it was your cock.' I did. It felt like one of those Chinese finger trap puzzles when she clamped down around my finger. I slipped it in and out of her wet pussy. She started moaning, pretty loud actually, telling me to fuck her and make her cum. We were still trying to kiss, and she was stroking me, but it was pretty awkward. I started saying dirty things to her, and when I did, she really started humping against my hand and stroking me. 

It didn't take long. I came first, real hard, shooting my cum all over the underside of the blanket that was covering us. I felt her bucking against my hand. Her face was all tight and pinched, then she just gave out a loud long growl, and collapsed back into the seat. We were both gasping for breath. We waited until we had caught our breath. Then she pulled several tissues from the box in the back seat and used them to clean me off and clean my cum off the blanket and off my pants. I started getting hard again when she was cleaning me off. I told her I'd really like to fuck her, but she said no, that she wanted to be a virgin when she got married. But she let me feel her tits again, and she did jack me off again."

"So how many dates did you have with Linda where you and she mutually masturbated each other?" 

"Quite a few. Then she started dating a college student that she knew. They got married within a year I think."

"Tom, if she would have let you, do you think you could have fucked her?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, each time I was rock hard and ready to fuck her silly. Oops, sorry Lorraine."

"You don't have to apologize for using sexually explicit language with me, Tom. I'm completely sure you don't use it in social settings where it would be inappropriate, but it is perfectly appropriate here. In fact, I think it's quite therapeutic for you. That's part of your opening up to me. Please use the words that are easy for you to use, and don't worry about making me uncomfortable.

So in a fairly short period of time, you and Linda mutually masturbated at least five times. And am I correct in assuming you both enjoyed it?"

"Oh, yeah, for sure." I answered.

"Tell me, Tom, were you ever nervous about letting her see your cock and stroke it?"

"Maybe the first time, yeah. But she really seemed to enjoy it, especially when I would cum hard. And I know we both were satisfied when I rubbed her pussy. So after being a little shy or modest or something the first time, it didn't bother me at all. Actually, I looked forward to it."

"But you never tried to force her to let you fuck her, right?"

"No. It's not that I didn't want to; I did. And I tried to persuade her to let me, but she really didn't want to. Since we were both having such a good time masturbating each other, I didn't want to spoil that. Neither did she."

"So Linda seemed to enjoy having you masturbate her. I'm curious, Tom. How exactly were you doing it? What was your technique that was so satisfying to her?"

I felt my face getting hot again, and Dr. Theriault noticed.

"Don't be embarrassed, Tom. It sounds as if you were doing something that really pushed her buttons and sexually satisfied her. That's important. It sounds like you are sexually unselfish. So what exactly did you do to her?"

"Well, she helped at first. She told me to slow down and just touch around her pussy lightly. She said not to rub her too hard. There was this one time when instead of my touching her clit, I just pressed her own pussy lips tight around it. She came so fast and so hard when I did that I thought I had hurt her. I hadn't, though. After that, that's how she wanted me to jerk her off -- by pushing her skin tight around her clit and then moving my hand from side to side and up and down just a little. I didn't even have to touch her clit myself. She was doing something at the same time with some muscles in her pussy..."

"They're the pubococcygeal muscles, sometimes called the Kegel muscles, Tom. What she was doing was using her Kegels to increase the friction on her clit. She was actually helping you jerk her off, and she was increasing her own pleasure at the same time. It is a very effective way for a woman to help her partner satisfy her without actually penetrating her. When I use a vibrator dildo, I use my Kegels to grip it. I come much harder that way."

The look on my face when she talked about using a dildo may have amused Dr. Theriault.

"What, Tom? Does it bother you to think that I actually use a dildo sometimes for sexual pleasure?" 

The way she asked did not suggest she had been offended. 

"Um, no, not exactly. To tell you the truth, Doc..."

"Please, Tom ... Lorraine."

"Actually, Lorraine, it kind of turns me on."

"Well, thank you, Tom," she said sincerely. "It's nice to know I can still excite a virile young man. And I'm very happy you can communicate so honestly with me. So, is there anything else you would like to tell me about your masturbation sessions with Linda?"

I thought for a while, then said, "Well, there was something kind of strange happened the very last time we were together." 

I paused, not sure if I really should go on. Dr. Theriault didn't wait.

"What was so strange, Tom?"

"Well, we had been kissing and stuff, and I put my finger up her pussy like I had done before. But this time I touched her clit with the tip of my thumb, sort of like I was trying to touch the tip of my middle finger with it. Just at that instant, she was still jerking me off, I came real, real hard."

"And..."

"Her eyes flew open, and she started thrashing around real hard. Then she started screaming real loud. I thought I had hurt her, so I stopped, but she just glared and me and begged me not to stop. So I did it all over again. She must have cum three or four times in just a couple of minutes. Finally her body just went limp. I thought she had passed out or even died or something. It even seemed like she stopped breathing. I kind of tried to wake her up, you know, by shaking her a little. She opened her eyes and began breathing real hard. Then she got kind of a peaceful but questioning look on her face. When she finally got her breath back enough to talk, she said that she had never felt an orgasm like that before. I asked her if she wanted me to do it again, and she said she didn't think she had the strength for it. She was exhausted, she didn't even have the strength to jack me off again. She just wanted to watch me do myself, so I did."

"And whatever you did that time with Linda -- have you ever used the same technique with any other women, Tom?"

"No, it kind of scared me. I mean, I really thought she might die."

For the first time, Dr. Theriault looked a little puzzled and didn't have a ready explanation.

We talked for a while longer. She asked me to recount other instances when I had tried to penetrate a woman but had been unable to. She elicited that in each case the woman had been less than encouraging. She also suggested that my being a gentleman and stopping when a woman said "no" was perfectly acceptable behavior. Her thought was that I might have been hypersensitive to being rebuked by the women if I had been just a little more assertive. When she explained it the way she did, it didn't sound quite so hopeless.

"Tom, I really want to thank you for being so open with me. I think we should stop for today. Can you come back next Thursday morning?"

"Sure."

"I don't want to get your hopes up, but it seems to me that you have all it takes to complete intercourse with a woman. What we need to do is figure out how we can break down whatever barrier is inhibiting you. The tests I plan to do next Thursday and the following Thursday should help immensely with that. I have some homework for you to do before next Thursday."

"Homework?" 

"Yes, starting tomorrow I would like for you to masturbate at least twice daily. I want you to masturbate at least once on Thursday morning before you get here."

She said it as dispassionately as if she was telling me to read three chapters in an English literature book. 

"There's more," she continued. "I want you to keep a diary with some information about each masturbation session."

She obviously saw the look of alarm on my face.

"Tom, don't worry. I will be the only one to see it. With each day, you'll need to include the time you masturbated and the duration of each session. In other words, what time did you start and how long did you jack off before you came. I also need some details about your source of stimulation. Were you reading a magazine, watching a video, or fantasizing. If you were fantasizing about having sex with a particular person, include who the person is and an explanation about what attracts you to that person. Finally, Tom, I need you to rate the intensity of your orgasm on a scale of one to ten with ten being the strongest. I know this will be difficult for you, Tom, but it is very important to help me understand what arouses you."




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 01



With some lingering reluctance about keeping the diary, I agreed and left. As I walked to my car, it seemed odd that I had been able to talk so openly with a relative stranger about how I masturbated. None of the previous doctors had discussed my sexual development and responses as openly as Lorraine. And while I continued to walk, I found myself actually getting aroused at the possibility of sharing my sexual thoughts with her. I hoped it was a sign of progress.

-Part 6-

My university class work the following week suffered as it was quite difficult for me to concentrate on it. I wondered what the good doctor had in store for me on Thursday with her tests.

As usual, she greeted me at the door for our Thursday appointment. She was wearing a white lab coat that fell well below her knees. She led me to her office where we usually talked. I felt quite comfortable.

"Tom, these last few sessions have given me a great deal of insight into your condition. I suspect you're more interested in resolving it than in understanding it. Am I correct?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"All right then. First, did you follow my instructions about preparing for today?"

"Yes, I did just what you said. Here's the information you wanted me to write down. I hope it's okay that I just wrote it on notebook paper and stapled the sheets together?" I handed the sheets to her.

"Of course, Tom." She briefly flipped through the several pages of notes, though she only scanned them. "Good. Thank you for including so much detail. I'll study them carefully after today's session. 

Now, Tom, you've probably heard of the polygraph, right? It's sometimes called a lie detector."

Lie detector? Does she think I'm making this stuff up?

"Yeah, a little bit I guess. Why?" My tone was obviously defensive.

"In simple terms, the polygraph measures involuntary physiological responses to external stimuli, carefully worded questions posed by an examiner. It measures blood pressure, heart rate, respiratory rate, and galvanic skin response. Different external stimuli cause involuntary changes in these conditions, and the polygraph records these changes. The operator interprets the changes.

I've added a penile plethysmograph sensor to the conventional computerized polygraph's sensors. Have you ever heard of a penile plethysmograph, Tom?"

"No."

"It was originally designed to measure male erectile responses to stimuli. A small pressure tube is fitted around the penis. Once it's in place, it's zeroed for the amount of pressure or tumescence normally present without external stimulation. When the male subject becomes sexually aroused, there is increased blood flow to his penis. This causes an enlargement in the penis' circumference. The plethysmograph translates even the slightest increase in tumescence into an electrical signal which is recorded on the polygraph. Have I completely lost you?"

"No, it basically measures changes in erection."

"That's exactly what it does, Tom. I believe that changes in blood pressure, heart rate, breathing rate, and skin electrical conductivity may also be indicators of increased sexual arousal. I've rewritten the computerized polygraph program so that instead of displaying each sensor's output as a separate line, the various outputs have been mathematically combined so they are displayed on the chart as just one line. It's a composite display of each subject's sexual response to each stimulus.

I would like to use my modified polygraph to identify what sexually stimulates you. Would you be willing to do that?"

"Why do you think that will help me?" I asked.

"I think that knowing what arouses you the most will help you put yourself in situations where you are most likely to be sexually satisfied rather than frustrated. I suspect it will help you select sexual partners who are more aligned with your own sexual wishes and desires."

"Well, I guess I've come this far, there's no reason not to at least give it a try."

"Good. Let me explain how we'll proceed. I'm going to use this model to show you how to install the plethysmograph cuff on your penis."

She reached into her desk drawer and withdrew an amazingly lifelike replica of a flaccid penis. It had some wires and a tube coming from in back. 

"The reason you need to install the cuff yourself, Tom, is that if I handle your penis, you will become prematurely aroused before the test begins. As I said, the plethysmograph was originally designed to graph male sexual arousal. However I've modified this dildo to allow it to measure women's sexual arousal as well. This model penis is what I would insert into a woman's vagina to measure her sexual responses. The wires connect to the polygraph and the tube allows me to inflate the penis to varying lengths and hardness of erection."

She showed me how to install the cuff on the model, then she handed me the model and the cuff so I could practice. The replica penis was so lifelike I was embarrassed to even handle it. When she was satisfied that I could properly install it, she explained how the test would be conducted.

"You'll be seated in a comfortable reclining chair in a room. You'll be wearing headphones with a small microphone. I'll connect the various sensors, then leave the room. I will not be able to see you during the test, however we will be able to communicate via intercom through the headset and microphone. You'll also hear some sounds that accompany various images on the screen. Some of the images will have no sexual content at all. Others will be explicitly sexual. And Tom, I must tell you that you may be highly offended by some of the images and sounds. 

Some of the scenes are of relatively poor quality. They came from various sources. None of the people appearing are professional models or actors. They agreed to allow me to use videos they made themselves or videos they allowed me to make. Their responses in the videos are genuine. Nothing in the scenes you will see has been staged for me. Again, Tom, some of what you see may offend or repulse you, because the scenes are real.

Here's the important thing: Please do not do anything to suppress what you're feeling about the images and sounds. Focus on them, not on how your responses are being recorded and analyzed. In short, it's important that your involuntary responses be truly involuntary. 

Also, Tom, it's very important that you not touch your penis during the session. You will probably become aroused and have a strong urge to masturbate, but don't. If you touch yourself, it will affect the validity of the measurements.

Do you have any questions about the test procedure?"

"No, I guess not."

"All right, Tom. After the test has concluded, I'm going to let you sit and relax alone for a few minutes. Please keep the headset on during that time. I'll tell you before I reenter the room. If you want some more time to recover, just tell me. Okay?"

"Sure." 

"After I've disconnected the sensors, you can go back into the dressing room, remove the penile sensor, and get dressed. Just leave the sensor in the dressing room. Come back in here, and we'll go to my office to talk briefly. Then we'll be through for the day."

She took me into another room. The room was maybe twelve feet square and had no windows. It was carpeted, comfortably warm, and had a recliner chair at one end facing a projection screen at the other end. There was a rolling metal tray stand next to the chair with the polygraph sensors connected to wires. It also had the headset and microphone. 

"Tom, this is where you'll be during the testing. I'll be in another room monitoring the polygraph and talking with you on an intercom. You'll be wearing a comfortable stereo headset so the only sounds you hear will be coming through them. Any outside noises that might leak into the room would distract you and affect the test results. I'm going to take you into a dressing room now and have you remove your shirt, trousers, and underwear if you're wearing any. You can leave your socks on. Put on the medical gown in the dressing room, and make sure the gown's opening is in front. Come back into this room when you're ready."

She took me to the dressing room. I stripped, put on the gown, and then walked back into the testing room. Dr. Theriault was there waiting for me.

"Tom, I'm going to step out of the room while you install the plethysmograph tube around your penis. Just let the wire come out the front of the gown. Then close your gown's opening. Once you've installed it, put on the headset and talk to me through the intercom. I'll come back in to attach the wiring from the sensors to the wiring harness."

I sat down and fumbled with the tube. It had gone on the replica penis fairly easily, but I had a little trouble with the real thing. Nerves, I guess. Finally I got it on and adjusted as she had instructed. I put the headset on.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Dr. Theriault came back in and hooked me up to the other sensors. She adjusted the recliner until I was at a comfortable angle for viewing the screen. Then she left the room.

A moment later I heard her voice in the headset.

"Are you comfortable, Tom?"

"As comfortable as I can be."

"All right. I'm going to play some calming sounds through your headset for a while to let the instrument stabilize and let your nerves calm down. Please keep watching the screen."

Apparently her machine could tell I was nervous, and I didn't think the sounds helped. The lights dimmed, and after about a minute, the pictures began. As she had said, some of the pictures and sounds were nonsexual, mostly nice natural scenes like one might see in a public television travelogue. Some of the pictures were nude males and females of varying ages in nonsexual situations, and some of the pictures and sounds showed those same males and females engaged in a variety of sexual activities, some heterosexual, some homosexual, some masturbatory. She was right. Some of the pictures, particularly those involving children, were nauseatingly repulsive. I fervently hoped she had obtained them from the police after the perverts had been sent to prison.

After about 45 minutes the screen faded to black and the room lights slowly came back up to normal. I was ready to be de-wired, but she had instructed me to relax for a few minutes so I did. It occurred to me that her machine should tell her when my erection had subsided.

"Tom, are you ready to get dressed?" she finally asked through the intercom.

"Yes, come on in."

"All right, Tom," she spoke as she removed all but the penile sensor. "Go on into the dressing room and get dressed. Just leave the sensor on the bench there. Then come back out here."

All in all, it had not been a bad experience, just a little weird, watching movies all wired up. I dressed and returned to the viewing room.

"Let's go in my office, Tom," she said as she led the way.

"So, did I pass or fail?" I asked trying to inject some humor to ease my discomfort. I guess I half-way expected her to start telling me what a pervert I was.

"It wasn't that kind of test, Tom," she answered patiently. "My instrument got excellent responses from all of the sensors. And I really want to commend you for not trying to suppress your responses. I can tell when someone is trying to conceal their true responses, but you were almost a perfect subject for testing. 

The only odd thing was that the sensor on your finger that detects galvanic skin response presented a very odd line. It's probably a minor adjustment or something. 

I know you're probably wondering what I learned from the results, but I'll need a couple days to study the charts. I don't like giving off-the-cuff opinions."

"Bad pun, Lorraine," I said lightly.

She looked at me curiously for just a second before she started to laugh. 

"Actually, Tom, that's very good. Cuff. I get it. And I'm very happy that you're finally calling me by my name. So ... I would like you to come back next Thursday, and I'll run almost this same test again if that's all right with you."

"Almost the same test?"

"Yes. The images will use different scenes, but the procedure will be the same. Well, almost the same. Given what you've told me, I doubt you're going to be happy to hear about the preparation for next week."

She paused, then smiled very warmly.

"You can't masturbate at all between now and your test next week."

"Not at all?"

"No, not at all. Cold showers, Tom. It's not as bad as it sounds. And there's a very good reason. I wanted you to be sexually depleted for the test this week. I want you sexually primed for the one next week. I want to see if your degree of sexual readiness, your state of arousal, has any effect on what it takes to stimulate you. I won't tell you what I expect, but please trust me. This is very important."

As quickly as she finished speaking, she arose, took my hand, and led me to the door. 

"Same time next week, Tom. And remember, no jerking off before then."

-Part 7-

It was hard. Not jerking off, I mean. Well, so was my cock. I had to wear loose pants to classes the entire week. It seemed like anything I looked at gave me a hard on. 

Finally Friday rolled around, and I proceeded to Lorraine's office. 

She was wearing the long white lab coat again. I could smell a hint of perfume. She might have worn the perfume during earlier visits and I just hadn't noticed. In my enhanced state of horniness, someone could have jammed a clove of garlic up my nose and I'd have gotten hard. The perfume was better than garlic. Subtle but highly arousing.

We spoke briefly as she led me to the test room as she had the week before. She reminded me of the test procedure. I went into the dressing room, disrobed, installed the tube on my cock, and put on that ugly hospital gown. Then I went back into the test room. As before, she installed all the hookups and left the room. I put on the headset, but instead of her voice, I heard the soft sounds. She let the sounds play until I was almost asleep, then she spoke.

"Tom, I'm ready to start the test."

With her subtle French accent her voice seemed sexier, softer, less clinical. I felt my cock twitch. I hoped I hadn't blown the test before it even started. The test proceeded as it had the previous week with innocuous images and sounds interspersed with sexual ones. This time some of the images and sounds were so arousing I almost orgasmed from the pressure of the tube. There was a brief familiarity about one of the women in the videos, but I never saw a clear picture of her face, and the only sounds she made were sexual noises. In one set of images she was with a male partner, and in another set she was with a female. 

Finally the screen went dark.

"Just relax for a few minutes, Tom," she said through the headset.

It took longer this time for my erection to subside. When it finally receded, I told Dr. Theriault she could come in. 

As before, she disconnected the wires and told me to get dressed, then we would meet to discuss the results. 

We went back into her office. She took off her white laboratory coat and hung it on a nearby coat rack. I was surprised, pleasantly, to see her wearing a stylish white short-sleeve blouse, a gray wool pinstripe skirt that stopped both modestly and enticingly just above her knee, and dark stockings. While her clothing would hardly be called provocative, my abstinence from sexual relief during the preceding week had reduced my time-required-to-reach-full-erection to milliseconds. She glanced and could hardly have avoided noticing the expanding bulge in my trousers.

She walked to her large desk. The top had been cleared of all the desk accessories, and there were three of her polygraph charts aligned across it.

"Tom, I'm generally pleased with your results. I went back over all your records of earlier visits with doctors, and of course, I reviewed the notes you made on your masturbatory habits." 

Before she could continue, I interrupted. 

"Lorraine, I really have to apologize for some of the stuff in those notes."

"Why, Tom? I didn't see anything in there you should apologize for? Are you referring to the notes you made the last three times you masturbated? The ones where I was the subject of your sexual fantasy? Because if that's what's concerning you, please put it out of your mind.

First of all, I appreciate your honesty in the notes. You could easily have lied and said you were using someone else. You didn't, and that tells me that you're committed to resolving your temporary impotence. 

Second, as a forty-nine-year-old woman I was extremely flattered that you found me sexually attractive. I haven't worn any particularly provocative clothing during our visits, so your attraction to me must have been based on something other than visual cues. 

Third, your notes were excellent. Very revealing, obviously very honest, and very helpful.

Now, let's move on to your test results today, shall we?

As expected, your erections were more intense and of longer duration today than last week. And your responses to various stimuli were consistent with last week's results."

She saw my distracted look. My gaze was fixed on the somewhat scooped neckline of her blouse, my imagination wandering to what might lie beneath it. She continued.

"That means you reacted to the same things this week as you did last week. Your responses this week were just stronger because of your abstinence from masturbation. I think some of what I'm going to tell you will be clearer if we look at the polygraph charts here."

I walked around her desk and stood beside her. She had positioned the second chart directly below the first, carefully aligning them using some tic marks on both sheets. She had aligned a third chart below the first two.

Standing beside her, I again caught the faint scent of the alluring perfume she wore. That didn't help my concentration, but it added to the hardness of my erection. I was becoming more distracted by my sexual attraction to her.

"All right, Tom, let me explain. As I said before, the top chart is from last week. The amplitude of the curves is an indicator of your arousal. The middle chart is the one we ran today. You probably didn't notice, but the theme of each scene you watched last week was exactly the same as the theme of each scene this week. The participants were different, but the scenes were in the same sequence. That was done intentionally to allow me to more easily align the charts for comparison. I've aligned the charts so the scenes coincide. The lines I've drawn in red mark the beginning and end of each scene. Now, let's compare your two charts...î

"What's the third chart, the bottom one?" I interrupted.

"I'll get to that soon. First, let me explain what your two charts show. Your charts were remarkably consistent in terms of what changed the intensity of your arousal. That's good. The only difference between last week's chart and this week's was that the amplitude, the intensity, of the arousal was stronger this week. That was completely expected, because after all, you haven't had any sexual relief for a week now."

She turned her head to the right and looked deeply into my eyes. Briefly, but just long enough. Then she went on.

"You showed some arousal to both women and men..."

That got my attention, and I shot an alarmed glance at her. She anticipated my question.

"No, Tom, you're not gay. At least, there's no sign of that in any of your tests. Men and women can both experience some level of arousal by members of their own gender. In fact, if you had been completely nonresponsive to some of the images of men, I would have been surprised. That you produced some physiological responses to some of the men is a sign of healthy sexuality. Your responses were more likely out of curiosity than genuine sexual desire to participate in homosexual behavior.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 01



You were also highly aroused by sexual contacts between women. In fact, your response to scene 10 with the two women was very intensive. If you had deeply unhealthy attitudes about same-sex contact, you would not have experienced the arousal you did. By the way, most heterosexual men are aroused by watching two or more women engaged in sexual contact."

She referred to her notes before continuing.

"Not that there was ever any concern about this, but you were completely repulsed by the sexual scenes involving children or teenagers who could be mistaken to be children. I apologize for having to show you those scenes, Tom, but it was necessary to identify what stimulates you sexually. I sometimes deal with sex offenders in my practice, and the courts have provided some evidence photos to let me measure registered offenders' arousal to children.

You are highly aroused by women wearing stockings and skirts. You might be surprised to know that you were sometimes more aroused by women who were clothed than women who were naked. That is not particularly remarkable except to note that your arousal factors are very consistent with those of other men. Sometimes the mystery of what is beneath the woman's clothing can be more arousing than blatant exposure.

You were highly aroused by women much older than you. Some of my Freudian peers would read more into that than warranted. It is more likely that you find the confidence of mature women to be sexually alluring. The older woman - younger man relationship has not been well-researched and reported simply because the culture too often treats those relationships as deviant rather than healthy. My own opinion is that if two people are sexually attracted to each other, their age difference should not be a factor.

What that means to you, Tom, is that you should not be shy about suggesting a sexual relationship with an older woman to whom you are attracted. If she's not interested, you will know it without being humiliated or ridiculed. Likewise, do not think too much if a mature woman seems to be sending signals that she's interested in you. Don't let your mind build a barrier that isn't and shouldn't be there. Go with what your intuition tells you."

When she looked directly at me, it wasn't my intuition reacting.

"Tom, you showed very high states of arousal when the images on the screen were women with visible underarm, leg, and pubic hair. Your reaction was age-independent. You may or may not have noticed, but the same participants appeared both shaven and unshaven but in different scenes. You consistently had a more intense sexual response to some of the unshaven women. Do you have any thoughts about what that means, Tom?"

"Kinda sick, huh?"

"Sick?" she responded with genuine surprise. "No, not at all. It just means that you can be highly aroused by women with some body hair. Based on your responses to the same models shaven and unshaven, I would be very comfortable saying that if you're already sexually attracted to a particular woman, that attraction to her may be increased when you find her body hair to be attractive. It's a preference, even a mild aphrodisiac, nothing more. Just like some people prefer small breasts to large or blondes to brunettes. There is nothing unhealthy or abnormal about your preference. And once again, it's mainly the American culture that has created a preference for shaven women. In Europe, particularly in the Mediterranean region but also in my home country, natural women are the norm, and shaven women the oddity. In Japan underarm and pubic hair is often unshaven except, of course, among women seeking to be seen as 'Westernized and modern.'

In one of our first meetings, Tom, I talked about the culture's effect on American's sexual behavior. Most of the western world has begun to 'market' shaven women as the standard. Western women have been led, I should really say misled, to believe that western men and women prefer their sex partners shaven. They have been told that sex, particularly oral sex, is better if their partner's pubic hair is removed. Removing pubic hair from both men and women has become a growth business in America. 

The reality, Tom, is that the few scientific comparisons that have been done tend to reveal that sexual pleasure, both homosexual and heterosexual, can be enhanced by the presence of visible body hair. That, of course, is only among people who haven't been commercially brainwashed into believing that if they pay for expensive cosmetic hair removal processes, their sexual pleasure will skyrocket. 

So no, Tom, having your sexual arousal strengthened by the presence of a partner's body hair is definitely not sick."

She returned her attention to the charts on the desk and resumed her analysis.

"You are also much more responsive to women who are vocally responsive during intercourse. That is an expected result. Their vocal expressions of satisfaction with the performance of their sexual partner are the kind of positive reinforcement you are seeking. Most people find their partner's vocalizations to be satisfying unless they are in a location where the sounds of sexual pleasure may attract unwanted attention.

You experienced reduced arousal when models were giving and receiving oral and anal sex. A few times when we were talking in the office, you used the word 'dirty' when describing some of your encounters. It is likely that early in your childhood, your parents, probably your mother, planted a thought in your mind that sexual contact was dirty. That was no doubt unintentional, but if that's what happened, and I do believe it was, then that would certainly explain a great deal about your negative reactions to oral and anal sex. By the way, that's not a suggestion that you need to change or even that you should try. That you prefer one or more styles of sexual contact over others is your own preference, nothing more, and other people's judgments about your preferences are quite irrelevant. 

While many women find it highly arousing to have their clit and labia licked gently by their partner's tongue, the fact is that a gentle finger touch and caress can be just as effective and arousing. It's more a matter of the technique than the instrument. You learned that yourself with Linda.

Finally, Tom, you responded very quickly and strongly to confident assertive women who sometimes took the lead in making sexual overtures. That is not at all surprising, given what you told me about your experiences with Linda in high school and Sharon at her family's lake cabin. You told me about a few other women whom you had been unable to penetrate. In each case you described their behavior in ways suggesting they projected indifference at best to your efforts. In one of the cases, you said the woman ridiculed you.

Tom, I know that I've hit you with a lot of information, and some of it made you uncomfortable. But now that you've heard all this, what do you think?"

What did I think? Geez, I was hoping she would tell me what it meant. And she's asking me to interpret all that?

She didn't speak. The silence was roaring in my ears. Finally, I decided to just say something, anything.

"I'm physically able to have intercourse, but sometimes my brain stops me?" 

"That is an excellent self-diagnosis. All I need to do is elaborate a bit on exactly what you said.

Quite literally, Tom, I believe you're thinking too much. Sexual intercourse, regardless of what form it takes and with whom, has physiological and behavioral components. They interact with each other. If one is going full speed ahead while the other is somewhere else, it is unlikely the outcome for you will be satisfying. For example, when you were at the lake cabin with Sharon, your physiological and emotional responses were synchronized with each other. Both of you were willing participants, eager to fuck. Your erection was sustained and you were eager, Sharon was ready and also eager, but suddenly her husband and son returned. Your mind's perception of danger overrode its ability to continue your sexual arousal. You quickly lost your focus on sex. If they had not returned, I am absolutely confident you would have completed intercourse with Sharon.

There's more to this, Tom. During childhood an aversion to healthy sexual development and activity was instilled in your mind. To some extent, you have already overcome that. You masturbate. You mutually masturbated with Linda in high school on several occasions until you both achieved orgasm. You were both satisfied with that physical relationship. You adjusted well to her rejection of full intercourse with you, and you continued a very healthy and pleasurable masturbatory relationship with her. In fact, I would suggest that once Linda made it clear that she would not let you fuck her, you both compensated by finding ways to achieve even greater satisfaction through mutual masturbation. Though you did not have intercourse, you had a healthy and quite satisfying sexual relationship with her. 

What I'm saying, Tom, is that you have already begun the steps necessary to overcome what you may believe to be an insurmountable challenge. To put it another way, you've already overcome the most difficult challenges. 

My advice to you is to simply be yourself. Don't be afraid to make sexual overtures toward women. Don't worry -- you won't overdo it. You won't come on too strong. You are fully able to understand when a woman does not want to have intercourse with you. You demonstrated that conclusively with Linda, and you adjusted remarkably better than most men would.

But you also need to understand that sometimes a woman's 'no' may really be 'not now' rather than 'no, never.' Believe me, you'll know a 'no, never' when you hear it. There won't be any doubt. In fact, you've already heard it in some of the women who rejected your advances. That you didn't force yourself on them is a sign that you know the boundaries of acceptable sexual conduct.

As your confidence increases and you become more appropriately aggressive, you will also become more skilled at reading women's signs of interest and disinterest toward you. Like any other skill, you will occasionally be incorrect. Trust me, the results won't be disastrous, just mildly embarrassing if that.

Have I overwhelmed you, Tom?" she asked with a warm smile. Again, her eyes locked onto mine. I was transfixed.

"Tom?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, it's just that you're telling me to do something I may not be comfortable doing."

"Well, yes, Tom, I understand, but nothing in life worth attaining comes without taking a certain amount of risk. Again, remember that having tentative sexual overtures rejected by a woman is not the same as having her accuse you of rape. Your overture needs to be clear enough that she knows youíre interested but subtle enough to let her gracefully accept or decline. If you handle it that way, both of you will feel far more comfortable. And remember, 'no' with a particular woman today may not mean 'no' forever from the same woman."

I paused to think about what she had said. Lorraine did not push me for more comments. Finally, though, I thought it best to say something.

"So, Lorraine, you explained my two charts. What was the third chart below mine?"

"It's a comparison chart. It compares your responses with those of a different person."

I nodded as if I understood why that mattered which, of course, I didn't.

"Tom, with your understanding of how I compared your two charts, how would you interpret the third chart?" 

I looked at them for a minute, maybe two, before I replied.

"Well, the first thing I noticed is that the line swings on the third chart were about as wide as my second chart and not as wide as my first. Maybe the guy in the third chart hadn't had sex or masturbated?"

"Very good, Tom. The term for the 'line swings' is 'amplitude', but you're exactly right. The person in the third chart had been abstaining from sexual release. Go on."

"There were only a couple scenes where it looked like my responses were really different from his in the third chart. Other than that, they're pretty much the same, I guess."

"All right, Tom, is there anything else you'd like to add about the charts?"

I just shook my head.

"Tom, your observations are correct. Let me be a bit more precise.

Only in scene 4 and in scene 9 did the subject in the third chart significantly deviate from your reactions. Although your observations were correct, one of your conclusions was not. You concluded the subject in the third chart was a man. It was not. It was a woman."

I just shrugged, again not understanding why that mattered.

"Let me remind you of what scenes 4 and 9 were, Tom. Scene 4 was the scene showing two gay males kissing each other and engaging in frottage. You were negatively stimulated by that, whereas the woman in the third chart was moderately stimulated positively. She is not averse to engaging in same-sex contact herself, whereas you are. By the way, heterosexual women are often less averse than men to engaging in same-sex contact. 

Scene 9 showed an older man in his 40's engaging in kissing, touching, arousal, mutual masturbation, and eventual intercourse with a woman about 20 years younger than he. You were rather highly aroused by that, however the woman in the third chart was decidedly not. That's because she is an older woman who prefers a sexual relationship with a much younger man. Since she is aroused more by younger men than men her own age or older, she was less stimulated by the older man. 

In contrast, jump ahead to scene 15 where your charts and the woman's chart showed the same very high arousal. That scene was of a woman in her late forties having intercourse with a man in his early twenties. Both you and the chart 3 subject were approaching peak arousal when the scene ended.

And, of course, in scene 10 both you and the woman in the bottom chart are very highly stimulated by sexual contact between two women."

She paused, evidently waiting for me to comment. When I didn't, she asked, "So, Tom, knowing what the charts show and presuming they accurately measure your and the woman's sexual responses, what would you conclude now?"

I was beginning to get a headache. My lack of sex, Lorraine's painfully detailed clinical explanations, her enticing perfume and appearance, her questions of me rather than giving me concrete answers ... all these seemed to be increasing my frustration again. 

"You know, Tom, above and beyond our interviews in the office here, I've done some independent research on you. I went to your university and looked at some of your swim team photos."

I wondered what possible relevance that could have.

"It will probably surprise you a little to learn that you have some tendencies toward sexual exhibitionism."

"You mean I might be a flasher?"

"No, nothing quite that publicly overt. At least, I doubt it. No, what leads me to that conclusion is a close examination of the group photos with you and your other team members. They were the traditional competition swimsuit, but yours was always just slightly smaller and more revealing."

I had never given it any thought, so what she was suggesting seemed outrageous. She evidently read my facial expression.

"Let me repeat, Tom, you're not a pervert. It is more likely that your choice of swimsuit was subconscious marketing, advertising your product if you like. I seriously doubt you gave it any thought or even knew you were doing it. Incidentally, I doubt that anyone in the audience would have consciously noticed, either. On a subconscious level, it is very likely that your message came through loud and clear to some of the women in the stands. In fact, I'm absolutely sure of it." 

"I didn't know," was all I could say. 

"No, of course not. You were focused on the competition. If your focus had changed, if you were aware of the effects of your body and attire on any of the women, it is possible you would have been unable to suppress an erection. Many of the women attending were probably the mothers and sisters and girl friends of your teammates and competitors. I suspect that very subconsciously you were trying to display your body to them in a sexual way. And I want to emphasize that was perfectly appropriate. My point is that you are not afraid to display your sexuality in appropriate ways in the right circumstances. It should not surprise you to learn that is a good thing.

You have a splendid body, one that many women would find sexually desirable. I think your choice of swimsuit was a healthy way for you to get women to notice you. I certainly did. In fact, Tom, since you have been so honest with me, I should be with you. After looking at your swimsuit photos, I went home and masturbated more than once while I fantasized about different sexual situations with you."

Just as when she had told me she sometimes used a dildo when she masturbated, she had to have noticed the surprised look on my face. 

"I meant that to be a sincere compliment, Tom. You were being truthful when you noted that on three occasions you had masturbated while fantasizing about having sex with me. I took it as a personal compliment from you. Even a woman in my profession needs an ego boost now and again to remind us we can still turn a sexy young man's head."

She went on.

"I suspect, Tom, that none of the women with whom you've had sexual contact, even unsatisfactory contact, have ridiculed you for the size of your penis. In fact, based on the information recorded by the plethysmograph in our sessions here, I can give you an unqualified assurance that the size of your erection would please most women who believe that to be important. I can also tell you that your erections are sustained rather than brief. Of course, I don't know from the results so far how long it would take you to become aroused again after ejaculation, but I suspect your recovery time would be relatively short given your excellent physical health and stamina.

But Tom, it's also very important that you understand and accept this: Many women, again maybe most, do not achieve maximum sexual pleasure and orgasm through vaginal penetration alone. I'm sure you've watched some commercial videos which showed an actor and actress engaged in what the director would like the audience to believe is spontaneous intercourse. In fact, the actors are posed in such a way that the only physical contact between them is the man's erect cock sliding in and out of the woman's vagina. That pose is chosen for the best camera angle to show the penetration. Of course, the woman is usually expressing herself audibly and visually to portray her own satisfaction. In reality, the actor's cock probably needs frequent external lubrication, because the actress is almost certainly not feeling much sexual stimulation. They are actors. There is little or no real sexual satisfaction for the woman at all and very little for the man. That's why you'll often see a woman in a porno flick stimulating her clit herself while the male actor fucks her. She needs the clitoral stimulation to act out her role most realistically. She simply tightens her Kegels around him when the director wants him to cum. She often fakes her own orgasm for the film.

Think back to your times with Linda in high school. She achieved orgasm almost every time you masturbated her. In all probability, it was your hand stimulating her clit that aroused her the most, and it is very likely that when you finger-fucked her, you continued to gently but effectively stimulate her clit, perhaps with the palm of your hand. Clitoral stimulation is usually far more arousing than only vaginal penetration, at least it is for me. In short, you did not need to penetrate Linda to sexually satisfy her. Your manual technique, whatever it was, was more than enough to satisfy her. You will find that is true with more women than you might think. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 01



Again, the adult film industry has misled men to think that the only way a woman can be satisfied is if she's fucked by a big dick. That is simply not true, but it puts men under far more pressure than you should be. I suspect that is partially what has happened with you. The culture has set unreasonably high expectations for male performance, and the result has been increased anxiety.

You said you orgasmed every time Linda masturbated you. I can assure you that when you do fuck a woman, Tom, you are likely to cum before she does, and she may not orgasm at all. But you should not infer from her lack of simultaneous orgasm that she didn't receive sexual satisfaction from your bodyís contact with her. For you, it would probably be most effective and satisfying to engage in pre-coital stimulation, foreplay, with your partner. Be patient and help her reach her pre-orgasmic plateau just at the edge of orgasm before you penetrate her. If she cums, be more gentle but don't stop stimulating her unless she tells you to. Many women can experience more than one orgasm in close sequence. But our erogenous zones like our clit, our nipples, and our frenum are much more sensitive to touch, so we need a lighter touch. If your contact with Linda is any indication, you seem to already be able to read that and respond to it properly. So, you will often find that your partner's second or third orgasm will be stronger than the first. And since you will be about ready to cum yourself, penetrating your partner then is more likely to cause her to have a more intense orgasm, possibly simultaneously with yours. 

By the way, Tom, remember what you said about your one time with Sharon at the lake cabin? You said she seemed to be getting aroused humping your leg. You see, Tom, she was stimulating her clitoris by rubbing it against your leg. Among bisexual women and lesbians, that behavior is called tribadism or tribbing. It just means rubbing. It is a behavior that allows women to bring each other to orgasm without any vaginal penetration. Men rarely understand that it can be a technique a woman can use with a man to speed up her own orgasm so it more closely coincides with his.

Based on what you said, I'm sure Sharon was close to cumming. You said you pushed her back toward the couch, but I'm quite certain she was pulling as much as you were pushing. With her own sexual experience as a married woman, she knew you and she both were close to cumming. She was trying very hard to get your cock inside her so you and she could cum together. Unfortunately, her family returned, and that left you both sexually frustrated. 

My point is this. You may subconsciously be setting too high a standard for yourself, one that you may never reach or if you do, one that may leave you disappointed. Just because you will eventually sustain an erection and penetrate a woman, that does not mean you will satisfy her. My advice is to simply do the things that satisfy your partner. If you do that, and if she's an eager and willing partner, she will be doing the same for you. You have been focusing on penetration as the end all and be all of your sexual life. It most certainly is not. As you get more experienced, you will find that your own orgasm will eventually become more prolonged and intense as you enhance your partner's pleasure." She gave me a look of concern before continuing.

"Tom, there is one additional area I think we need to resolve before we consider what kind of treatment might benefit you the most. You recall telling me about Linda's last orgasm when you masturbated her? The time you thought she might have passed out? Normally, I'd say that it was due to just the right combination of your middle finger hitting her G-spot while your thumb was on her clit, just the right amount of pressure on both simultaneously that caused her to cum so violently and repetitively. But I'm not completely sure that is the case.

Remember after your first time on the polygraph I told you it looked as if the sensor on your finger, the one that detects galvanic skin response, might have malfunctioned? I had the polygraph's manufacturer test the sensor and the polygraph after your experience. They were both in perfect working order and properly calibrated with no sign of damage. 

During your test today, Tom, the same sensor and polygraph behaved exactly the same way as in your first test, only much more severely. In fact, during the scene when the polygraph recorded your sexual arousal at its highest, that particular sensor stopped working entirely. I can no longer use that lead or get any signal through it. I'm going to send it back to the manufacturer to be tested again." 

Oddly enough, I almost felt a sense of pride that my sexual arousal was powerful enough to have maybe blown out her expensive machine. I only hoped she wasn't going to make me pay to have it repaired. 

"Tom, I hate to ask this of you, but I would like to have you come back again in a week to ten days and allow me to retest you with the polygraph. I have a theory about why the machine behaved the way it did, and I want to discuss it with the manufacturer. Let me reassure you that this is more than just my curiosity. The next test should be the last one on the machine. 

To help me resolve any physiological issues that may be contributing to your temporary impotence, Tom, I have two requests for you. Please understand you have no obligation to accede to either of them. 

I would like to send samples of both your blood and your ejaculate to a laboratory for analysis. Because you have been abstaining from sexual release for a week now, you are sexually charged. While you are still here today, I would like you to masturbate. I will capture your ejaculate in a container. I would also like to do three blood draws from you. The first will be done before you become sexually stimulated again today. The second will be done at the moment you ejaculate during masturbation, and the last will be done after your body has wound down from sexual arousal."

I just stared at her. She obviously knew I had been taken aback by her request. The thought of being stuck with a needle was to say the least something of a sexual turnoff. It wasn't the needle that bothered me; I'd had blood tests and donated blood during school blood drives. It was that she would have to be there while I was masturbating. So, I figured I'd simply tell her what my concern was. Before I could speak, though, she explained.

"Tom, remember, I'm still a registered nurse, so doing a blood draw is nothing unusual for me. I've reviewed your medical history, including the blood work labs, provided by your internist and the urologists. What I hope to learn from some specific tests on your blood and ejaculate is whether there are any chemical changes in either during stages of sexual arousal, ejaculation, and resolution. Even if there are, I don't know if there will be any direct correlation with your temporary impotence. But the unusual behavior of my polygraph as you approached plateau and orgasm suggest this is worth looking at."

"I can buy that, Lorraine. But unless you've got some whizbang gadget that can do all this by remote control, you're going to have to be right there with me while Iím jerking off. It seems to me that might affect my ability to even get a hard-on."

"That's a fair point, Tom, but consider this. You've already talked with me about the most intimate details of your sexual habits. You've told me things you would not tell your own mother. You have allowed me to connect wires to you that among other things, told me the size of your cock. Until now, none of that has bothered you. Nor should it have. Let me add one more thing, Tom. You've already seen me engaging in an act of sexual intercourse."

That last remark stopped me cold. 

"That's right, Tom. You have seen me having sex with another person. I was one of the two women in the scene that so aroused you. The other woman in that scene, Shannon, gave me permission to record that scene and use her as a case study provided, of course, she was never to be identifiable to anyone she might know. I'm not betraying her confidence. She is happily married and thoroughly enjoys heterosexual intercourse with her husband. She came to me because every now and then during sex with her husband, she would fantasize about being with a woman instead. That caused her some anxiety, because it seemed to her that she began to be able to climax with her husband only when she was fantasizing about a woman. She feared she might somehow become a lesbian and jeopardize her marriage."

"So, were you able to help her?"

"Oh, yes indeed. But now you know the other woman in the scene with Shannon was me. I also must tell you that the third chart you saw below your two was mine. I ran that chart last night."

I felt my cock stirring when I looked at Lorraine. Though until now she had been a doctor and confidant, I was beginning to have even stronger sexual stirrings toward her. Suddenly, having her beside me while I was jerking off didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"What do you think testing my blood and jism will tell you?"

"The test results may not tell me anything that we don't already know. In other words, there may be no correlation between your body chemistry and the effects you had on both Linda during her last orgasm with you and my equipment. Then again, there may be, and we won't know unless we run the tests."

"So how will you do it? Set up and run the test, I mean?"

"You will be lying on your back on a bed and will be able to see a large video screen. You may wear a hospital gown or you may be undressed, whichever you prefer. Obviously you cannot wear any underwear as it would constrict your genitals and be uncomfortable. The room will be comfortably warm, and it will be lit well enough for me to safely and properly insert the blood draw needle in your vein. Once I've inserted the needle and have determined it is drawing properly, the lights can be dimmed but not extinguished. Your arm will be restrained, strapped down, so that when you start to cum, your arm won't be able to move enough to remove the needle. 

If you like, I can put a screen between your torso and me so that I cannot see your body except for having access to your arm. I will do three blood draws from the same needle. The first blood sample will be taken, hopefully, before you become any more aroused than you already are. The second will be taken at precisely the moment of your orgasm and ejaculation, and the third will be taken during resolution, the time you are winding down from your orgasm."

"If you're drawing my blood and my arm is strapped down, then that leaves only my right hand to jerk off with. How will my cum get collected?"

"You're right. Semen samples are normally collected when the donor can use one hand to masturbate and the other to hold the collection vessel. In this case, I think we'll have to improvise using a condom and a large test tube. The condom tip will be removed and the condom body connected to the test tube. The condom won't be applied to envelope the entire shaft of your penis. It will only grasp the head. That will allow enough flexibility for movement during your orgasm. The test tube will be taped to your body so it doesn't go flying around and break. Once you've ejaculated, we'll remove and seal the test tube."

"Lorraine, I have to tell you I'm not sure that I'm even going to be able to get a hard-on with all this stuff going on around me and you there."

"This may not work. If it doesn't, then no harm has been done. But if it does, we may learn a great deal. As for helping to stimulate you to get an erection, I plan on showing you the entire scene between Shannon and me. Remember, Tom, you didn't see it all. You only saw enough to get you aroused. I believe that when you see the climax, you won't have any difficulty at all."

"I guess one last question, Lorraine. Does putting the privacy screen between you and me make it easier or more difficult for you?"

She smiled. It was not a motherly smile. 

"I need the screen there, Tom. I must focus on drawing your blood quickly and at the appropriate time. I'm afraid that the sight of your body jerking off your fully erect cock while watching Shannon and me on the screen might be far too great a distraction. In fact, I'm sure it would be. But that means you will have to tell me when you're getting close to cumming and when you're ejaculating. Will you be able to do that, Tom?"

"Oh, I don't think that will be any problem."

"Then let me make one more request, Tom. Would you allow me to video you during this and subsequent sessions?"

"You mean while I'm jacking off?" 

"Yes. As with any other test result, I assure you I won't show the video to anyone else without your permission. It's just another way of documenting your responses."

Oddly enough, I found the thought that Lorraine might use a video of my jacking off for any reason at all to be highly arousing. I wondered if she might even use it to arouse herself. There must have been something to her seeing some hint of exhibitionism in me.

"I have no objection at all, Lorraine," I replied with perhaps a noticeable hint of masculine pride. 

"All right. Shall we go proceed with the testing then?"

She took my arm and led me to yet another room in her house. The room was warmly but sparsely furnished. The bed was a hospital bed with electrical adjustments for overall height as well as patient incline. It also had a board affixed to the left rail so my arm could be secured in place. Lorraine had already positioned a curtain so she would have access to my left arm but be unable to see either me or the video screen. There was a tray next to her chair with what I assumed were video, lighting, and bed motion controls. There was a large flat-screen video monitor hanging on the wall. She had evidently anticipated my agreeing to the test.

"Tom, while I cue up the video, why don't you undress. There's a hospital gown on the bed if you want to wear it. The condom and test tube assembly are on the tray. Please put the condom on just so it covers the head of your penis. Then use some of the tape to anchor the test tube somewhere on your body where it will be comfortable and not come loose. Be sure to allow for the length of your erection when you're taping the tube."

She left the room through a second door behind her screen. My mind began to wander to what I imagined the scene between Lorraine and Shannon would look like, and my cock began to get hard. Oh, to hell with the hospital gown. The thought of my lying nude with a hard-on literally within arm's reach of Lorraine was really beginning to turn me on. I wondered what effect the test and the video might have on her?

Since my cock was already nearly erect, I slipped the condom on over the head and then taped the test tube so it wouldn't come off. Then I lay down on the bed and placed my left arm on the board. Shortly after that, Lorraine came back in. She asked if I was comfortable, then she strapped my arm down so it couldn't move. She applied a constrictor band above my elbow and ran what I assumed was an alcohol swab over the inside of my elbow. She tapped the veins lightly, then spoke.

"You're going to feel a slight stick, Tom."

It was hardly noticeable. She drew the first blood sample.

"All right, Tom, if you're ready I'm going to turn on the video now. You can start masturbating whenever you want. Remember to tell me when you're just about to cum." 

The room lighting dimmed as the video image came onto the screen.

After a few seconds, Lorraine and Shannon entered the room. Lorraine seated Shannon on the couch, then sat down alongside her. 

At first they talked, mostly about Shannon's attraction to other women. Then Shannon told her what aroused her sexually. As Shannon described each cause of arousal, Lorraine gently and slowly engaged in it. When Shannon talked about having her neck massaged, Lorraine slowly and almost imperceptibly reached up and began to massage her neck. 

Shannon talked about how she liked to be kissed. Gently and slowly at first, then more aggressively as her lust grew. After listening for awhile, Lorraine leaned over and began to kiss Shannon just as she had described. They continued kissing for several minutes, both women clearly becoming more sexually aroused with each touch.

The women's kisses became more assertive, more probing. 

After more kissing, licking, and gentle biting, the women's hands began seeking her partner's body. As sensitive spots were touched, as passions became stronger and less controllable, the women emitted sounds of pleasure and encouragement to each other. 

Eventually after several minutes of kissing and fondling, the women began to undress each other. It was unrushed, and they continued to kiss and touch as articles of clothing fell away. 

I moved my own right hand to my cock, now fully erect, and began to stroke it. My breathing increased in frequency and intensity. 

The women on the screen were now fully naked. Lorraine became more aggressive and laid Shannon back on the sofa. Lorraine placed herself on top of Shannon in a missionary sex position and began kissing and licking Shannon's breasts and nipples. They continued to embrace, touch, and kiss for several more minutes. 

As she lay on top of Shannon, Lorraine had begun to slowly push her pussy downward against Shannon's. Minutes passed, and Lorraine's pelvic grinds became more pronounced. Shannon began to respond with synchronized upward pushes of her own. 

Since I had abstained from jacking off for over a week, I felt my own orgasm beginning to irreversibly build. 

"I'm getting close to cumming, Lorraine," I said rather hoarsely.

The two women on the screen were both moaning and gasping for air. It was obvious from the tension in their muscles, their strained facial expressions, and the frantic pace of their bodies that they were both close to experiencing satisfying simultaneous orgasms. 

Lorraine seemed to cum first. Quite loudly and very aggressively. Her body relaxed slightly while she continued her pelvic thrusts into Shannon's pussy. Lorraine looked down into Shannon's face, distorted in ultimate pleasure and surrender, as Shannon gave out a long moan and arched her back, literally lifting and holding Lorraine off the couch. 

With that, I heard my own distant voice scream, "I'm cumming! Ohhhhh, fuck me, Lorraine!" My jism blasted out of my cock, through the condom, and into the test tube in what seemed to be a never-ending stream. My hips were thrusting upward while I kept pumping ... pumping ... pumping. The white liquid was close to filling the tube when I finally slumped into a relaxed recline.

A moment later, her orgasmic peak having passed, Shannon began to relax. Lorraine lay on top of Shannon, both women breathing heavily and continuing to kiss. The screen went black.

Having seen this highly erotic scene and having my own orgasm as if I had been there, my mind was blurred. All I could say was, "Wow. What a beautiful body."

"Yes, Shannon has a beautiful body, doesn't she?" I heard Lorraine reply from behind the screen.

I looked at the screen. "Yes, but I meant yours."

I continued to relax until my breath had returned and I could speak comfortably.

"Did you get my blood sample while I was cumming?" I asked.

"Yes. Now, Tom, please carefully remove the condom from your cock and hand it and the test tube to me. Here's a box of tissue to help clean yourself off." She handed it through the opening in the screen.

I did as she commanded, wondering if her video camera was still on.

"I'm going to take these samples into the next room, Tom. Please continue to lie on the bed and relax. I'll return in a couple of minutes and take the final blood sample after you have recovered from your orgasm."




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 02



[In Part 1 of this story, readers met Dr. Lorraine Theriault, a licensed psychologist and registered nurse. As a 22-year-old otherwise healthy man, I had been referred to her with an embarrassing problem: I could not sustain an erection when trying to penetrate a woman. I had been treated by several medical doctors and behavioral professionals, but none had resolved my problem. Finally, my most recent doctor's office manager suggested Dr. Theriault. 

With patience and unorthodox treatment methods, this 49-year-old woman had both solved my problem and uncovered what she called my remarkable "gift." It had been an expensive discovery for her. First she had done several laboratory tests on me. They indicated something, but she was not sure exactly what. Then she hooked me up to a laboratory instrument of her own creation to gather some data while I was masturbating. When I orgasmed, her machine fried. Well, actually only a couple of its sensors smoked. But the machine was not happy.

It wasn't until a few weeks later when Lorraine and I fucked (the first time I had ever been able to successfully penetrate a woman) that she fully understood why her machine had been damaged. It seems that while my body is building toward orgasm, it is also generating and storing an electrical charge. When I orgasm (or maybe just before) while in contact with my partner's sensitive sexual trigger spots, the electrical current is discharged. It is not a quick discharge, nor is it lethal. When I fucked Lorraine and came inside of her, she experienced a prolonged and remarkably intense orgasm. Based on her personal experience, she called it my "gift." I wasn't so sure.

During her initial interview and examination with me, Lorraine had determined what traits and characteristics in a woman were sexually exciting for me. What she found was that my preferences were for mature women who were vocal during sex and who recognized their own body hair could be a sexual facilitator, an aphrodisiac, with me. Obviously, there had to be more, something of a personal chemistry between us. In every respect, Lorraine met all my desires and expectations in a sexual partner. Moreover, she preferred me as a much younger man with stamina and a reasonably open mind. Since then we have sex almost weekly, sometimes twice weekly.

Until she treated me and experienced my "gift" personally, Lorraine had rejected the thought of writing for peer review in professional journals. After we had fucked two or three times, she felt there needed to be something documented about my condition. Since she could not both participate and write objectively about my condition, she had been carefully reviewing her clients to see if any of them might be a suitable laboratory sex partner for me. Of course, her first concern was that neither the prospective partner nor I could in any way be harmed by engaging in intercourse while she watched and recorded the interaction. Thus far, she had not found a suitable partner. 

That brings us to Part II of the story. ] 

*

I walked into my apartment and practically threw my book bag across the room toward the sofa. It had been a rotten day.

First my master's thesis committee had contacted me to schedule a supposedly urgent meeting, but when I arrived at the appointed place, on time, a note on the door just said, "Tom: Sorry, must reschedule. Call me."

So then I went to the university's swimming pool to swim off my frustration with some laps. As an undergraduate I had been on the swim team all four years. As a graduate student, I swim two or three times weekly just to stay in shape and work off frustrations. But when I arrived at the pool, it was filled with people from the community. The university had decided that with the economic downturn, it would open the pool at certain times to anyone and everyone and all their pool toys. I did manage to get a few laps in before the townies with their water play toys overwhelmed me.

The only thing that had a chance of turning out well was I had an appointment with Dr. Lorraine Theriault. 

I took a quick shower to get rid of the chlorine odor lingering from the pool water. Then I dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt and headed to Lorraine's.

I arrived promptly and rang the doorbell. Her office was in her home, so there were no signs or other outward indicators of a business presence.

She greeted me with a bright and warm smile. She was wearing a very conservative pantsuit. She had a way of sending subtle sexual signals to me by the clothing she wore at our meetings. If she was wearing a skirt with dark stockings of slacks or a pantsuit, the meeting would likely be all talk, no sex. If she was wearing a skirt with no or sheer stockings, sex was a definite possibility as the meeting progressed. 

"Let's go into my office, Tom."

Her demeanor was reminiscent of my first appointment with her. All business. She gestured to the easy chair in front of her desk. She seated herself behind, hiding her gorgeous legs under the desk out of sight, out of mind (well, not completely out of mind). Yet in our first meeting, she had been confident and clearly in control. Now, today, she seemed a bit unsure, maybe uneasy.

"After our last session, I went to my regular appointment with my cardiologist."

Instantly she was acutely aware of the distress her statement had caused me. 

"Oh, don't worry. I've had a condition called atrial fibrillation for several years. It's just an irregular heartbeat. It seems to be more common or maybe just more noticed by people as they reach middle age. The condition itself is not the problem as much as the possible secondary effects. I don't really need to go into all the details. A-Fib is often controlled with medication. It has been in my case. There are other, often more permanent treatment options involving radio frequency energy. In my case, the doctor felt that medical control was appropriate."

"So are you telling me that we can't have sex any more because my charged orgasms may hurt you?" I asked rather indelicately.

Her stern expression flashed first to surprise and then to one of reassurance.

"Not at all, Tom. In fact, quite the opposite. I went to my cardiologist for a scheduled checkup after the second or maybe third time we had sex. She noticed a dramatic decrease in my A-Fib, so she reduced my medication. I think she fully expected the A-Fib to worsen. It didn't. When I went back for my next scheduled checkup, the A-Fib had declined even more. That's when she decided to take me off my meds entirely, but she wanted to see me monthly. Of course, you and I have had sex many, many times, but I never made any connection between the lessening of my condition and our sex until the doctor did more comprehensive tests. She said that my A-Fib was gone, and more than that, it was as if I had received the radio frequency treatment that often cures it. That's when it occurred to me that our sex might have been not only exceedingly pleasurable but also therapeutic."

"What did your doctor say when you told her about us?"

"I didn't tell her, Tom. I told you during our first meeting I would never betray your trust."

"Well, I think you should tell her. If we're doing anything that either helps or hurts your health, your doctor and you need to know that." 

"Thank you, Tom. I was sure that is what you would say. There is more to this story, but I can't share it with you until after my appointment with her Friday. But just to be clear, you don't object to my telling her everything about our visits and even showing her your records and the videos of our sessions?"

All of Lorraine's examination and treatment rooms are fully wired with concealed audio and video recording equipment. All parts of each room, except the dressing room, shower, and toilets were covered completely. Audio and video recording of her sessions was only done with the client's explicit consent. I had consented early, so each of our sessions had been recorded.

I thought about it for a while. Although Lorraine's treatments had not exactly turned me into an exhibitionist, she had made it much easier for me to be able to both discuss and also display my sexuality, at least with her in her office. Now she was talking about someone else possibly watching me jack off and us fuck. She had always been completely honest with me, and I felt it important to reciprocate now. And yes, I guess I might have been a little excited at the possibility of an unseen third person watching.

"No, Lorraine, I don't mind. Frankly, I have to confess that the thought of someone else watching the two of us together is sort of exciting. Maybe I really am turning into an exhibitionist," I concluded rather tentatively.

"No, Tom, you will never be a flasher. But it is encouraging that you are willing to now be more sexually outgoing and demonstrative. In any event, I'll call you after my Friday appointment. By the way, I assume you are still swimming every Tuesday and Thursday at the university pool?" 

"Yeah... well, trying to anyway. But like I said, its getting more and more crowded since they opened the pool up to the townspeople."

"Mm-hmm. And are you still wearing that rather small swimsuit you used to wear when you swam competitively?"

"Yeah, I took your advice and kept wearing it. Why? Do you think I ought to wear something a little more modest?"

"Oh, no, not at all. As long as you're comfortable wearing it, you have nothing to worry about."

With that comment she ushered me toward the door. No sex for us today obviously. Still, just seeing and talking with her had relieved much of my earlier frustration and tension.

I expected to hear from Lorraine on Monday or Tuesday after her Friday appointment, so I was quite surprised when my phone rang on Saturday morning. 

"Hello, Tom. I hope I'm not calling too early." It was 8 a.m. and I was only partially awake, but I quickly recognized Lorraine's voice.

"Nah, I had to get up to answer the phone anyway," I replied trying to be cleverly humorous. 

"When could we meet at my office to talk?" 

Again, no preamble, no small talk, all business.

"Were you thinking next week?" I asked.

"Well, we could wait, but I'd really like to talk with you this weekend if there is any way we could meet."

I looked outside. Pouring rain. No outdoor activities today. I clicked onto the weather on my computer. Rain the entire weekend was forecast.

"This afternoon or tomorrow would be fine," I said.

"I'll see you this afternoon at 1 at my office. And Tom, don't worry. Everything is fine. Actually maybe even better than I had hoped." With that teaser, she hung up.

She greeted me at the front door before I could even ring the bell. She was wearing fashionable jeans and a modest white sleeveless blouse. I had hoped for less. If she noticed my disappointment, she didn't reveal it.

Once we were seated in her office she got right to the point.

"My cardiologist was stunned and quite fascinated when I told her about your 'gift'. She was reluctant to attribute my diminished A-Fib to it, but she could not discount that possibility. After she reviewed your records and after she watched my responses during our sex on the videos, she said that she would like to hook me up to an electrocardiograph and have it recording us while we have sex."

I'd had EKGs before when I was on the swim team. My mind pictured Lorraine with wires and leads and patches all over her body. Call me crazy, but that picture somehow wasn't sexually exciting. I could see the movie title now: Fucking Frankenstein. I told her what I was thinking.

She laughed and said she'd had a similar thought and had expressed her own concerns to the doctor.

"But Tom, she showed me the equipment. It is wireless ... well, at least there are no leads to get tangled up with. The receiver is concealed in a nearby stand, and the information will be sent from there into the adjoining room where Dr. Geiler-Callaghan will be monitoring."

"I guess it will be okay, but what if I can't get it up or keep it up?"

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that, Tom. After all, the -- what should we call it? -- experiment, I guess, will be done here in my office. You seem comfortable here. If you want, you don't even have to see or meet or talk with Dr. Geiler-Callaghan. I think if you did, it would put you at ease, but of course the choice is yours. During our past few months having sex frequently, you seem to have completely overcome your previous barrier."

Her voice turned sultry and seductive.

"And Tom, once we are together alone in the room, I intend to do everything I can to help you bring me to more exquisite and exhausting orgasms. I promise, you will forget all about everything else."

She looked at me with her brown bedroom eyes, and I felt my cock getting hard. She knew the effect her words alone had on me.

"There are a few other things we need to talk about, too. 

First, you already know the immediate effect your 'gift' has on me when we have sex. But I've noticed a persistent or lingering after-effect, too. Now I've begun masturbating almost daily, and when I masturbate within a day or two, my orgasms have nearly the same intensity as when we fucked. The their intensity seems to diminish slightly with each passing day. I don't know exactly why. It may be as much emotional as physiological on my part. 

I've also noticed that when I masturbate now, I am able to cum much sooner than before we started fucking. Where before it might take me ten or fifteen minutes to orgasm if I was able to at all, I can finger myself off now in just a few minutes if I want to. Being able to cum faster doesn't seem to lessen my orgasm's intensity, though. 

And as you know from your own personal experience with me, I can be brought to orgasm just through nipple stimulation. You have become quite adept at that, Tom. Since we have been fucking, my nipple stimulation orgasms during masturbation have also intensified. I am eager to work with you to see if we can determine why your 'gift' seems to linger and intensify my masturbatory orgasms. 

Second, Tom, I want to show you some pictures."

She carefully laid out several eight-by-ten photo prints of herself -- head shots only, nothing below the neck.

"Do you notice anything about these, Tom?" she asked.

"Not really, other than they're all of you."

"That's right. Each of these is a frame grab from a camera in a room we're having sex in. The head shot is when I'm walking into the room. Maybe it will help if I tell you these photos cover the entire time we've been having sex."

I studied the photos more carefully. Clearly, there was something she wanted me to notice. About the only thing I could see was that with each successive photo, Lorraine seemed to show slightly increased signs of aging in her face or hair. Reluctantly, I pointed that out to her.

"You're exactly right, Tom, but I've been a little deceptive in the way I put the photos on the table. In fact, the photos are arranged in reverse order. In other words, what you really see is the appearance that since we've been fucking, my aging appears to be reversing. My skin is looking younger, and so is my hair. It's not remarkably noticeable, but it is clearly visible. I didn't notice this; Dr. Geiler-Callaghan did.

I've noticed other physiological and behavioral differences, but of course they don't appear in these photos. One example is that as I become aroused, my vaginal sensitivity and lubrication seem to have returned to their condition of years ago. Now, there's no scientific correlation, but it is nonetheless an interesting observation. 

And since I'm talking about Dr. Geiler-Callaghan, I've already told you she is my cardiologist. In fact, she is not only a practicing cardiologist; she is also a research neurocardiologist. That simply means she is interested in the interactions between the brain and nervous system, physiology, and the heart. That makes her the ideal doctor to try and determine the functional nature of your 'gift.' 

What I am asking, Tom, is that you, she, and I work very closely together as associates. All the rules of privacy we discussed in our first meeting will still apply unless and until we change them. We will meet only here at my office. We will not meet or socialize or otherwise engage each other outside of this office without prior agreement of all of us. And of course, we will not discuss or reveal anything about our meetings to anyone else without each party's explicit consent.

Tom, I don't expect you to answer today. Think about this over the weekend if you wish. Please feel free to reject this proposal to include Dr. Geiler-Callaghan if you have any concerns about how her involvement might affect your own progress."

Lorraine arose from her chair as if she was going to walk out with me, but I didn't move. 

"Lorraine, please sit down so we can finish talking about this," I said. My uncharacteristic assertiveness seemed to surprise her at first, but she returned to her chair. I continued.

"So far, all you've told me is that the doctor will be hooking you up to an EKG and monitoring your heart while we have sex. That might tell her what is happening to your body when we fuck, but it sure doesn't tell her anything about mine. Is there more to this story?"

She seemed momentarily taken aback, but she recovered quickly.

"Yes, Tom, there is, but I would prefer that Dr. Geiler-Callaghan be in the meeting where she and I can explain it to you. You will have more questions than I can answer. Could we set up the meeting for next Thursday, and then if you agree, we can schedule the testing?"

I had no reason not to trust Lorraine. Certainly she had never deceived me or withheld information from me. So I agreed.

"Thank you, Tom."

And with that, she escorted me to the door. 

Thursday after my last morning class I went to the university pool to swim. Usually ignoring the townies in the pool was easy, but there was one woman quite some distance away who attracted and held my attention. She was wearing a one-piece swimsuit, not some revealing sex suit, but there was still something very arousing about it. For the first time I could recall, I started getting a hard-on at the pool. I quickly jumped into the pool and did another couple of laps. When I got out, she had already gone. I had only seen her briefly and from a distance, but my hope was she would come to the pool again. 

I left the pool, walked home, and showered to get rid of the pool's chlorine smell. Then I headed off to Lorraine's. She greeted me at the door and ushered me toward her office. As we walked, Lorraine asked if I would agree to meet Dr. Geiler-Callaghan personally and talk with her. I had already made up my mind and agreed.

A woman whom I presumed to be the doctor arose to face us as we entered. 

"Kim, this is Tom. Tom, this is Dr. Kimberly Geiler-Callaghan, my cardiologist." 

I shook her hand as she extended it, and we exchanged polite greetings. Lorraine motioned for us to be seated. Once we were seated, Lorraine again went over the "ground rules" for confidentiality of our meetings. We both readily agreed.

I don't know what I expected Dr. Geiler-Callaghan to look like, but suffice it to say I was not expecting to see a five-foot-four-inch 40-ish woman with long brown hair, freckles on a "cute" face displaying a genuinely friendly smile, a very nice figure and a dancer's legs. Picture a perky 40-something high school cheerleader, and you've got an image of the doctor. She was wearing a perfectly appropriate but extremely well-tailored business suit with a skirt that showed off her legs without being unprofessionally revealing. 

But when Dr. Geiler-Callaghan began to speak, she was all business, very professional, without being haughty.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 02



"Tom -- may I call you Tom --" she continued as I nodded agreeably. "Tom, I'm sure this is at least a little awkward and uncomfortable for you. It may not help, but I'm a little tentative myself. Lorraine is exceptionally gifted putting her clients at ease talking about sexual issues. Still, our culture seems to frown on honest and candid discussions about our own sexuality. 

As Lorraine has explained, I have been treating her for mild atrial fibrillation. In some patients the A-Fib can be treated, causing the symptoms and in fact the condition to disappear. With many patients, including Lorraine, the better and safer method was to simply control her condition with a low dosage medication. It was working very well. Then, as she explained to you, her condition began to inexplicably improve. That is extremely unusual since her treatment was designed to control, not cure, the condition. She said she told you, accurately, that her condition and its symptoms seem to have completely disappeared. Eliminating the other likely variables left her sexual contact with you as the one dramatic lifestyle change that seems to have a remarkable physiological component which could be a contributor.

The challenge for us, though, is to try and prove or disprove that. One of the fastest and simplest things we can do is run an EKG on her while you two are having sex. I have to confess to not knowing exactly what that will show. I know how the intensified physical exertion of sex manifests itself on an EKG, though, so any deviations from the expected results will be closely scrutinized.

The question for you is whether you would be willing to participate in that? The EKG is wireless, so you shouldn't be distracted by leads and things. In fact, I've brought one of the sensors with me."

She opened her handbag and removed a small foil packet similar to what a condom's package. She tore open the foil and revealed something that looked like a small round adhesive bandage.

"Lorraine will have several of these on her body, Tom. These are quite advanced techonogy. Each sensor is for one-time use only, then it's discarded. It's manufactured with its own internal power cell and unique digital identifier embedded in a microchip that both processes the body's signals and transmits them a few feet to the receiver. It's held on with a very strong adhesive, so it won't come off during sex, and it won't be affected by movement or rubbing."

"Will you be watching, Dr. Geiler-Callaghan?" I stumbled or mumbled through her hyphenated surname. She noticed and handled it gracefully.

"Please call me Kim. My last name is a mouthful for everyone. As for my watching, that is up to you, Tom. Most of the time my attention will be focused on the EKG charts, but if I see something remarkable there, I would like to be able to see you and Lorraine. The blip could be something as simple as one of the sensors slipping slightly, or it could be a significant behavioral change. Still, if you think my being able to see you might inhibit your sexual response, don't hesitate to tell me. What is most important is that your sexual responses be uninhibited, normal for you and Lorraine. "

"I guess I am a little nervous about you seeing me without clothes on. I mean, what if I can't get it up?"

The doctor looked at me with what could only be described as a knowing smile, then spoke.

"Tom, from what Lorraine tells me, you have no trouble whatsoever of getting and sustaining an erection. I've also seen you with Lorraine in the videos. And you may not remember it, but I have seen you in real life almost completely naked -- at the university pool. I've been there every day you've been there in the past two weeks. I was wearing a fairly plain tank suit in hopes you wouldn't notice my watching you."

"That was you? In the light blue suit?"

She nodded. "Apparently I wasn't successful in keeping you from noticing me."

"Wow! You're quite a swimmer. I remember watching you do laps." What I didn't tell her was that I had briefly fantasized about being far more intimate with her. 

"Thank you, Tom. But like I said, it's up to you. And obviously if you're too uncomfortable to get and sustain an erection, the worst that can happen is you simply don't. But Tom, believe me when I tell you there will be almost no chance of that. Lorraine will do her very best to ensure your full participation in the experiment." 

"Well, when would you want to do this experiment?"

Lorraine spoke up. "How about if we do the first part today and then the rest next Thursday afternoon? Would that work for both of you?"

I agreed, but Kim needed to check her planner. "Could we do it Friday afternoon instead?" she asked.

We both decided that would work. Kim cautioned us not to drink any coffee or alcohol for at least 12 hours before the experiment. She already knew neither of us was taking any medications that could interfere with sexual responses. I asked her then what Lorraine meant when she said 'the first part' of the experiment.

"Ah, good question, Tom," she said, "Before you and Lorraine actually engage in full intercourse, I need to get a baseline EKG during Lorraine's sexual activity."

"Which means ...?" I tailed off, gesturing with my hands to encourage her to explain further.

"It means I want to run an EKG on her during sexual activity, but before she has sex with you. I need to see her normal sexual responses on the EKG so I can compare them to the responses I get when she has sex with you."

Lorraine saw that I didn't quite understand, so she explained.

"Tom, she wants to run the baseline EKG on me today. She already has her equipment set up in one of my rooms."

"Okay," I said rather questioningly. "So why are you telling me this?"

"To give Kim my baseline EKG, Tom, I'm going to masturbate while it records my responses. Kim and I both feel that her baseline EKG would be more valid if you participated in the masturbation session."

Hmmm. This was beginning to sound interesting. 

"So what would I be doing while you're jilling off, Lorraine?" I asked with my characteristic lack of tact.

Lorraine gave me something that looked like a cross between a smile and a lecherous leer.

"Well, I certainly hope you'll be nude and stroking yourself so I can see you," she answered. Then she continued, "Remember that during our earliest sessions, my first effort at getting you to open up sexually was to talk about masturbation? Then eventually you became comfortable enough to let me watch you jerk off. And then we both began simultaneously masturbating in front of each other? I have to confess, Tom, that watching you masturbate made my own masturbation infinitely more pleasurable. 

If you agree, for my baseline EKG, we'll both be lying on separate tilt-up beds, facing but absolutely not touching each other. 

Kim will be in the adjoining room watching the video images of us masturbating, or maybe just me if you'd prefer, and monitoring my EKG.

The important thing, Tom, is that we can't touch each other. You can't even finger me, because if you cum while you're fingering me, it will mess up the EKG. The EKG has to be my sexual response without your touching me."

"And you want to do this right now?" I asked.

"Yes. Although I can masturbate without your being there, I'd prefer to have you there to add to the expected intensity of my orgasm. The closer my baseline EKG is to what Kim will see when we fuck, the more she can focus on the effect of your 'gift'."

I was already getting a hard-on just thinking about it.

"Okay, Lorraine. Let's do it," I answered definitively.

"Wonderful, Tom. Thank you," Kim responded. "If it would make you more comfortable, I don't need to watch you masturbate; only Lorraine."

I thought I detected something in her voice, maybe a hint that she really did want to watch, so I decided to find out.

"No, I don't mind if you watch me, too. If it will help Lorraine..." The fact is, I was becoming intensely excited at the possibility of both women watching me jerk off.

"Excellent!" Lorraine exclaimed. "Then shall we go back to the room? Tom, I will take Kim a few minutes to put the sensors on my body and test to make sure everything is working, so why don't you take off your clothes and lie on the bed. "

I must admit that I was already aroused, now by the thought of Dr. Geiler-Callaghan watching me jack off. Of course, it didn't hurt at all that Lorraine would be across and just a few feet away also masturbating. 

We entered the room. It was comfortably warm and with lowered lighting. Lorraine suggested I undress and get on the hospital-style bed already tilted up and facing the bed she would be on. I began undressing while Kim and Lorraine walked into the next room. It was an odd feeling when I got onto the bed -- it wasn't exactly as if I was laying down. I was at an angle so I would easily be able to see Lorraine's entire body. Her bed was angled the same so she could easily see me. Yet neither angle was so steep that we would feel as if we were upright. 

As I lay there, I began thinking about what we were about to do. When I had first met Lorraine, she had asked some blunt and embarrassing questions about my masturbation habits. Over the next few meetings she had moved me from an unwillingness to talk about masturbation to a point where I was regularly masturbating in front of her so she could observe my behavior. Then, we progressed beyond that to where she began simultaneously masturbating with me, just to put me more at ease she said. Then we began to mutually masturbate each other to orgasm, and finally we fucked. It was, of course, all part of her treatment plan for me, but it soon became very clear she was enjoying it as much as I did. As our relationship developed, we both found that solo and mutual masturbation could under different circumstances satisfy us both as much as fucking.

Thanks to Lorraine, I was at this place and time where I could rather comfortably watch Lorraine masturbate while I did the same thing, but now it was with a third person, Dr. Geiler-Callaghan, watching. It seemed surprisingly natural and certainly very pleasurable.

At that moment Lorraine entered the room, completely naked, and took her position on her back on the bed opposite mine. I already had my cock in my hand. The EKG patches on her body were visible but not distracting to either her or me. 

Lorraine's eyes were on fire, and she burned holes in mine to imprint her sexual image in my brain. 

She moved her right hand to her very hairy mound and teased the hair aside to expose her hooded clit. She began slowly. After first gently and then with increasing pressure and frequency moving her fingers around and over her clit, she slipped first one finger then two into her slit. It made a squishing sound. Clearly she was wet. Then she moved her now-wet fingers back to her clit and began to move them side to side across it and sometimes alongside it.

I looked back into her face. Her resolute stare at me had begun to break slightly as the pleasure of her clitoral stimulation began to engulf her. Her eyes fell upon my own erection, and I continued stroking it, slowly, hoping to eventually time my own orgasm to coincide with hers. 

Now her fingers were moving faster and faster across her clit, and her eyes were closed, her body muscles tense. 

She slipped her two middle fingers into her pussy and then rocked her hand so they slid in and out while her palm applied pressure to her clit. I could tell she was getting closer to cumming. Her breathing was very jerky, and her abdominal muscles were contracting involuntarily causing her to bend a little at the middle. She wasn't speaking, but she was making loud sounds revealing the pleasure that seemed synchronized with the now-quickening jerks in her body.

Lorraine's left had moved to her left nipple and began tugging on it, elongating it. She pinched and pulled once or twice on it while still ferociously working over her pussy with her right hand. In another second or two her body became rigidly straight as the leading edge of the orgasm hit her.

"Oh, fuck!" she screamed several times at the top of her lungs. Her eyes opened wide, and her face took on an almost surprised expression. Spasms wracked her body. Her legs twitched as if an electric current was surging through them. At the same time, her thighs clenched down on the hand working her pussy as if to stop it. 

I could no longer contain my own orgasm. I felt its wonderful pain beginning in my abdomen. I stroked my cock faster and faster now, trying desperately to keep up with Lorraine's onrushing orgasm. Finally, with one last loud cry that came deep from within me, my load of jism exploded out of my body and shot across the space separating us. It landed squarely on Lorraine's thighs and ran down between them. 

I continued to stroke until my cum stopped flowing and the orgasm subsided. Then I relaxed back onto the bed.

Across from me, Lorraine's body was still twitching, though not as violently. Her cries had softened, almost kitten-like mews, and her breathing was becoming deeper and more normal again. She finally relaxed against the bed, tears flowing from her now-closed eyes down her cheeks. That concerned me. 

"Are you all right, Lorraine?" I asked.

Her lips moved, but no sounds came out. So she just nodded and tried, feebly, to smile. She still occasionally twitched or shuddered. It was clear that her body was feeling the aftereffects of a thunderous orgasm. I smiled back at her. Message received.

We both lay there for a few minutes to regain our senses. 

After a few minutes, she took a deep breath before speaking, her normal voice having almost completely returned. "That's what I meant before when I said that since you and I have been fucking regularly, I can masturbate more often, more intensely, and can cum more quickly. It almost seems as if my sexual responses clock has been turned back several years."

I must admit my male ego had just been given a big boost. But before I could speak, she arose, took a towel from the bedside stand, wiped the fluids from her hands and legs, and walked toward the door to the adjoining room were Dr. Geiler-Callaghan had been monitoring. As she walked, she looked back over her shoulder and spoke. 

"Tom, there's some towels in the stand next to your bed, too. Why don't you get dressed and then go into my office? Kim and I will join you there so we can talk." 

With that, she turned, opened the door, and walked away. Her slender figure and surprisingly taut ass started my cock twitching again, but I pushed her image out of my mind while I arranged myself and got dressed.

I walked into her office and helped myself to a bottled water from her refrigerator. It was about ten minutes before she and Kim entered. While I was feeling almost drowsy and relaxed, they both were alert, bright, and once again professional. 

I had expected paper charts, but instead Dr. Geiler-Callaghan slipped a thumb drive memory into Lorraine's iMac. After a few seconds, a bunch of graph lines appeared on the 23-inch screen. 

Kim spoke first.

"First, Lorraine, let me reassure you that I see absolutely nothing remarkable in any of these results. Of course, I haven't had a chance to study them in detail, but everything here indicates your heart is in excellent condition. As I explained to you while attaching the sensors, I included extra sensors that would help monitor the characteristics of the blood flow in the major arteries to your brain. I didn't expect to see anything unusual there today, however the purpose of the monitoring today was to get a baseline of readings that can be compared to the readings when you and Tom have intercourse. 

The data recorded today meets all my expectations and requirements for that baseline determination, so I'd suggest we go ahead and schedule the next session sometime between one and two weeks from now. I'd recommend, too, that during that interval, neither of you masturbate. And of course I'd again suggest that you maintain your otherwise normal schedule activities ..."

I interrupted her. "Kim, I'll continue to swim, but if you show up at the pool in that swim suit, it's going to be very difficult for me to comply with your first recommendation." I was semi-serious, not really trying to be funny. She actually blushed! Lorraine smiled and nodded approvingly. 

The doctor regained her composure quickly and continued. " ... and I'd strongly recommend that you not consume any alcohol or other drugs, other than prescriptions in their prescribed dose, for at least 24 hours before our next meeting. 

Now, assuming you both want to continue with the next phase of our testing, what date would be convenient for you both?"

Lorraine checked her appointment book and then suggested, "How about 1 p.m. on Friday the 19th?"

Dr. Geiler-Callaghan quickly agreed. Frankly, I didn't care. Knowing what would be happening that Friday, I would have cut classes or bribed professors to adjust my schedule. So we agreed.

With that, our conversation seemed to be over, I got up to leave. Lorraine took me to the door. I presume Kim went to collect her equipment. 

"Tom, I'm very pleased with the results from today. I hope we'll both have our strength back by next Friday. Now I understand just how hard it was for you not to masturbate when you first started visiting me. See you next Friday." With that, she closed the door behind me.

The following week things seemed to go much better. My thesis committee met with me and actually gave me some encouragement that I felt was long overdue. I was mildly disappointed, however, that Kim had honored my request and not appeared at the pool. The vision of her in that relatively modest, and therefore incredibly sexy, one-piece swimsuit lingered with me. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to slowly run my hands over her body while she was wearing it. That thought almost caused me to violate the no-jacking-off rule. 

The following Friday as I was driving to Lorraine's office, I was still a little concerned about my ability to perform. I envisioned getting to Lorraine's office, then waiting for half an hour or so for Kim to wire her up and test the equipment. I wondered if Lorraine and I would be lying side by side on a bed, waiting for a green light to come on and for Dr. Geiler-Callaghan's voice to come over a PA speaker to tell us to begin fucking. I could almost feel my flaccid cock receding further into my body. The mind plays games with the body at times like this. 

But then I started thinking about the first time Lorraine and I had sex. And with each successive encounter, she had learned a little bit more about what aroused me. I suppose I had learned the same about her. I still found her body hair on her legs and pussy and her armpits to be exciting, but I also found that my sexual pleasure was sometimes enhanced if she was clothed and allowed me to undress her. Perhaps because I found her hairy legs to exciting, I was not aroused when she wore stockings and garter belts. We all have our idiosyncrasies, I guess.

I arrived a couple minutes early and rang the doorbell. Moments later, Lorraine opened the door and greeted me with a rather inscrutable smile. She was wearing a white, long-sleeved laboratory coat that stopped mid-calf on her, so she exposed no skin at all. I had been secretly hoping for the "slut" look but got the "surgeon" look instead. But then my mind flashed briefly to our first sexual encounter. Lorraine had worn an identical lab coat then, too -- and then there was nothing underneath it.

"Come in, Tom. Kim has been here a while."

She took me by the arm and led me toward one of the rooms adjacent to her formal office. I had been in the room before, but when she opened the door, I saw she had changed its decor from impersonal, cold examination room to a warm, inviting, softly lit bedroom. In addition to the queen-size bed, there was a vanity, a loveseat, two night stands, and various knick-knacks in the room. Had I not been in the room when it had been undecorated, I would easily have believed this was Lorraine's own bedroom. I paused in the doorway, but Lorraine gently urged me in. I walked further into the room, rather amazed at its transformation, and I heard the door close behind me.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 02



Lorraine led me to the loveseat where we both sat. 

"Tom, before we go on, I want to ask if you have any reservations about this."

Before I could answer, she continued.

"Because I have. I have a concern that if for some reason you feel you have not adequately performed, you may suffer a setback. You've made excellent progress, and I don't want to undermine that. I'm convinced that in any normal sexual situation now, you will be able to have full and enjoyable intercourse with a woman. 

But this is not exactly a normal situation. Now I'm asking you to participate in what is really a laboratory experiment rather than spontaneous sex. I'm asking you to fuck for science, not for pleasure. Spontaneity is often essential in good sex. I'm quite concerned that this adds an entirely new layer of pressures on you, pressures you may not be quite ready to handle. 

I'm not going to try and talk you into doing this if you don't want to, but it might help if you understand that even male adult entertainment performers have difficulty getting an erection on demand. That's why it sometimes takes far longer than people think for porn movies to be made. Even the 'pros' have times when they simply can't get or sustain an erection. 

So, Tom, what I'm saying is that if you don't want to do this today, both Kim and I will understand completely."

As Lorraine talked, I had been staring into her eyes. They were her "professional" eyes, not her "lust" eyes. Her concern was genuine. She had never before expressed any uncertainty about what she was doing. 

I continued to look at her silently for a few seconds after she stopped. Then, something came over me, a feeling that I had not experienced with her before. I stood up from the loveseat and walked in front of her. She remained seated, watching with a puzzled look. Perhaps she simply expected me to walk out.

Instead, as I stood just a few feet in front of her and between her and the bed, I began to disrobe. First my shoes and socks, then my shirt, then my trousers. I stood in front of her, still in my briefs, so she could see the raging erection the briefs concealed. Her eyes locked on the bulge, then slowly traveled up my body. Her eyes of lust returned and burned into mine. Slowly, without breaking our gaze, I slid the briefs down my legs and stepped out of them. My cock bobbed hard and red in front of her.

After a few seconds I turned and slowly walked toward the bed, then laid down on it on my back. 

Lorraine stood, and her hands grasped the hook-and-loop fastener that ran much of the length of the lab coat. There was that "tearing" sound as she separated the hook-and-loop fastener material, opened the lab coat, and revealed her body beneath it. Unlike our first time fucking, she was not naked. This time she was wearing a filmy bra and bikini briefs. 

Now, I know conventional wisdom says that a woman of 50 should not wear lingerie made for much younger women, but on Lorraine, the bra and bikini briefs were perfect. With her facing me, they accented her firm and shapely legs. They also allowed just the right amount of her black pubic hair to peek out the sides of the briefs and a narrow strip to shoot up toward her navel. The filmy bra did nothing whatsoever to conceal either the visibility or tautness of her nipples. The dark hair on her legs and under her arms contrasted with her light skin.

She let the lab coat slip off and drop to the floor. Her eyes never left mine, and they had changed from the ultra professional "consult with me" look to the by now familiar and almost predatory "I want you to fuck me until I pass out" look I had seen before. 

That look was not an act. Oh, the first time we fucked and she did not know what to expect, she may have been acting a little to give me confidence. But with her first orgasm driven by my "gift" and in each subsequent session when we masturbated each other or fucked, it became clear that her sexual appetites were very real and not contrived. I never gave it much thought that she might be getting as much from our sessions as I. But if she was, well, then so much the better. 

It was that sexual stare, that eye-fuck, that made me forget everything about today's session with Dr. Geiler-Callaghan. The sensor patches on her body faded away. 

She walked slowly toward the bed where I lay, now slowly stroking my cock in my hand. My eyes were fixed on her, though, and I recalled the photos she had shown me the week before. Maybe it was my imagination, but her entire body seemed subtly different. No, her body had not morphed into the body of a 20-something, but it did suggest she was well below 50 and had the sexual appetites of a younger woman as well. All of my senses focused on her now.

She walked alongside the bed, then reached over and pulled my right hand from my cock and placed it on the briefs over her mound. I could feel the swelling, the warmth, and a hint of wetness in addition to the crinkliness of her pubic hair cushion. She controlled my hand and moved it over her mound until I understood that she wanted me to continue rubbing just that way. Then she reached up with both her hands and deftly unfastened her bra. She moved her hands to her breasts, still holding the bra in place, and cupped them enticingly. Then she simply let the bra fall to the floor, exposing her beautiful breasts. The nipples were pink and taut, just begging for my lips to stimulate them. 

Then Lorraine took my hand that had been rubbing her mound and slowly guided it down inside the top of the briefs. I felt her pubic hair against my fingers, and I felt my index and middle finger tenderly containing her clitoral hood. Her breath caught when I applied only the slightest pressure to my fingers, gently squeezing the hood and its bud between them. I applied pressure with my palm to her there. Her eyelids fluttered with the sensations of sex my hand imparted.

After several seconds, maybe a minute, Lorraine came out of her sexual reverie, carefully removed my hand, and stepped back from the bed. She slipped the briefs down past her knees and let them fall to the floor. She stepped out of her shoes and briefs, then walked back to the edge of the bed. 

In one smooth motion, she was on top of me, straddling my thighs and holding them closed. The strength in her legs both surprised and excited me. 

Almost automatically I reached my hands up to cup her breasts, but she intercepted them, grabbing each of my wrists in her hands, and pushing and pinning them to the bed alongside my head. Though I am much stronger than she, I had no desire to overcome her just yet. Her breasts hung seductively just beyond the reach of my mouth. Try as I might, I could not lift my head and body enough to reach them. 

It was then that I noticed that Lorraine's hairy pussy was riding on the underside of my cock which she had pinned between us. She had begun a slight undulating motion causing her clit to rub against my hardness. Her undulations slowly intensified in both length and pressure.

She released my arms and repositioned herself so that we were face to face. There was nothing but sexual fire in her eyes, a look I had seen before. 

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, she brought her mouth down ferociously against mine, driving her tongue into my mouth as if she were trying to fuck me with her tongue. I responded by wrapping her in my arms and holding her on top of me. I held her loosely enough that she could move her nipples against my chest, an action I knew had a sexually explosive effect on her.

Though we had been entangled for only a few minutes, maybe ten or fifteen at most, the constant rubbing of her clit and hot, wet, hairy pussy against my cock was sending a warning signal of pending orgasm to my brain. Since I and presumably she also had abstained from masturbation for over a week, and because I had learned to sense the height of her arousal over months of sex with her, I was sure she was as close as I was to orgasm.

She pushed, hard, against my chest with her hands, digging her fingernails into my skin as she used the force of her upper body to come upright and straddle my lower abdomen. She continued, perhaps running on sexual instinct, to try and undulate her pussy against any part of my body she could contact. Her face was reddening now, her facial muscles contorting when sexual nerve impulses struck her. Her hair was disheveled, matted in places to the perspiration on her face. Her breathing was erratic and deep.

Lorraine slid her hand down along her pussy, underneath her, and found my cock. In what must have almost been a semiconscious motion, she lifted her body on her knees, put the head of my cock at her pussy opening, and settled down onto it. As my cock slid into her, its thickness stretching her and its heat searing her, she gave a low, guttural growl. I felt her pussy muscles kneading me, trying desperately to satisfy their need emanating from her mind.

Lorraine's pelvic thrusts became more urgent now. She sat on top of me, the fingers of her right hand flicking her clit to the upward thrusts of my cock into her. So intense were my sexual heaves that I lifted her entire body off the bed, then held her up with my arched back while she continued to stimulate her clit. When my body settled back to the bed, she rotated and thrust her clit against my body with my cock still inside her. I could tell from the intensity and frequency of the thrusts that she was seconds away from cumming. I could feel my own orgasm starting sharply, almost painfully, from deep within me.

I reached up and grabbed both her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. I knew the effect it would have on her -- and on me.

But just a moment before my own orgasm hit me, and I exploded inside her, her eyes flew open, her facial muscles contorted in orgasmic pleasure, and her body began to spasm as every muscle in her body became involved in her orgasm. Her mouth was open as if to scream, but no sound came out. I continued to thrust my erupting cock deeply into her. Her eyes suddently clenched shut and the muscles in her arms and legs quivered while the sensations of orgasm swept over her. 

Several seconds later, in the instant her orgasm began to subside, she gave out with a long, low growl and collapsed on top of me, even as I continued to empty my jism inside of her. She was gasping for breath, perhaps because her muscular contractions had kept her from breathing for many seconds. 

We lay together, she on top, me still inside her, both exhausted and covered in perspiration. I had not yet pulled out of her, but I could feel my cum flowing out of her and between us. Now she lay with her weight fully on me, motionless except for her breathing. It was becoming more regular now, but her weight on me told me she had no strength. I made no effort to pull out of her, but my now-shrinking cock was receding on its own. 

After several minutes, she stirred, then rolled off of me, still not speaking. Her eyes were open, looking at me warmly, but still she did not speak. In a few more minutes, she leaned toward me, kissed me on the lips, and then arose and walked into the next room. 

I lay there another minute or two, surprised at how much of my own strength had been sapped by her sexual energy. Finally, I arose, gathered my clothes, and went into the shower room. There was a note for me, suggesting that I shower and then come into Lorraine's office to meet with her and Kim.

The shower helped reinvigorate me. I dressed then proceeded to Lorraine's office. Instead of Lorraine sitting behind the desk, it was Dr. Kim Geiler-Callaghan. I expressed my genuine concern at Lorraine's absence.

"Don't worry, Tom. Lorraine's fine. I removed the sensors from her body, then she showered. She's completely exhausted. Please, sit down."

The doctor realized she had not completely reassured me. 

"She really is fine, Tom. Please, don't worry. I've looked at the data you and she generated, and there is absolutely no cause for concern about her health. It will take me at least a couple of days to fully analyze it. I told this to Lorraine, that there's really not much for us to discuss until that analysis is done. She's going to nap for a while. You really did wear her out, even though she was on top. I've rarely seen her so completely relaxed. She will call you and arrange for the three of us to get together once I've got the results assembled. In the meantime, do you have any questions?"

I started to speak, but my voice was weak and feeble, and I seemed a bit incoherent.

Kim laughed lightly. "Now you know why Lorraine needed a nap! In fact, I'm a little concerned about your driving to your home. Are you sure you'll be all right?"

I nodded.

She gave me an understanding smile. "All right, Tom. But if you need to pull off and rest, don't hesitate to do it. Even though you're in your early 20's, you may not fully understand just how much physical and nervous energy you expended in your session with Lorraine."

She got up from behind Lorraine's desk and walked to the refrigerator in the office. She found an energy bar and a small bottle of water. She handed both of them to me. 

"Sit here for a few minutes. Eat and drink these before you leave to go home," she ordered. "Lorraine will call in a few days."

She walked out. As she did, I watched her ass wiggle a bit under her skirt, and my gaze dropped to her shapely calves. Given my own exertion and depletion, I was surprised to feel a twinge of sexual restoration occurring in me.

The following Tuesday, I returned from my university classes and found a voicemail message from Lorraine.

"Hi, Tom. Please give me a call so we can meet with Kim and go over the test results. And Tom, thank you."

I called her immediately.

"Hi, Tom," she said. "How are you doing?" She asked it in a more friendly than clinical way.

"I'm doing okay, I guess, but I'm still a little ... I don't know ... sore or tender or something."

"I'm not surprised," she replied. "I rode you pretty hard. I'm sorry if I was a little wild, but I couldn't help myself. It's almost frightening that each time we have sex, my climaxes get better and better. I can't remember ever cumming that hard, even when I was younger. It's becoming like an addiction -- but in a good way.

Anyway, Kim is ready to meet with us and go over her analysis of my charts. When would be a good time for you? She would prefer Friday afternoon again, but she said she could adjust her schedule if necessary."

"Friday is fine. What time? Two?"

"Yes, she had suggested two, too, so I'll see you then. It shouldn't take more than an hour." 

Lorraine greeted me at the door that next Friday. She was wearing a no-sex-today outfit, which was actually fine with me. She had so thoroughly drained me a week earlier that even though I was getting hard-ons, I wasn't producing much cum when I'd masturbate. And even though I hadn't masturbated since Wednesday, I really didn't have fucking on my mind -- or anywhere else.

She took my arm and led me into her office. Kim was already there, seated behind Lorraine's desk, with her data displayed on Lorraine's computer. When we entered, Kim stood and extended her hand, professionally.

"Tom, it's good to see you again. Thank you for coming today. Even though Lorraine and I could have discussed the results of last Friday's encounter, we both thought it would be better if you were here."

She motioned for me to sit.

"Now," she continued, "Let me once again reassure both of you that Lorraine's heart is doing just fine. Tom, you didn't know it, but I had her come to the office yesterday. We did an echocardiogram. Her heart is actually improving since her last echo about a year ago. That is highly unusual. So that's the good news.

And let me quickly add there really isn't any bad news, in case you were waiting for another shoe to drop. Unfortunately, though, the data from the tests we did last Friday don't really tell us what has caused her remarkable improvement. The data does not confirm or refute that your sexual interaction may have contributed to it. I don't think we really expected those data to produce conclusive results, though. In fact, I would have been surprised if they had. Still, we can't rule in or out that possibility. 

I wish I could be more informative, but I can only recount what the data shows. Do either of you have any questions?"

Lorraine spoke up first, and her response was more personal than professional. And blunt.

"Kim, is there any reason why Tom and I shouldn't continue to have sex regularly?" 

"No, not that I can see. Obviously if either of you have any adverse side effects you might want to reduce the frequency of interaction or even stop briefly to see if the side effects go away. And having watched and heard both of you last Friday, I suspect its absolutely pointless to suggest that you both might want to be a little less aggressive." She laughed lightly before continuing. "But I think your own bodies will guide you on that point."

"Doctor," I started to ask a question.

"Kim, Tom, please," she interjected.

"Kim, I guess you're telling us that there was also nothing in your data that might tell you about the electrical charge my body builds up during arousal, right?"

"That's correct, Tom. Of course, the sensors were only on Lorraine, so I really wouldn't have expected any data about your chemoelectric or physioelectric responses. But you've raised a very good point I wanted to bring up before we leave. 

Your 'gift' as Lorraine calls it -- appropriately, I'd say from her reactions when you two are having sex -- is unique. I've been unable to find anything in the medical literature that even mentions it appearing during sexual arousal and having an effect on either party. Of course, there has been a substantial amount of research and reporting on the body's chemoelectric properties. Indeed, both our hearts and our brains produce electrical impulses. The chemicals in the brain that produce arousal and orgasm in specific areas of the brain have been researched as well. 

I haven't looked into the instrumentation available to monitor your and your partner's brain activity unobtrusively. Clearly, neither you nor she was inhibited sexually by the wireless EKG leads, so that might be a place to start. Because I haven't personally experienced your 'gift', I really don't have any special insight into what it might take to precisely record what is happening inside you. CT scans and other instruments that have been tried to monitor women while they were masturbating were useful but inconclusive.

What I'd suggest you do is talk with Lorraine and see what you both think would be best for both of you. From what she has told me, you have made remarkable progress, so neither of us want to do anything that might diminish that."

Lorraine nodded in agreement. We talked for a few more minutes, then Kim said she needed to leave to get to her office for an appointment. She arose to leave, so I took that as my cue to leave, too.

"Tom, could you please wait? I have some things to discuss with you," Lorraine asked.

Kim looked at her and suppressed an almost imperceptible smile. I barely caught it. I sat back down while Lorraine escorted Kim to the door.

"So, Tom," she said when she returned, "What do you think about Kim? Do you trust her?" 

"Well, yeah. I mean, you and I were both evidently comfortable while she watched us masturbate and fuck, and I can talk with her without getting too embarrassed. And obviously her watching didn't keep me from getting a hard-on, so yeah, I guess I trust her. Why?"

There was a pause, a moment or more of indecision before Lorraine continued.

"She would like to interview you further to try and get a better idea about what may be happening in your body that causes charged electrical transfer during sex. Would you have any particular problem with that?"




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 02



"No, I don't think so. But what will she get from an interview or two that you didn't?"

Lorraine looked at me, stared really, as if she wasn't quite sure how to proceed.

"Her perspective as a physician is different from mine, especially with her interest in neurology. She has asked me to allow her to once again examine all of the medical records you provided so she can structure an inquiry from a neurological perspective. Would you object to that?"

"No, of course not," I replied honestly. Then she continued down a different road.

"Tom, do you feel any sexual attraction for Kim?"

I thought back to seeing her in the swimsuit at the university pool. My cock twitched.

"Yeah, I mean, I think so. Other than the time at the pool, I haven't really given her much thought."

"Let me ask that slightly differently. If you were in a sexual situation with her, do you think you would want to have sex with her? I'm not asking if you would be able to, only if you would want to."

Sensing Lorraine had some purpose other than mere curiosity for asking, I thought carefully about my answer.

"Yeah, I think if everything was 'just right' (I gestured with 'air' quotation marks), I would want to. I mean, I'm pretty sure I could get a hard-on. And I'm pretty sure I could fuck her, too. At least I know that even if I couldn't, she wouldn't laugh at me."

"Tom, you have really come a long ways since we first met. You have matured sexually and emotionally as well. I'm asking, because I suspect that some of her interview questions will be highly personal, maybe arousing. I hope that you will be as direct and complete in your answers to her as you have been to me."

"I'll try," was all I could say. 

"Fine, then I'll let Kim know you have agreed to sit down and talk with her and that she can review all of your records and videos I have. I'm going to suggest that for now you and she meet here rather than somewhere else. That way, you are both protected from prying eyes and ears, and if you both agree, we can record your meeting."

As I drove home after the meeting, I found my mind recalling the image of Kim in the swimsuit. That night as I lay in bed, I masturbated in a sexual fantasy with Kim. It was the first time I had allowed myself to fantasize fully to orgasm with her as my focus.

Two days passed, then Lorraine called. I agreed to meet Kim at Lorraine's office just three days later. When I arrived at the appointed time, I was surprised to have Kim rather than Lorraine greet me at the front door. Everything about her appearance and demeanor said "doctor" rather than "sex partner." She welcomed me warmly but professionally.

As she closed the door behind me, she said, "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me to discuss your case, Tom. Lorraine has suggested that you and I should meet privately for today's discussion." We made small talk while walking to Lorraine's office.

"I have to say, Tom, that I was more than a little surprised when you allowed me to monitor and observe you and Lorraine together. She has clearly helped you to overcome the difficulty that caused you to seek her out in the first place. But you need to accept a good deal of the credit yourself for being willing to speak and act so openly. It's very obvious you trust Lorraine, and you should know that she trusts you as well."

We entered the office, and I seated myself in front of the desk while Kim sat where Lorraine would usually be.

"I've gone back over your records, Tom, including all the physicians' records and test results you have provided to Lorraine. At the outset, let me reassure you that you are in excellent health. Clearly your affinity for swimming is helping you now, but if you keep it up, you should really see big dividends as you age.

I completely agree with Lorraine's evaluation of your medical history. There is nothing in there that might conclusively explain your 'gift.' So, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask some questions that may not have been asked before, or at least weren't answered in your records. 

First, did you ever have a serious illness or injury as an infant or toddler, maybe something not in your records but your parents may have told you about?"

I thought about it, but had to tell her that aside from the usual childhood illnesses like measles, mumps, and chicken pox, I had been pretty healthy. No broken bones, no head injuries, no other serious injuries.

"Have you ever had a serious electrical shock or a sports injury, something that maybe knocked you out even for only a moment?"

Until she mentioned it, I had forgotten about an incident in high school.

"Yeah, when I was in high school, I was in auto shop working on a car. I touched a coil terminal on an engine while it was running. The shock knocked me down, maybe out, for a few seconds."

"And did the school call paramedics? Did you go to the hospital?"

"No. Actually, no one else was nearby. Nobody saw what happened, and I sure didn't tell them how stupid I'd been."

"So no one, even the teacher, knew what had happened to you? How long were you unconscious for?"

"I guess no one knew. No one said anything. I couldn't have been out for more than just a few seconds, otherwise someone would have noticed."

"All right, Tom. Since you were in high school when this happened, I assume you were probably masturbating by that time, right?"

"Yeah."

"Immediately after the incident at school, did you happen to notice any changes in your sexual performance when you masturbated? For example, was it easier or more difficult to get an erection? Or was the intensity of your orgasm affected? Maybe the quantity of your ejaculate?"

"No, I didn't notice any changes at all. Really, I never gave the shock any more thought. There wasn't any reason to."

"All right, Tom. In your early meetings with Lorraine, you described your first sexual encounter with a girl ..." She flipped through her notes. "Yes, here it is. You and she were seniors in high school. So did the electrical shock happen before you started dating ... Linda?"

"Yeah, I was a sophomore at the time I got shocked."

"And you indicated that you and Linda only mutually masturbated each other, you never had penile-vaginal intercourse, correct?"

"Right."

"Okay, Tom, I want you to think back to when you were dating Linda. You described her orgasms to Lorraine very vividly. It seems that her most intense orgasms came when you were fingering her and you came while she was stroking you. Is that right?"

"Yeah, she didn't always cum as hard when I just finger-fucked her." I must have looked embarrassed by my crude language.

"That's fine, Tom. Please speak freely."

"Okay, well anyway, like I said, she didn't always cum when I just fingered her but she didn't jerk me off. Sometimes she did, but not always. But yeah, when she was jerking me off at the same time I was fingering her and I would cum, she would always cum. She'd start bucking and screaming. The first time it happened, it really kind of scared me. I was afraid I had hurt her. After she calmed down, she made it real clear she hadn't been hurt. She wanted more. After she figured out she could always cum if I was fingering her while she was jerking me off, she always wanted to do it that way from then on."

Kim smiled at me. "And I'm sure that was okay with you, wasn't it?" She didn't wait for an answer before continuing.

"Now, Lorraine's notes reflect that you and Linda only mutually masturbated each other. And they also reflect that Linda did not want to let you fuck her. I'm curious, Tom, were you both pretty much fully clothed during all your encounters?"

I hadn't given that any thought before, so it took me some time to recall.

"Yeah, actually we pretty much did everything by feel, usually under a blanket in the car so no one else might see either. I did sometimes get a glimpse of her breast, but never her pussy. I always just slipped my hand up under her skirt or down inside the top of her pants or shorts. I don't know if she ever saw my cock except when I was cleaning up."

She made a few notes, then continued questioning me.

"And you never tried to force Linda to let you fuck her, right? I mean, you told her you wanted to and maybe tried to persuade her, but she didn't want to, so you both settled into a comfortable compromise of mutual masturbation?"

"Yeah, she said she wanted to 'save herself' for marriage. I guess I kind of respected that, even though she and I were pretty regularly jerking each other off. I got the idea she might already have a regular boyfriend."

"Yet you and she were both mutually satisfied by your masturbation sessions, so you didn't push it to fuck her?"

"Yeah, I mean, I was kind of surprised that she could get as much pleasure out of my finger-fucking her as if we'd actually been fucking."

"All right, Tom. Now, I want to ask you some questions about your encounter with ..." Again, she flipped through her notes. "... with Sharon, your friend's mother at the lake cabin."

"Okay."

"Clearly she came on to you. Tell me, Tom, what do you remember most about what she was wearing?"

"That's easy. When she whipped off her wraparound skirt, she was wearing a one-piece swimsuit, a lot like the one you were wearing at the university pool. It was smooth and fit very tight. It really made her look sexy."

"Wouldn't she have looked better if she had been wearing a very revealing bikini, or maybe nothing at all?"

"No, there was just something really -- I don't know -- sexy is the only word I can think of. I mean, her peeling it off slowly really was sexier than if she had just been wearing nothing. Of course, after she stepped out of it, she was wearing nothing, but her stripping herself out of it was really a turn-on."

I detected a slight but brief smile from Kim. 

"Tom, you obviously knew Sharon was married when you were contemplating fucking her. Did you have any reservations about having sex with her because you knew that? Or did it even matter?"

She saw I was embarrassed by the moral dilemma posed by her question. But I felt like I had to be as honest with Kim as with Lorraine.

"No," I said with some shame apparent in my voice, "I probably didn't even think about it. I just wanted to fuck her."

"Good, Tom. Don't beat yourself up for having a very normal pubescent male reaction. Like I said, she came on to you. She seduced you. Believe me, she wanted to have sex with you as badly as you wanted her. Your reaction was perfectly normal.

It won't surprise you to learn that women often enjoy sex with younger men. And if Sharon had experienced your 'gift' in the same way as Lorraine, I am quite certain Sharon would have come back for more."

Once again Kim thumbed through her own notes she had made from Lorraine's. Then she hit me with a question Lorraine hadn't asked.

"Tom, I see you're an only child. Have you ever masturbated while you were fantasizing about sex with a family member?"

She probably knew the answer from the look on my face before she heard it from me. It took an eternity for me to start talking, but Kim was patient.

"Yeah, in high school I used to spend a lot of time at my cousin's house. In the summer she would mow the lawn while my aunt and uncle were at work. I offered to mow the lawn for her, but she said she wanted to be outside. She is my age and has great tits and legs. She'd always wear short shorts and a tight low-cut halter top. I'd go in the house and look out the second floor window while she was mowing the lawn down below. I could look right down her top and see her boobs. Sometimes I'd jack off while I was watching her. I kind of thought how great it would be to fuck her."

"Did you ever make any sexual advances toward her or did you just fantasize about fucking her?"

"No, I never even tried to kiss her or cop a feel or anything. I mean, that would have been incest, right?"

Kim seemed to ignore that question and moved on.

"So is it fair to say you might not feel there's anything wrong with fantasizing about having sex with a relative as long as you don't really do it?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean, Jaynie really has great legs and tits, but I'd never really fuck her."

"Well, did you cum as hard when you were watching Jaynie and jerking off as when you were finger-fucking Linda?"

"I guess there wasn't much difference."

"Tom, how do you feel about people using sexual fantasies to enhance their own sexual pleasure?"

"Well, I mean, I did that thinking about fucking Jaynie, so I guess it wouldn't bother me."

"Not even if you were with a woman and she shared with you that she sometimes fantasized about having sex with one of her family members -- maybe her brother or her son. Would that affect your ability to have sex with her right then?"

Another one of those dilemma questions. 

"It would depend on whether she was serious about it. If she was just using her fantasy to get turned on with me, I'd probably go along with it. But if I thought she might actually have sex with a close relative ... well, I guess I'd have to give it some thought. I mean, it's kind of between them but ... I just don't know."

"That's okay, Tom. That was one of those questions that doesn't really have a right and wrong answer." 

"Kim, why are you asking me questions about fantasies and stuff? How does that relate to Lorraine or me?"

"I'm just trying to get a clearer picture of your boundaries, to figure out what limits and enhances your sexual encounters."

I didn't really understand, but what she said sounded reasonable, so I just shrugged. She moved on.

"You know that Lorraine allowed me to view the videos of your encounters with her, right?"

I nodded again.

"Tom, I assume you've probably watched some porn. There are a few websites that show women having actual orgasms, not what I call the fakegasms that most porn videos have today. Have you ever watched any of them?"

"I don't know. I mean, how do you know what's real and what's fake?"

"Great question, Tom." She then went on to explain about the neurochemistry of orgasms. She also explained how most women react and how their bodies respond when they are having a real orgasm rather than a fake one. 

After the explanation she pulled up a website on Lorraine's computer. Kim said the website was one she knew showed actual orgasms, not fake ones. Then she asked me to look and listen to several women having orgasms. She asked me to focus on just their faces. I looked at her with a "You've got to be kidding me," expression. 

"Yes, I know Tom, it's going to be hard..."

"It already is," I interrupted before she could finish.

She burst out laughing. "I guess I should have said 'difficult'," she responded. "Anyway, do the best you can to focus on their faces."

After I had watched about six or so, she clicked out of the website.

"All right, Tom. Now, did you see any collective similarities in the women's faces as they were cumming?"

Not knowing exactly what she was looking for, I just blurted out, "Well, their faces were all pinched tight when they came."

"Muscular constriction and tension. Good observation. Did you notice anything else?"

"Some were loud, some didn't make much sound at all. And it looked like most of them almost stopped breathing for a time."

"Okay, that's related to muscular tension, but those are good observations, too. Anything else?"

"Well, their eyes were closed, but I guess that's the facial muscle thing again."

"Right. Now, Tom, I want to show you some videos of Lorraine cumming while you and she were fucking. Again, I'd like you to focus on her face. In fact, I've digitally zoomed so about all you will be able to see is her face. This time, look for any differences between Lorraine's and the other women's faces during orgasm."

She played the video excerpts. Again, there were about half a dozen, and they each lasted only a half minute or so during Lorraine's actual orgasms.

"So, Tom, did you notice anything significantly different?"

"It seemed to me like whenever she cums when I'm cumming inside her, she has a look of shock on her face, like she wasn't expecting something."

"Can you describe exactly what you mean?"

"Well, her eyes seem to fly open rather than pinch shut like the other women's eyes do. And her mouth is open rather than tightly shut. You know, she has kind of a surprised or shocked expression."

"Excellent, Tom! Then what?"

I had to think for a few seconds. "Well, that only lasts for a few seconds. Then she starts looking like the other women's faces did when they came." 

Kim started to speak, but I kept talking.

"You said just to watch her face, but I remember something else. It seemed to me that at the same time her eyes and mouth were different, her body was -- I don't know how to describe it exactly -- maybe shivering or almost vibrating."

"Very good observation, Tom. Thank you. Now, if you recall, and I won't be surprised if you don't, but at the moment when Lorraine's eyes were open like you described, can you remember what her muscles felt like around your cock?"

I paused to think about it. "I was kind of enjoying it, so I really don't. Sorry."

"That's perfectly all right, Tom. Given what's happening to your body when you're cumming, I'm surprised you can recall as much as you do."

She paused again to review her notes.

"Tom, I think we've gone far enough today. I'd suggest we spend a few minutes meeting with Lorraine and talking with her. I'm working on a theory about your 'gift' I'd like to discuss briefly with both of you."

She picked up the phone and punched the intercom button. After a brief conversation, she hung up. Moments later, Lorraine joined us in her office. She was smiling as she entered and sat in the chair next to mine. 

"Lorraine, Tom. Well, after reviewing all the data you've both provided, and now after my initial interview with you, Tom, I'm forming a theory about Tom's 'gift.' Mind you, this isn't anything final, certainly nothing near the further research that would need to be done, but it appears to me that Tom's 'gift' may actually be two 'gifts.' 

The first 'gift' is most likely a chemoelectric discharge that sends an unusually focused message to his partner's brain to simply release more of the chemicals that our body interprets as a message to orgasm. That would certainly account for the repeatability, intensity, and duration of your partner's orgasm, Tom. It would also account for the almost equal but opposite intensity of the relaxation your partner experiences as she comes down from her orgasm. 

The second 'gift' is more behavioral than physiological. Lorraine, you have done a marvelous job in getting Tom to talk about his own sexual behavior, something very difficult for most people. But in opening up to you and me, he has revealed an uncanny ability to gain his partner's trust during sex. I'll try and explain this as simply as I can, Tom. You have a remarkable ability to read and respect your partner's boundaries. Again, I'm oversimplifying, but your partner somehow senses that you will do nothing she does not want to have done with her. She may not even know that is what she's going through, but it is. That trust factor works its way into the portions of her brain that sometimes inhibit women from enjoying sex. Think of it as your way of overcoming a cultural inhibition. The end result is that her first time with you will be the least enjoyable sex she will have with you. It is also the most restrained she will be. Each successive sexual encounter with you will be progressively easier and more enjoyable.

Unfortunately, without further research and contact with both of you, I can't really do much more to locate the areas of the brain that may be affected by Tom's 'gifts.' Neither can I measure exactly what is going on at any particular moment. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 02



Consequently, Lorraine, I can only speculate about why Tom's 'gifts' may have reduced or even eliminated your A-Fib and why they have also appeared to have reversed your normal aging signs. The increased 'dump' of your brain chemicals during orgasm is causing a 'high' the way some drugs do. Because you go higher, you come down harder. In your case, because the drug is internally created and regulated by your own body, the coming down manifests itself as increased relaxation almost as if you had taken a tranquilizer or mild sedative. Except it's natural and insofar as I can tell, not as harmful as if you were taking a manufactured pharmaceutical. 

Unfortunately, I also can't predict if your A-Fib would return or if your aging would resume if you and Tom were to stop having sex. I can predict that it is likely your sexual responses will continue to be pleasurable, but whether they will plateau, increase or decrease..."

She trailed off with a shrug. 

Lorraine spoke first. "So, Kim, are you suggesting we change anything we're doing?"

"You mean like having sex less frequently?"

"Yes."

"Good God, Lorraine, why would you want to do that?" Kim asked with a laugh. "Most women our age would kill to have a much younger sexual partner like Tom."

She glanced at me as if to reinforce the compliment she had just delivered -- or maybe to make a visual suggestion. Then she continued.

"Seriously, though, I haven't seen any harmful effects in what you've both been doing so far. So, as long as your general health remains good and you're enjoying yourselves, as you obviously are, I'd let your own bodies be your guide. You should both expect periods when one or the other of you will have less interest in sex, so don't let that alarm you. But no, I certainly wouldn't change for the sake of changing."

She looked at both Lorraine and me with an expression I couldn't really read. I hadn't said anything, because I didn't really have any questions I felt Kim could answer. When I didn't speak, Lorraine did.

"Kim, thank you. I assume you would like to continue to have contact with both Tom and me, both individually and together?"

"Yes, since you're my patient, Lorraine, I still want to monitor you monthly for a while to see if there's any sign your A-Fib is returning and to watch for any other changes that so far have not shown up. And if you wouldn't object, since Tom is your client and not my patient, I would like your permission to occasionally talk with him and then with both of you together. 

And Tom, if you have a regular physician, I'd like your permission to speak with him. As a neurocardiologist I would very much like to continue to monitor your heart. The benefit to you and your doctor is that I am already more aware of your unique condition, your 'gift,' than your doctor. But, as I'm sure you realize, it would be necessary for me to reveal to your doctor some of the circumstances surrounding your condition."

"I don't have a regular doctor, Kim. I mean, I really don't get sick often enough to need a regular doctor."

"I understand completely, Tom," she replied. "I'm thrilled that your health is so good that you haven't needed one. May I suggest, then, that you allow me to recommend an internist? Since we're not completely sure of the origin of your 'gift,' we're not completely sure what's happening in your body. I don't think there's any hidden harm being done, but I do think you would benefit from having a doctor you could go to for even what appears to be a common ache, pain, or illness. It would be a doctor whom you could trust and with whom both Lorraine and I could freely consult on your case."

"I guess it wouldn't do any harm."

"Fine, Tom. I'll get back to you to discuss that further. Now, if neither of you have any questions, I'll go back to my office and write up my findings." She looked at both Lorraine and me. Hearing nothing from either of us, she retrieved the thumb drive from Lorraine's computer and got up to leave.

I assumed we were finished, so I got up to walk out with her.

"Tom," Lorraine spoke. "Would you please wait. I would like to talk with you for a few minutes if you have time."

"Sure," I said as I sat back down in the chair. I glanced at Kim. She looked at Lorraine with a rather enigmatic smile, then left. 

Lorraine walked behind her desk and sat where Kim had been.

"Tom, you recall my asking earlier if you had any sexual attraction towards Kim?"

"Sure."

"I was asking for a specific reason, not just out of curiosity. 

You see, Kim is not only my cardiologist; she is my client as well. She has a condition that we're thinking your 'gift' might be able to remedy while at the same time helping her and me determine exactly what that 'gift' involves.

Let me explain Kim's condition. You already know she is a medical doctor. She is 43 years old, married to a man much older than she is. She is the mother of a son who's 19 and a daughter who's 20, both in college. Since the birth of her last child, her daughter, she has been completely unable to experience an orgasm. 

Now understand, Tom, that experiencing an orgasm during sexual intercourse is less important to most women than to a man. Many women, maybe most, enjoy very satisfying sexual relations without having an orgasm each time. Still, Kim would like to at least be able to masturbate to orgasm, particularly with her husband's diminished interest and capability to have sexual relations with her. 

There is no apparent physiological reason for her condition. She can be sexually aroused to just the point of orgasm, but then it's as if someone throws a switch, and instead of orgasming, her sexual arousal is quickly suppressed. She and I both think that the barrier is a psychological one, but neither of us have been able to identify it, let alone overcome it."

"That sounds a little like what was happening with me," I said.

"Precisely, Tom! That was exactly what I thought. You had some sort of barrier -- we still haven't really identified it -- that kept you from sustaining an erection at the moment you needed it most, the moment when you needed to penetrate your partner's vagina. In your case, working together we enabled you to successfully overcome your barrier. I can attest to that! 

Kim has her own barrier. She and I have tried a variety of approaches and appliances, and although she can bring herself or be brought right to the edge of orgasm, she has so far been unable to climax."

Lorraine was watching me very carefully, and once again it was almost as if she could read my mind. 

"Yes, Tom. I did have sex with her myself. I tried oral stimulation, manual stimulation, and just about any sexual position you might conceive of two women having. If you had been there, you would have been jerking off until you passed out. 

She tried vibrators, lubricants, hand-held and worn devices and even a Sybian, but in every case, she was unable to orgasm."

"So how do you think I might be able to help?" I had to ask.

"To put it bluntly, Tom, I hope you will be aroused and able to have sex with Kim. I hope that your 'gift' will be more powerful than whatever her obstacle to orgasm is. I hope that if you can give her the kind of orgasms you give me, that somehow their intensity and persistence will loose her own mind to be able to once again fully enjoy sexual intercourse or at least orgasm during masturbation. We know that a human brain damaged by traumatic injury can sometimes compensate. You'll even hear doctors call it 'rewiring itself.' We're hoping your 'gift' might somehow rewire her brain to bypass whatever barrier is preventing her orgasm.

At the same time, Tom, I think your having sexual contact with her would be good for you, too. You and I have been having sex regularly now for about a year, and you have never once failed to sustain an erection. During other regular office visits, I have manually stimulated you just to the edge of ejaculation, then measured your penis length, thickness, and hardness. You are showing no signs whatsoever of losing your ability to achieve and sustain an erection. I think you have completely overcome your own challenge, but I think that your success would be firmly cemented in your own mind if you are able to successfully penetrate yet another woman. It would be even more reassuring to you if you were able to bring that woman, possibly Kim, to orgasm."

"That's all well and good, Lorraine, but I am very attracted to you sexually. You've said it yourself -- good sex requires that both people be in synch mentally and physically. What if Dr. Geiler-Callaghan doesn't find me attractive enough for sex? What if whatever chemistry that's essential just isn't there? What then?"

"All reasonable and good questions, Tom. Kim has seen you in the videos you and I have made, and now she has met you in person and gotten to know you. And of course, she has seen you masturbate, and she has seen you and me have exceptionally fulfilling sex. 

I have discussed this proposal with her, and with almost the same reservations you expressed, she believes you would be a suitable sex partner. That sounded awfully clinical, didn't it? Let me put it a little differently: She is quite certain that in the right setting under the right conditions, she would have no reservations about having sex with you. She is certain you and she would have very fulfilling sex even if it did not result in her cumming. She has no doubts about her ability to satisfy you, and she also has no doubts about your ability to satisfy her. The only lingering doubt is her own ability to overcome the barrier blocking her orgasms. And for what it's worth, I concur with her assessment. 

My concern, though, is that you may suffer some sort of emotional setback if you don't successfully bring her to orgasm. Again, I'm concerned that Kim and I may be putting too much pressure on you to perform sexually in circumstances where your definition of success can not be attained. Kim may have some condition that completely precludes her having an orgasm -- ever -- under any circumstances and stimulation. I simply don't want you to assume responsibility for any part of her challenge, something no one may be able to overcome."

I didn't quite know how to respond, so I thought for a while about what Lorraine had said. She sat quietly, patiently, while I mulled it over. Finally, I just let it spill out.

"Look, Lorraine, I have to be honest with you. I've jacked off at home a few times thinking about stripping Kim out of that swimsuit and fucking her. But fantasizing and doing are two different things. I'm not a human dildo that can fuck on demand, and I don't think Kim is an inflatable fuck doll either." 

There was probably a little more anger in my voice than I had intended. I was more frustrated than angry, and Lorraine seemed to intuitively sense that. She responded patiently rather than defensively.

"You're exactly right, Tom. It is entirely possible that although you are both sexually attracted to each other in your minds, neither of you might want to carry that attraction through to actually having sex. The good thing is, though, that neither of you are playing games with each other. Neither of you have ulterior motives. You've both gotten to know each other here, and she's seen you with me in the most intimate of circumstances. 

My point is that I believe you could meet privately with Kim, and you could both discuss your concerns. Now, that might take some of the 'mystery' or 'anticipation' out of it, or it might intensify your sexual attraction for each other. And that's exactly what I would suggest to both of you that you do: Meet privately and talk.

I'm even going to suggest that you not meet here, because I'm concerned that would put too much pressure on both of you to either rush into something or abandon this prematurely. I'd suggest that if you're willing to meet with Kim, you should call her and arrange a meeting. I do not need to know any of the details unless and until both of you want to involve me again. If you're amenable to that, Kim has given me permission to provide you with her private telephone number. And if you'd prefer not to proceed with her any further, she and I will completely understand."

"What kind of timetable are you looking at, Lorraine?" I asked.

"That is entirely up to you and Kim, Tom. And just to be clear, when you and Kim became my clients, you both agreed to not have any contact outside this office. You are both released completely from that agreement. I do ask, however, that whatever transpires between you and Kim, you keep it between just the three of us. None of us would derive any benefit from having our association revealed publicly."

"Lorraine, are you suggesting that you and I should not continue to have sex?" I asked with my now familiar bluntness. 

She laughed easily. "Not on your life!" she answered. But then a bit more seriously, she said, "There will likely come a time when we both decide that continued sexual contact between you and me wouldn't be a good idea, but believe me, we're nowhere near that point yet."

As if to emphasize her last remark, she stood up, walked around her desk, hiked up her calf-length skirt, and straddled me as I sat in the chair. She positioned herself so that her pussy was right against my cock, separated only by her briefs and my jeans and undershorts. Her breasts touched my chest, and her face was just inches from mine. Her eyes had their wild-sex look, not their cool professional look.

My hands went on autopilot, and I reached down to place them on her calves. I could feel the hair on her legs and the heat from her skin. I began to slowly stroke her calves, my erection growing with each stroke. She could feel its hardness through the clothing separating us. Her eyes glistened as her lust intensified. She had begun very slightly undulating her pussy, rubbing against my cock. Even her slightest movement was exciting. Though we were fully clothed, our sexual senses were running wild. 

While I continued to slowly glide my hands up and down her hairy legs, she clasped my face in her hands. I opened my mouth, expecting her to kiss me, but instead, she took my lower lip between her teeth and bit down, hard enough to be felt but not hard enough to draw blood. She held my lip captive for a few seconds, then covered my mouth with hers. At exactly the same moment she drove her tongue into my mouth, she began dry-humping me even harder, then harder and faster again. The intensity of the sexual urge that imparted to me caused me to tighten my grip on her legs with my hands. 

All I was doing had to tell her that even though we were both fully clothed, I was getting very close to an orgasm. 

I removed my hands from her legs and began fumbling with my belt and zipper, desperately wanting to free my cock before drenching my clothing with cum. She grabbed my wrists and pulled them away. At the same time she intensified the grinding of her pussy against me. 

The orgasm hit me like a bolt of lightening. I cried out loudly which had the effect of both intensifying my orgasm and adding force to the expelling of my jism. I felt it hot against my lower abdomen. It saturated my undershorts, then became uncomfortably cool. As my body stopped its orgasm spasm jerking, Lorraine stopped grinding and pulled away. A victorious smile crossed her face.

"Well done, Tom," she exclaimed as she watched the wetness stain appearing on the front of my slacks. She said it with sincerity rather than in an embarrassing way. "Now, why don't you go into the shower room and bag up your clothes in the laundry bag in there. I'll launder and dry your clothes while you shower. There's a robe in there you can put on after you shower."

"Lorraine, it will probably take an hour or so to launder my stuff. It won't take but a few minutes for me to shower. What will we do for the rest of the time?" 

"Oh, we'll find something to do. Just set the bag outside the door." 

I went into the shower room. Thankfully it was comfortably warm. My undershorts were now soaked, and my jeans had an obvious wet spot across the front. I stripped, set the bag outside the door, and showered. The shower room was just off the room that had most recently been furnished as a bedroom. With nothing on under the robe, I walked into the room, expecting to continue on to Lorraine's office.

I never got that far.

Lorraine was stretched out and lying on her back on the bed. She was completely naked. Her legs were slightly separated, and when she saw me, she silently extended her arms to beckon me to her. 

It had a little over half an hour since she dry-fucked me into a completely depleting orgasm, yet now she expected me to have both the drive and the capacity to ... what? Fuck her? Yet I was amazed to feel my cock coming back to life under the robe. She must have seen the bulge appearing.

"Lorraine, I think you might be overestimating me."

"No, Tom, I have complete faith in your restorative abilities."

With that encouragement, I let the robe slip to the floor so I stood naked in front of her. Though not yet fully erect, my cock was indeed coming back to life.

I walked to her bedside, then lay down along side her. She gently rolled partially on top of me and began kissing me. I returned her kisses with intensifying fervor. I ran my hands over her body, carefully avoiding her tits. She had not cum when she dry-fucked me into a trousers-soaking orgasm, so I knew it would likely not take much to bring her to orgasm. 

We lay together, kissing and fondling, for several minutes. It surprised me that it was intensely satisfying for me to simply touch and kiss her.

Then I felt an odd urge, one that in years past I had found offensive but now seemed to be compelling me. 

I rolled Lorraine onto her back. Her face told me she was expecting me to mount her and fuck her to orgasm. But my unexpected and previously rejected urge took control, and I began kissing my way down her body, slowly but deliberately, toward her pussy. 

As my mouth approached her hairy mound, she murmured, "Tom?" with some surprise, followed by a series of pleasurable sounds.

Lorraine knew from my first interviews with her that I had rejected any form of oral sex. She surmised I somehow saw it as "dirty," and her guidance was to simply do something else if I found oral sex distasteful.

So when I carefully and gently used my fingers to part her pubic hair and expose her clitoral hood, she was probably as surprised as pleased. The force compelling me to go that far then took control of my tongue. I very tenderly used the warm, wet tip to coax her clit to emerge to be exposed to me. I was able to look toward her face and saw her look of surprise change to eager submission.

Each touch of my tongue, whether a quick flick or a light drag, elicited sounds of pleasure and increasing arousal from her. My own arousal was increasing, but I could do little about it. 

Finally, she uttered a breathless and almost unintelligible, "Finger me, Tom," once, twice, then again. "Put two fingers in me!"

Obediently I slowly inserted my index and right middle fingers into her wet and demanding pussy. Instantly her cunt muscles tightened around them, but her own wetness made capture impossible. I continued to tongue-touch her clit while my fingers slid slowly in and out. 

Her arms now extended straight out from her prone body; her hands clasped desperately at the sheets on the bed. 

My face and hand were so occupied with her pussy that I barely heard her say something. I stopped and looked at her face. 

"Don't you dare stop! Fuck me harder! Faster!" she cried raggedly, her voice breaking.

Once again I buried my face on her mound, my tongue working some magic on her clit while I pushed two fingers inside her. After only a few slow strokes of my fingers, I felt her leg muscles begin to tense and shiver. I allowed my eyes to quickly glance at her face. Her eyes were tightly clenched shut, her face constricted in lustful tension. Her face was changing from a slight flush to dark red, and the redness extended down toward and onto her breasts. All the signs of an imminent orgasm.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 03



[In Chapter 1, readers learned that I had sought help from psychologist Dr. Lorraine Theriault. I was at the time a 23-year old, otherwise healthy male who could become sexually aroused but who was unable to sustain an erection when trying to penetrate a woman. Dr. Theriault, using unorthodox and professionally unapproved methods, was able to help me overcome that, but in the course of her treatment of me, she learned that I possessed an unusual and powerful gift -- the ability to help women achieve super-orgasms. 

In Chapter 2, Dr. Theriault introduced me to neurocardiologist Dr. Kimberly Geiler-Callaghan. Lorraine hoped that Kim might help her determine the extent and source of my "gift." As I subsequently learned, Kim was not only Lorraine's cardiologist; she was also Lorraine's client. Kim had been unable to orgasm after the birth of her second child. Lorraine hoped my "gift" might help Kim overcome whatever was preventing her from achieving sexual climax while at the same time reassuring me that my restored ability to sustain an erection would continue with women other than Lorraine and in locations outside her office. Lorraine and Kim, with my eager agreement, had agreed to collaborate on further studies of my "gift."

That brings us to Chapter 3.]

Although both Lorraine and Kim had my cell phone number, they preferred to leave voicemail messages on my apartment's landline telephone. Since I was still in graduate school working toward my MSEE focusing on sensor nanotechnology, they did not want to interrupt school or lab work by ringing my cellphone. 

At my latest meeting with both Lorraine and Kim in Lorraine's office, Lorraine had persuaded me to let her once again wire me up to her specially-adapted polygraph. With my graduate school and career choice in electrical engineering, it was logical that I would be curious about the technical details of her sexual polygraph. Yet Lorraine had been rather vague in discussing it. That didn't bother me, but I was curious about the extent of her electronics innovation and knowledge. 

Rather than detecting lies, the usual use for a polygraph, Lorraine's adapted version measured her client's subtle physiological sexual responses to various visual stimuli. This test allowed her to determine what sexually aroused someone and what didn't. When the device was used with women, it also allowed her to chart not only a woman's arousal but also her response during orgasm if one occurred. It was less effective in recording male orgasms in any meaningful way. 

The preliminary analysis of my most recent sexual polygraph test did not exactly alarm Lorraine, but she did notice there were indications of changes since my first test, taken before I had had sex with her and subsequently with Kim. She and Kim wanted to carefully analyze my test results and then meet with me to discuss them. Lorraine expected the analysis to take about a week.

Good to her word, exactly seven days later when I returned to my apartment, I had a voicemail message from Lorraine. 

"Tom. This is Lorraine. Please call."

I thought I heard a discernible urgency in her voice, something not really typical for her when calling to set up an appointment. I called her cell phone.

"Hi, Lorraine. I got your message to call. You didn't sound normal. Is something wrong?"

"Tom, thank you. Well, no ... not really wrong. It's just that when Kim and I were carefully comparing your first test with the most recent, there was an unexpected change in one area. At first we thought it might just be the polygraph recording was out of synch with the videos you were watching, but we compared the time codes, and they were spot on. It's certainly nothing to be alarmed about, but if you wouldn't mind, we would like to rerun the test to resolve if we have a presentation problem or an instrument problem or some other technical issue."

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't mind, I guess. About how long do you think it would take?"

"About the same as the previous ones. To ensure the results are accurate, I'll run the entire test again. As you know, there will be a series of video images. They will range from nonsexual content to highly explicit sexual scenes involving one or more people. 

If you're willing, when would be a good day and time? The only time I can't do it is tomorrow before lunch. The rest of my schedule is flexible."

"Well, then how about tomorrow afternoon at 2 p.m.?"

"Tom, thank you. I apologize for inconveniencing you, but I do want to resolve the rather unexpected indication we both observed. I'll see you tomorrow." She hung up without waiting for an answer.

That didn't exactly set my mind at ease. Then again, if it were something serious relating to my health, she or Kim would have told me.

Though she hadn't specifically instructed me not to masturbate until after the test, I knew from past experience that she preferred me to be as "charged up" as possible for it.

Lorraine looked a bit uneasy when she greeted me at her door the next day. I had expected her to take me into her office, but instead she led me directly to the examination room.  

Once in the exam room, she pointed me toward the dressing room where I would remove my clothing, affix the penile sensor cuff, then put on a hospital gown. 

After following her instructions, I returned to the exam room. She was already there with the remaining sensors and apparatus. As she was attaching the sensors, she instructed me to put on the headphones, relax, and watch the screen while listening on the headphones. I could communicate with her through the intercom's lip mic on the headphones. Once I was comfortably seated in the recliner, she returned to the control room to zero her instrument and wait for me to relax enough to begin the examination. 

The lights in the room dimmed, there was relaxing music on the headphones, and after a few minutes, the image sequence began. It lasted about an hour, and although these were people and scenes I had not seen in the earlier tests, I couldn't see much of a change in the general content. After the images stopped and the room lights came back up, I wondered what Lorraine had added to this test to help her interpret the odd results she said she and Kim both saw in the preceding one.

After letting me relax for a few minutes, Lorraine came in to remove all but the penile sensor. She seemed a bit tense, which was not reassuring to me. But I knew better than to ask just then for any comments. She was in her "professional and businesslike" mode. 

"Tom, why don't you get dressed, then join Kim and me in my office. We'll both go over the results with you." It was more a command than an invitation, and she did not wait for me to answer. 

A few minutes later, I walked into Lorraine's office. She was seated behind her desk, and Kim was seated in front, facing Lorraine. While they were not exactly solemn, neither were they bright and cheery. I wondered what was going on. I seated myself in the chair next to Kim's so we were both looking across the desk at Lorraine.

"Tom, both Kim and I have examined the results of the exam you just completed, and we agree on the interpretation of your responses. 

Just as in the two preceding tests, you have a strong preference for women older than you. You prefer them to be somewhat sexually aggressive toward you and to be vocal and animated during sex. If you are already sexually attracted to them, that attraction and your sexual responses to them are enhanced by their having 'natural' rather than shaven body hair. Their body hair seems to be an aphrodisiac, but only if there is already a strong sexual attraction.

You displayed a strong aversion to anal and oral sex between men. But unlike on the first test, on the second test and this one you showed some arousal between two men or between a man and a transexual woman engaging in frottage to orgasm."

I was unfamiliar with the term "frottage".

"It literally means 'rubbing,' Tom. In the videos it was two men or a man and a transexual woman rubbing their penises together or between their two bodies until one or both orgasm.  It is a form of non-penetrating sexual intercourse. It is more a form of mutual penile masturbation than strictly sexual intercourse."

I started to speak, but she continued.

"You may recall that in each of the three tests, there were women who appeared wearing rather conservative, one-piece swimsuits similar to what you saw Kim wearing at the university pool. In all the tests you showed marked increased sexual arousal when those images were on the screen even though the women did not disrobe or engage in any overt sexual actions."

I was puzzled by her transition from my responses to male frottage to my responses to women in relatively modest swimsuits. Her explanation caught me off guard.

"Tom, in today's exam, there were five women who were wearing a variety of one-piece swimsuits. Do you recall them?"

"Yeah, I guess there's something about a pretty woman in a swimsuit that really excites me," I said looking at Kim. If she was recalling how she had seduced me at her house while wearing her one-piece "not for public viewing" swimsuit, she didn't give any indication of it.

"And did you notice anything particularly distinctive about any of them? Did anything cause you to pay particular attention to one or more of them?"

I tried my best to recall the images. All of them were attractive. Their ages varied from probably early 20's to mid-40's. They all appeared trim and fit though not especially athletic. I suppose the best term I could use would have been "normal but attractive."

Before responding to my recollections, Lorraine paused, more I suspect from her own uncertainty than for any dramatic effect. Then she continued, "Tom, three of the 'women' were transexual women, that is, women who were biologically men but prefer sexual assignment as a woman."

Again, she paused to allow me to understand the import of her explanation.

"Although Kim and I were interested in your overall results today, Tom, we were most interested in your responses to those five persons. Specifically, we wanted to see if your conscious or subconscious physiological responses were different to the three transexual women. 

The test results showed that while you experienced increased arousal to all of them, you were slightly more aroused by the three transexual women than by the other two. 

So our question is, Tom, do you consciously remember seeing anything in their mannerisms or anatomy that might have triggered your responses?"

I thought about each one, as much as I could remember which wasn't much at all. 

"No, but are you suggesting that I may be bisexual, homosexual, or what?" I asked, my voice no doubt revealing some concern.

"You are decidedly heterosexual, Tom. But keep in mind the labels we hear and commonly use, labels like homosexual, heterosexual, bisexual, and asexual are imprecise. It is a particular culture that defines them, not strictly the mindset of the persons displaying them.  A particular culture or subculture tends to define one of them as 'normal' so that all the other behaviors become to some degree 'abnormal' in that culture. The reality is that sexual distinction is as much defined culturally as it is genetically and anatomically. Cultures intent on self-sustenance lock in on their own definitions and tend to promote them without regard for the subtle distinctions. To put it another way, they sometimes don't distinguish between one's gender and one's sexuality. 

In successfully overcoming the particular inhibition that kept you from sustaining an erection with a woman, you most likely overcame, or at least subconsciously questioned, other cultural barriers as well. Let me assure you that as difficult as it may be for you to accept, your arousal watching scenes involving frottage was more likely curiosity than any change in your sexual orientation. You are not only what you are, but to some extent you are what you have been defined to be by others.

Let me make a comparison. People are drawn to the spectacle of a building on fire. That doesn't mean they are latent arsonists, only that they have some interest. People fantasize about having sex with famous people, but that doesn't mean they are going to become stalkers or attackers." 

Lorraine could see that I was still concerned, but before I could interject, she guided the conversation in a slightly different direction.

"Tom, you and I have had very fulfilling sex together. Suppose I stood up right now and took off my clothes and you saw I had somehow acquired a penis. Do you think you would still find me sexually attractive, enough to maybe find a way to still have sex with me? Or would my mysterious acquisition of a cock completely change your sexual attraction to me?"

I thought about it for a while, even tried to visualize Lorraine with an erect cock. I had to admit that I would still want to have sex with her. It was not a difficult call to make.

"Of course I'd still want to have sex with you, but I'm not sure how. I mean, the thought of sucking a cock or anal sex really turns me off."

"I understand, Tom. The pleasure of anal sex in particular is sometimes overstated. It can painful for the recipient, especially if not done carefully. But a significant number of women do orgasm regularly from anal sex, often a result of stimulating the woman's G-spot from inside. Of course, when Kim simultaneously masturbated you and massaged your prostate, she entered you very, very slowly with a well-lubricated finger, much smaller than an erect penis or even a dildo. That was completely different from the usual anal sex people engage in. The fact is that the human anus is not constructed for sexual intercourse. It is not a vagina. Still, anal sex can be pleasurable for both women and men if it is done properly."

She waited to see if I had anything else to say. Her facial expression was one of uncertainty, conflicted, but finally she spoke.

"Tom, please wait here. I'll be right back." 

Kim said nothing while Lorraine was gone. She returned in a minute or two carrying what looked like a shoebox with a lid. She placed it on the desk in front of me and removed the lid. After folding back the inner paper, she produced a remarkably lifelike and detailed replica of a hard, fully-erect penis complete with scrotum. 

"Do you know what this is, Tom?" she asked.

"I guess it's a dildo. There was one used in a couple of the scenes you showed me."

"You're partially correct. It is a dildo, but it is significantly different from the ones in the videos. This is one designed and constructed to my own specifications. It is more of a prosthetic than a sex toy. Go ahead and touch it, Tom."

I did, and it had exactly the same skin-like feel as my cock and scrotum, not the rubberized or latex feel I had expected. Its hardness was also lifelike, unlike the rubbery, spongy flexibility I had expected. And it felt like body temperature. Even the blood vessels in it appeared real. 

"Tom, if you were blindfolded and had not seen this in the box, do you think you could have distinguished it from a genuine cock?"

"Probably not," I answered honestly.

"It has some other features that are not as obvious, things that distinguish it from a commercial dildo," she continued. "For one thing, when a woman wears a commercial strap-on dildo, the only real stimulation she receives is clitoral stimulation as a result of incidental pressure of the base pushing or rubbing against her clit. More often than not, mainly because of a poor fit, she receives little meaningful sexual stimulation using a strap-on. It is frequently more irritating rather than pleasurable for the wearer. This one is designed to try and replicate in a woman the sensations a man feels in his cock when he is aroused.

This is going to get a little technical, but I'll explain. 

At several places in this dildo are specialized generators. These are small devices which, when pressure is applied to them, generate electricity."

I interrupted, "Lorraine, I know what the piezoelectric effect is. I'm a double-E, remember?"

"Yes, of course, Tom. Anyway, the outputs from these generators are fed into a small chip that regulates the voltage and limits the current. 

The output from that chip is fed to these tiny electrical plates inside the base. Those plates and these soft pressure bumps were precisely placed so that when I wear this properly, they make exactly the right physical and electrical contact with my clit, its hood, and my vagina and the area immediately around it. 

Any externally-applied contact with the dildo's shaft and tip generates an electrical current which the chip processes, then translates into electrical pulses transmitted to my pussy and interpreted by my brain to be similar to what you feel when your penis is erect and you are aroused. Does that make sense?"

"So this thing supposedly lets you feel as a woman what a man with a penis feels when he's becoming aroused?" I asked.

"That's essentially it, Tom. Of course, being a woman and never having been a man, I can't know for sure, but I believe that's what I'm feeling. But then again, I'm a woman, so I'm feeling it as a woman, not a man. The rest of our body's senses come into play to complicate it a bit more. 

Actually, I really don't feel anything like an electric shock or a tingle or anything. What I feel is the result, the arousal created by the pressure bumps and the small electric pulses rather than the electricity itself."

I had to ask Lorraine what to me seemed the obvious question. "Well, if you're able to experience arousal and orgasm as a woman, why would you want or need to wear this device?"

"That's a very good question, Tom.  Just as there are some men who have some latent desire to experience sex as a woman, so there are some women who want to experience sex as a man. But in neither case does the man or woman want to permanently change their physiology. The psychological effects of gender-altering surgery are, in almost every subject, massive and certainly not as predictable as we would like. It would be highly desirable to have a lifelike prosthetic that would let a woman have the penis experience without permanent physiological change.

Also, there are some men who for various reasons such as accident or surgery no longer have a penis and scrotum. This is a first-generation prosthetic penis to try and restore a man's ability to experience sexual satisfaction after his own penis and scrotum have been removed or otherwise rendered unable to perform sexually. If perfected, it would not just be a cosmetic replacement. It would be a functional replacement in every respect."

Lorraine was apparently caught up in the excitement of the explanation as she continued.

"In my particular case, I became interested in this specialized dildo because ..." 

"Lorraine," Kim interrupted with a caution tone to her voice. 

Lorraine stopped abruptly, suddenly realizing she was perilously close to revealing sensitive client information.

"Thanks, Kim," she said sincerely. Then she continued. "I can tell you that in trying to help Kim achieve orgasm, I wore my device when having sex with her. Our thinking was that as a woman, I would better understand how to arouse another woman, Kim, and read her responses. While it did affect her arousal, it still didn't produce an orgasm in her. 

In fact, it probably aroused me more than it did her, because I came very soon after I started fucking her. Consequently, I fitted her with one of these devices to use with me. The obvious thinking there was that it may be the wearer rather than the recipient who derives the most pleasure from the prosthetic." 

She looked at Kim, who nodded assent to continue. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 03



"During Kim's interviews, she suggested that she had wondered what it would be like to have a penis and be able to fuck a woman. It occurred to me that if she received the proper stimulation to arousal and was then able to use her 'penis' to initiate sexual intercourse with a willing woman, in her case me, she might be able to orgasm. Just as when I was role-playing as a man wearing the device and having sex with Kim, she was aroused but could not orgasm. And her wearing the phallus while she was fucking me wasn't particularly stimulating to me over and above her inherent ability to arouse me.

In short, whatever was blocking Kim's orgasm was not overcome by this phallus. Only you were able to overcome that barrier. That emphasizes even more the significance of your 'gift'.

Right now there are only two of these in existence, this one and Kim's, and they are only functional prototypes. Each was specially designed for the intended wearer to be proportional to our bodies and to feel as natural as they can when they're worn. Each had to be unique, because our genital topography is different. The conductive plates and pressure ridges had to be in precisely the right location for maximum sexual stimulation and minimum irritation for each wearer. 

You probably noticed that neither phallus has any straps but does have a thin membrane at the base. That membrane is thin but extremely strong and attached to the wearer with a special surgical adhesive material. Obviously, the wearer has to depilate her genital area for the adhesive to properly adhere. Properly applied, the device feels as if it is part of our bodies. The adhesive is not affected by any body fluids or by the movements associated with even aggressive sex, but it does remove quickly and easily with a special tissue-safe solvent."

Perhaps in an effort to arouse me further, Lorraine explained very graphically how she had used it with Kim. My mind pictured their sex, and I felt my cock getting hard. Lorraine had learned to read my reactions very accurately, so she noticed my arousal. Or perhaps it was part of her plan.

"Tom, how would you react if I were to suggest that I wear my phallus and engage in frottage with you as if I were a man?"

Her question caught me completely off guard. But as I thought about it, I became oddly intrigued rather than repulsed by her suggestion. After all, she was still really a woman. 

"You're not talking about any penetration are you, Lorraine?" I asked out of genuine concern. "Because if you are, ..."

"No, Tom, not at all," she interrupted. "I'm talking about us either standing face to face or me lying on top of you. I would control the rubbing of our cocks together until you orgasm ... or until you tell me to stop because you simply don't want to or aren't able to continue."

The feeling that came over me was one I had experienced briefly before, then dismissed. It was more than curiosity, but less than unbridled enthusiasm.  

"What will I feel?" I asked.

"It will probably be pretty much the same as when we dry-humped a few days ago.  You won't feel any effect of the electric discharge the same as I do, because unlike real skin, the phallus' skin doesn't conduct electricity. As for what you will experience psychologically, I don't know. That's what I hope you will be able to tell me after we're done. I'm quite sure you will orgasm," she said. "And I may, too. But in my case, since your cock won't be inside me and will only be in contact with the non-conductive phallus, I don't expect to receive the full effect of your 'gift'."

The way Lorraine explained it, I was sort of interested. But I still had another question.

"Lorraine, why do you want me to try this? I mean, I'm not interested in ever having sex of any kind with a man, so..." 

"Tom, let me assure you that I'm not trying to change or even influence your sexual preferences and orientation. I'm simply asking you to try this experiment with me one time. We can stop at any time, and of course, no one else other than Kim will ever know that we have tried this. I don't need to record our encounter if you don't want to."

Perhaps recalling how Lorraine had eased into introducing me to Kim, I asked, "Lorraine, does your request have something to do with another one of your clients?"

She was clearly uneasy in answering, but finally she said, "Yes, but I really can't say any more about her. Suffice it to say she is completely unaware, and never will become aware without your permission, of what I am proposing to try with you."

I saw Kim wince. Lorraine may not have seen it and may not have realized it, but she had apparently revealed that her client driving the prosthetic penis was a woman, not exactly a complete surprise. If the client had been a man, they would simply have made a prototype to use with him.

"When would you want to do this?"

"How about right now," she answered. She looked deeply into my eyes, then without waiting for me to respond, picked up the box with her device, took me by the arm, and led me into the room furnished as a bedroom. Kim walked alongside.

As we walked, she asked if I would prefer she not record our session and that Kim not watch on the video. I told her to go ahead and record it. And as before, I found myself more excited than put off by the thought of Kim watching Lorraine and I engage in ... whatever it was we were about to do. Lorraine appeared surprisingly excited as well.

We approached the room. Kim deviated and went through another door into the audio/video control room while Lorraine opened the door to the stage-set bedroom. Once we had entered the room, Lorraine said, "Tom, why don't you go ahead and undress. Then lie down on the bed and wait for me. You don't need to hurry. The adhesive takes a few minutes to properly cure."

She walked toward another door, removing her lab coat in a rather seductive manner as she did. I saw for the first time that beneath it she was wearing a dress. Having simply dropped the lab coat to the floor, she was unzipping the dress as she left the room. My cock hardened at the sight and sound of her suggestive disrobing.

In spite of her admonition that I need not hurry, I quickly removed my clothing and lay back on the bed. My erect cock bobbed up occasionally from its laying on my abdomen. Even with my affinity for Lorraine's hairy pussy, I couldn't help wondering what it would be like shaven. I had to also admit a strange and somewhat alarming excitement about having cock-to-cock sex with Lorraine. I made a mental note to tell her that.

The room lights dimmed a bit and some soothing music playing very softly, almost imperceptibly, in the background added to the sensual effect. I stared at the door, eagerly awaiting Lorraine's return.  

After about 20 more minutes, the lights dimmed a bit more, then the door opened. Lorraine stood there, fully naked, legs spread slightly, hands on her hips in what could only be described as a sexually provocative pose. Most noticeably, she was wearing the phallus she had designed. It was perfectly proportioned and fitted for her body, so it looked natural, as if it were really part of her, and that effect was accentuated by the dimmed lighting.  When she walked, slowly, toward me, it moved up and down and from side to side just as my own erection does when I walk. Had I not known it was Lorraine, I would have suspected it was a man and not a woman. I was surprised at how arousing my anticipation of this experience with her had become.

As she approached me, I could see her face clearer in the dim light. The look in her eyes told me she was already aroused. But there was more, something else. She seemed to be exuding an even stronger aura of power and control than ever before. Actually, I felt it rather than saw it.

She grasped the phallus with her right hand and began slowly stroking it. Taking my cue from her, I took my own cock in my hand and began stroking, all the while looking straight into her eyes, wondering what sensations she was feeling. 

Her facial expressions and sounds left little doubt that the phallus was fulfilling its purpose, much to her satisfaction. 

Separated by only a few feet, we continued to masturbate ourselves, but clearly both of us were wanting intimate physical contact with each other. She moved to the bedside, still stroking her "electronic penis." Then she straddled my thighs so that her "cock" and mine were aligned only an inch or two apart. With her left hand, she took my right wrist and pulled it away from my erection, now red, quite warm, and very hard. She ran the tip of her "cock" up and down the underside of my erection once, then again. Finally she edged forward so that the underside of the shaft of her "cock" aligned with mine in the same way, shaft to shaft, tip to tip. Then she took both our cocks in her right hand and slowly stroked them simultaneously. 

The sensation that washed over me was difficult to describe. Certainly, it was one I had never felt before. At another time and place and with another person, I might have felt revulsion at having my own cock in intimate contact with another one. However now, the resulting feeling was highly arousing.

Lorraine read my facial expression perfectly and was clearly pleased at being in control. Then she released her hand while at the same time lowering her body on top of mine. Our cocks were sandwiched between us, and she began to rub hers against mine. I felt her nipples hard against my chest, and her face was only inches from mine. I felt her body's muscular tightness in its sexual insinuation with mine. 

She brought her mouth down against mine and plunged her tongue deeply into my mouth. The more she kissed me, which I returned with equal fervor, the more she rubbed her "cock" against me.  Her lustful sounds and sharp movements revealed her rapidly intensifying desire. I didn't know how much longer she would keep this up, but I felt the first stages of my own irreversible orgasm welling up inside me. As if she knew or could feel it, too, she began to thrust her pelvis as if her "cock" was inside me and she was fucking me. Her nipples slid up and down on my chest. I felt her fingernails digging into my shoulders as her thrusts grew more violent. 

Now both of us began crying out as our orgasms arrived nearly simultaneously. I felt my hot cum shoot out between us, melding our torsos together like hot sticky glue. I heaved my hips upward as if I were fucking her. In the instant my jism flowed between us, Lorraine's body stiffened, then began shaking violently. Her cries were cries of orgasm, not pain, and they continued for several seconds, perhaps even a full minute. Finally, her body collapsed on top of mine, her breathing ragged and uneven, my hot cum cementing us together. I felt her "cock" between us even as mine softened. Occasionally, she twitched when her body or mine moved enough to cause her "cock" to send a stimulating impulse to her still-sensitive clit.

She lay on top of me for several minutes waiting for her clit to desensitize and her breathing to return to normal. My erection had subsided, but of course hers remained hard. At some point she slowly rolled off to one side, our faces only inches apart. I rolled to her and kissed her, gently. She returned my kiss and smiled. As had happened so often before after experiencing such an intense orgasm with me, she tried to speak but no sounds came out. 

I expected her to get up and leave as she had done so often before, but instead, she simply closed her eyes and quickly drifted into a deep sleep. 

The door from the control room opened, and Kim came in. She was somewhat flushed and her speech was a bit uneven and dry-sounding. I wondered if she, too, had become aroused watching Lorraine and me. Had Kim been wishing she could join us?

"Tom," she whispered rather hoarsely as she struggled for composure, "I didn't expect Lorraine to fall asleep. I doubt she expected to, either. I need to remove her phallus. Why don't you shower, dress, and then meet us in her office in about 45 minutes."

I arose, picked up my clothes, walked unashamedly naked past Kim into the dressing room, then showered. It was a leisurely shower, and my mind replayed what had just happened with Lorraine. Then my mind went a little wild as I began thinking about Kim removing Lorraine's phallus. Would Kim's ministrations stimulate Lorraine's desire again? What effect would it have on Kim? Would Kim want to wear her own phallus and have sex with me just as Lorraine had? Cumulatively, the effect of those thoughts along with the warm water rushing over me caused my own erection to revive. Even with passage of time and some cooler water rinses, it didn't subside as much as I might have wished.

After showering and dressing, I assumed Kim had awakened Lorraine so the three of us could meet in Lorraine's office. I walked into Lorraine's office just a bit gingerly since my trousers barely concealed my erection. But only Kim was there, behind Lorraine's desk.

Kim smiled at me. Her eyes drifted to my bulge, then back up to meet mine. "Tom, Lorraine is deeply asleep and relaxed. Obviously, your 'gift' somehow found its way into her neural system even though you were not penetrating her or even touching her clit. We didn't expect that. Once she awakens and can think and talk clearly, I'll get a better idea of what she experienced. Watching her reactions on the video system, it looked to me as if she reacted exactly the same as when you penetrated her. In fact, her reaction today while she was wearing the phallus may even have been more intense. But tell me, Tom, what did you feel? How did it feel to be having cock-to-cock sex?"

Kim's last two questions seemed to have more of an air of lustful curiosity rather than professional detachment to it.

"I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you, Kim, but I hardly even noticed her 'cock', even when Lorraine was stroking hers and mine at the same time. It just felt like she was giving me a hand job. Frankly, it was much, much more erotic watching Lorraine walk toward me with her 'cock' exposed. It really looked like part of her body, and the sight was a real turn-on. She seemed even more aroused because of it, too. 

But the thing is, I think you could have put anything on her and it wouldn't have made any difference once we started having sex. It was Lorraine's own sexuality and not the phallus that aroused me and caused me to cum. The phallus may have added a dimension of sexual mystery, and that certainly added to my excitement and the intensity of my orgasm, but if I hadn't already been sexually attracted to Lorraine, the phallus wouldn't have made much difference. It was her sexuality, the entire package including the phallus, that does it for me. If you had put it on a woman whom I wasn't sexually attracted to, that wouldn't have increased my attraction to her. I might even have been turned off by it.  Does that make sense?"

"Absolutely, and I'm not disappointed at all. As I'm sure Lorraine has told you, good sex starts and ends in our brain. And your brain knew you were having sex with Lorraine. The phallus may have added a dimension of excitement to your experience with an already desirable sex partner, but it apparently wouldn't have created that desire had it not already been there. Of course, I'll need to talk with Lorraine when she awakens to see if she felt anything additional."

"Yeah, I guess I'd have to say that seeing her walking toward me with it on had more of an effect on me than actually touching it or having it between us when we had sex. Like you said, Kim, its feel may have done more for Lorraine than me. When she was walking toward me, the way she looked at me and moved, I felt like she radiated a power I'd never experienced before. I mean, I knew it was Lorraine, but she was incredibly sexy as with a cock. It was more how she as a woman with a cock looked than the feel of the cock itself. I don't know how to explain it."

"That's an important observation, Tom. I'll talk with her about it," Kim added thoughtfully. "There was something else I noticed today, though. When I went in to help Lorraine remove the phallus -- actually, she was already sleeping soundly, so I removed it myself -- I noticed that it was unusually warm. It was as if the device had overheated. That, of course, is highly unlikely because it has no internal battery that could provide excessive current should there be an internal short-circuit. And the piezoelectric generators are, by design, limited to a current that could supposedly could not possibly generate the heat. I'm going to suggest to Lorraine that we ask the phallus' designer and builder to try and determine why it overheated."

Being an electrical engineer, or at least a graduate student in double-E, I fully understood her reasoning. And I was impressed that she as a medical doctor had remarkably technical understanding of the device's electronics. 

"Kim, let me ask you something now. Lorraine said she had one of those made for you to see if it might help you orgasm. I'm really curious how it felt to you when you were, what, fucking her or what?"

Kim's answer was obviously evasive.

"Tom, I'd like to check on Lorraine again, so if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to hold off answering that. If there isn't anything else we really need to discuss today..." I took that as my cue to leave.

As Kim and I were walking toward the office door, she concluded, "I'm sure Lorraine will call you in the next day or two to discuss the results of today's experiment. I can see ..." she said looking at the bulge in my trousers with a rather suggestive smile, "... that you've recovered nicely already. And I should be able to answer your question more thoroughly when we meet again." 

This day's sexual experience with Lorraine had been different, and I thought it through several times on my drive home from her office.

Normally after having sex with Lorraine, I sleep very soundly that night. However this night was a bit different. I slept well enough, but I had an odd dream, a very wet one. Like many dreams, it was fragmented rather than perfectly coherent. 

In my dream I was with Kim, not Lorraine, at some undefined location. We were both in our swimsuits, I in my rather skimpy competition trunks and she in her "not for public" suit she had worn at her home. But in my dream, Kim had a bulge in her crotch, and the unmistakable outline of an erect cock was visible through her already revealing one-piece suit. 

Kim walked toward me in a dreamy, steamy, swirly haze, walking much as Lorraine had walked back into the room earlier in the day. Though Kim is several inches shorter than I, she attacked me and forced me to the ground. I wasn't resisting, because intuitively I knew her interest was sexual and not violent. She began kissing me, first on the mouth, then working her way down toward my cock. Just as at her house, my erection erupted from the top of my trunks, and I assumed Kim was going to go after it. Instead, in my dream she inched her way down to it, then suddenly dragged her torso upward over it until she was lying face to face on top of me. 

I could feel her "cock" through her swimsuit, pressing and rubbing over mine. When I tried to use my hands to pull her suit off, I suddenly and mysteriously became weak and powerless to resist her hands pinning my arms at my sides. The look on her face told me she recognized the power she had over me, and she rubbed and thrust her "cock" against mine. I couldn't see it, but I could definitely feel it. Her thrusts were strong and powerful, almost violent, her face contorted with lust. I could feel my orgasm welling up. 

And then I awoke. My undershorts and sheet were soaked with my own jism. 

Though the dream had been pleasant, albeit messy, it raised concerns I needed to discuss with Lorraine at our next meeting.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 03



I returned to my apartment from class the next day to find a voicemail message from Lorraine: "Tom, it's Lorraine. Please call me today if it's convenient." 

She sounded relaxed, even casual, with no alarm in her message. It was about 3 p.m. when I returned her call.

"Tom, thank you for calling back today. I hadn't expected our session yesterday afternoon to end exactly the way it did. Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"But you're okay?" I asked.

"Oh, believe me, I'm just fine. But I would like to meet with you and Kim, tomorrow afternoon if possible, to discuss yesterday's meeting. There are definitely some things we need to discuss with you."

"I could be at your office about 4 p.m. if that would be soon enough?"

"That would be fine. Kim had suggested later afternoon would work best for her, too. And Tom, I really want to thank you for yesterday afternoon, both for being willing to participate in the experiment and for talking with Kim afterward. We'll see you tomorrow."

Lorraine greeted me very warmly at her office door the next day. She seemed relaxed and refreshed as she led me to her inner office. Kim was already there and was equally warm.

"Tom, Kim told me what you said to her after yesterday's meeting. I really appreciate your insight. I would not have been able to objectively recognize and evaluate my responses you experienced. It's hard for me to know if what you saw and felt as I was walking toward you was caused by the additional relatively minor electrical stimulation of the phallus or by my own psychological response to it. When Kim and I reviewed earlier videos of me without the phallus in place and compared them with the video from yesterday, we confirmed what you saw. 

First, let's discuss the results of yesterday's retest. Probably most important for you, your actions during the retest, afterward with me, and your observations to Kim ought to reassure you that your sexual preference is for women. As I noted after your first test several months ago, like most men you are aroused by sexual contact between women. Your arousal is very pronounced when you see two women engaging in sexual contact, provided it is the kind of contact you would like to engage in yourself with a woman. If the sexual contact between women was offensive to you, your arousal diminished quickly. 

You have a healthy sexual curiosity when you see sexual contact outside what you've defined your norms to be. You seem to view each circumstance differently and make a judgement, if you are going to make one, based on your own standards. Both Kim and I were a bit surprised, pleasantly, that you did not react more negatively when you saw transexual women engaging in frottage. And when you agreed to allow me wear the phallus and engage in frot with you, that affirmed it. Clearly, you know I am a woman, and that unquestionably heavily influenced your decision to proceed with the experiment. Still, your responses were based on the person you were with, not the nature and quality of a particular appliance or appendage."

She paused to see if I had any comment or questions. Of course, I did.

"Lorraine, when you were wearing your 'cock' and we were having sex yesterday, what did you feel that was different? Before, you said you weren't sure if you would feel anything different. You weren't even sure if you would cum. But obviously, at least according to Kim, you did."

"Yes, Tom, it was different -- or at least some of it was unexpected. When I walked out of the room yesterday before the test, I behaved as a woman. I did a little strip-tease to tantalize you, but also to stimulate myself. Nothing explicit, just mildly suggestive. I can become aroused watching either a man or woman seductively removing clothing in anticipation of sex. The act of disrobing, particularly if it is skillfully done, can be highly erotic.

But when I walked back into the room wearing my 'cock' and saw your reaction, something in me was changed slightly. I felt the way I can only imagine a man might have felt if it had been a woman lying naked on the bed and obviously aroused. If there had been any uncertainty in my mind before re-entering the room, it disappeared when I saw you. Every cell in my body seemed to become intently focused on both getting and giving sexual pleasure. And once I had my and your cocks in my hand and began stroking them together, that focus intensified even more.

You're right, of course. Before we began, I wasn't sure if I would orgasm or not. But the instant we touched, that doubt went away. I don't know exactly why, but it did. I hadn't expected your 'gift' to influence my orgasm, because I assumed it could only work if you were touching my clit or some other sexually sensitive area. Not only was I wrong on that assumption, but it almost seems in retrospect that yesterday's orgasm was stronger and lasted longer than if you had been fucking me. 

That may be related in some way to Kim's observation that when she removed the phallus from me, it seemed noticeably warmer than would have been expected from just the friction of our bodies and our body temperature. Her impression was that there had been some sort of internal electrical malfunction. I've already returned the unit to be analyzed."

Lorraine stopped talking and looked at me with a look of puzzlement. 

"Tom, is something wrong? You seem to be a little uneasy."

I looked at Kim, trying to decide whether now was the best time to discuss my dream. I decided it was, and for the next few minutes, I recounted as much detail about it as I could recall. Neither of them spoke one word while I was talking. When I finished, both Lorraine and Kim were oddly quiet, both looking as if they had entered the Twilight Zone. Finally, Lorraine first looked at Kim who nodded an unspoken assent, then Lorraine broke the silence.

"Tom, as you know, Kim has been my client since before you met her. After you gave me permission to identify you to her, she saw you several times at the university pool. During one of my sessions with her after seeing you at the pool, she revealed a dream that was almost identical in every respect to the one you just described to us. In it, she was the sexual aggressor toward you, she had a penis, she was wearing a one-piece swimsuit, and in her dream she was able to orgasm as she had been unable to do for years. Of course, you ejaculated in your dream whereas she did not orgasm in hers. 

When Kim recounted her dream to me, she and I discussed under what circumstances and how she and you might achieve mutual sexual fulfillment. Our meeting at Kim's house, the meeting I needed to leave unexpectedly, was intended to facilitate that. Neither Kim nor I had expected that you and she would actually have sex during that meeting, however. But when I was called away to the hospital, Kim's own obviously strong sexual instincts took control. 

Of course, she was not wearing the phallus, and her pubic hair had regrown from when it was removed so she could wear the phallus. But the combination of her own natural attributes both concealed and revealed by her very sexy one-piece swimsuit and her sexually suggestive aggression towards you resulted in a far better outcome than either she or I had expected for the meeting."

"So several weeks ago Kim had the same dream I did? Is that what you're telling me?" 

"Exactly, Tom," Kim answered before Lorraine could. "Though different in time, your dream and mine were remarkably similar down to almost the last detail."

"Maybe I shouldn't ask," I said tentatively, "But what's with you having a cock?"

Lorraine jumped in. "Tom, have you ever heard, 'When you hear hoofbeats behind you, expect horses, not zebras?'"

"Yes, I have. What's that got to do with..."

"In Kim's case, Tom, it simply means that her mind is suggesting to her that her sexual experience might be more or at least differently fulfilling if she, as a woman, had a penis. Just as you affirmed that a woman to whom you are already sexually attracted may become even more attractive if she is unshaven, so Kim wondered, and wanted to affirm or refute, that her sex as a woman but with a heterosexual man might be more exciting if she had a penis. She has no desire to be a man, to undergo a gender change with all that entails. Rather, she would simply like to experience what it feels like. Maybe more than once but without any permanence.

Of course, in the interim she experienced a real orgasm with you, yet she still has this curiosity about what it would feel like to have a penis and have sex with a heterosexual man."

"Like you did with me?" I asked Lorraine.

"Well, in your case it was to see how you would react to a partner with a penis, even if it was only a phallus," Lorraine responded. 

I thought I detected a hint of defensiveness in her voice, so I pursued that.

"But you can't deny you enjoyed it, can you?" I asked her.

"Well, no, but..." 

For the first time in all our meetings, a visible uncertainty had crept into Lorraine's voice. As I spoke and Lorraine responded, I looked at Kim. Oddly enough, she seemed to be enjoying my challenging Lorraine. In fact, I thought I saw a moment of that "I want you" look Kim had given me at her pool days earlier. 

Before Lorraine could continue, I turned to Kim and asked, "Kim, when you were watching Lorraine and I having sex the other day when she was wearing the phallus, did it turn you on?"

I had expected her to become rather defensive, but she looked first at Lorraine then back at me, then directly into my eyes, and said, "I was wishing it was me instead of Lorraine fucking you. And after seeing and hearing Lorraine's orgasm with you, I want it even more."

Lorraine was clearly startled by Kim's uncharacteristic bluntness. "Kim, I'm not sure..." She started to interject, but Kim cut her off.

"I am, Lorraine. And I think Tom is, too. Aren't you, Tom." It was an assertion, not really a question. 

Kim's normally soft-spoken nature had become edgy, and it had an immediate arousing effect on me. I couldn't precisely articulate it, but somehow I sensed inside me that my sexual attraction for Kim and for having sex with her while she was wearing the phallus was different in some way from the feeling I'd had just before fucking Lorraine wearing hers. 

Still, it surprised both Lorraine and me that the normally slightly reserved Kim would so clearly and explicitly express a desire to be watched while fucking me. She must have seen Lorraine's and my expressions.

"What?" she asked. "Are you concerned now that I'm over the orgasm hump, that maybe you've created some sexual monster? Tom, I suspect you'd say you're turned on a little bit by being watched. And I know Lorraine is. Look, I don't want my pictures spread all over the internet, and I know that isn't going to happen. I'd rather be here with someone I trust than be spotted going into some dive motel by some sleazy private investigator."

Kim was now looking me straight in the eye as she continued.

"Lorraine knows I have other sexual fantasies, Tom. She and I haven't discussed your possibly being involved in fulfilling them, because neither she nor I want to in any way reverse the progress you've made. If you'd like, you and I can discuss my fantasies, and yours if you want, privately or with Lorraine, and then we can decide together if we want to try them."

Kim went silent, and it was a few seconds before Lorraine spoke up.

"Well, I'd suggest that we all should sleep on Kim's revelation rather than doing anything right now. And it's important to find out why the phallus I was wearing seemed to overheat before anyone uses one again. At least one of our objectives is still to analyze Tom's 'gift' and to determine its origin and long-term effects."

After some discussion about Lorraine's suggestion, we all finally agreed. That was a logical point for our meeting on this day to end, so I left to return home and study. 

Even during my drive home, my mind created an image of Kim wearing her phallus and walking toward me as Lorraine had. Those thoughts had the expected effect, and unfortunately, they limited my ability to focus on my studies.

The next day I decided to skip one of my classes and catch up on the studying. Just as my attention was finally fully on my engineering project, my apartment telephone rang. 

"Tom, I'm surprised you're home." It was Lorraine. "The lab called me with some preliminary information on the analysis of my phallus. They expect to have full results to me by Thursday evening. Would it be possible for you to meet with Kim and me at my place sometime Friday to discuss them?"

"Yeah, I guess. It would have to be after 4 p.m., though. I've got a meeting with my thesis committee at 2 p.m., and it is likely to go for at least an hour and maybe longer."

"How about if we set it for 7 p.m., then? Or did you have plans for Friday night?"

"No, 7 would be fine. I'll be there. Do I need to do anything special?" The question was my subtle (or maybe not so much) way of asking if I needed to avoid jacking off until then.

"No, we'll just be discussing whatever the lab's results were," Lorraine answered knowingly. "We'll see you Friday night, then." With that, she hung up.

The next day I returned from classes to find yet another voicemail from Lorraine.

"Tom, the lab called today with another update on the phallus test results. Now the lab's owner and principal scientist wants to meet personally with Kim and me to discuss the results. Obviously she doesn't know about your involvement in this matter, so it is a bit of a problem if you're there Friday evening. My concern is that she may begin to get into an area of questions that would breach my promise of confidentiality to you if I answer. Please give me a call so we can discuss this."

I called Lorraine's cell phone. She picked up on the first ring.

"Tom, hi. Thanks for calling back. Did you understand my voicemail message okay?"

"Sure. How much about me and my involvement with you will be revealed to her? I guess what I'm really asking is, how much do you trust her to not betray your or my confidence?"

"Reasonable questions, Tom. She anticipated that Kim or I might have some questions. At that point, without going into any detail I explained there was a third person involved. Knowing only that, but not knowing anything about you or your 'gift', she has given me full permission to provide whatever information you or Kim might need to feel more comfortable.

First, her name is Jamie. Her company is JKL Laboratories, Inc. In addition to her office manager, she employs an electronics technician, a materials specialist, and a machinist. None of them will know your identity, and they will only be given the information they need to do their jobs. Only Jamie will know who you are and the nature of your association with Kim and me. 

Probably the most important thing for you to know is that JKL is highly specialized. It designs and manufactures highly advanced prosthetic devices. JKL is under contract to do R&D for the Defense Department to try and restore sensory and mobility functionality to US personnel who have been injured in service to the country. 

This mission is very close to Jamie's heart. Her father lost a hand in Viet Nam and was discharged from the Army. She grew up watching her father struggle with a marginally adequate prosthetic hand. When she went to college, she took two baccalaureate degrees, one in electrical engineering and one in mechanical engineering. Both her masters and doctorate degrees focused on the integration of prosthetic devices with the human neural, muscular, and skeletal systems. 

Independent of her research for DoD, Jamie has patented several prosthetic technologies, then licensed the patents to manufacturers. The profits are used to fund further research.

If you agree to allow her to work with us, I think you will be fascinated with her. As you might have guessed, she worked with me to design and build my sexual polygraph. The remote ECG sensors were her design as well, and as I'm sure you now have deduced, she built the prototype phalluses for Kim and me. That shouldn't really come as a surprise to you, because she understands that prematurely disrupted or removed sexual function can be as disabling as the loss of a limb for some people. 

So, Tom, what other questions do you have?"

I had listened intently to Lorraine's recitation about Jamie. 

"Lorraine, if you and Kim feel that Jamie's interest may be of value in helping people with either medical or psychological issues and if you trust her discretion, then I don't have any problem with your telling her the details of my case insofar as they will help other people. I mean, I've given it a lot of thought since I first came to your office, and I'm not ashamed that I had a problem you helped. I'm also not ashamed that I have been having sex with you and Kim."

There was a long pause. Since I had called her cell phone, I was afraid the connection might have been broken. 

"Lorraine -- are you still there?"

"I'm still here, Tom. I'm just stunned and, frankly, gratified that you're willing to do that. That will make it simpler, but there are still some issues I have to deal with before I can involve you further in the meeting. Once those issues have been resolved, if they can be, and after I've explained them to you, you will understand."

Clearly one of the issues she alluded to was the risk of revealing to outsiders that she and I, a psychologist and her client, had been having sex. The fact that her treatment was completely successful would be irrelevant to many people. Likewise, she would be concerned that Kim's professional reputation and marriage could both be jeopardized if it came out that Kim and I had sex. The more people who knew, the greater the likelihood of exposure.

"Again, Tom, thank you for being so open and willing to continue to participate. I'll call you back tomorrow afternoon to let you know the resolution."

With that, she disconnected.

Now, it doesn't take an Einstein to figure out what may have also concerned Lorraine was the lab's failure analysis on the phallus may have shown nothing definitive to explain the overheating Kim had felt when she removed it from Lorraine. I deduced Lorraine was concerned that Jamie would want to know the circumstances leading up to the overheating. My releasing Lorraine from our agreement of confidentiality had resolved part of that, but obviously Lorraine would need to tell her about my 'gift' and how it may have generated some electricity that could have influenced or damaged the phallus' delicate electronics. Yes, she clearly had some issues to deal with.

The next day's message from Lorraine was terse: "Tom, please call me on my cell phone."

I returned her call immediately. Our conversation was brief and to the point. Without going into any detail, she said she had resolved nearly all the issues attendant to taking Jamie into our confidence. She asked me to reaffirm I had no objections to revealing any relevant details of my case to Jamie. That included letting Jamie, but no one else, view any of the videos Lorraine had made that included me. Lorraine concluded by saying everything would be clearly and completely explained to me at the Friday meeting. Lorraine, Kim, Jamie, and I would be the only ones there. Without any hesitation, I agreed. After all, Lorraine and Kim had far more to lose than I did if our sessions became known.

Of course, I was immediately curious about Jamie. Considering what Lorraine had told me about her, if she hadn't been some child prodigy that graduated from college at 16 or something like that, she had to be at least 30, probably older. Obviously she was committed and intelligent, having two engineering degrees and then post-graduate degrees in disciplines suggesting extensive education or experience in the biological and health sciences. I wasn't exactly intimidated, but certainly was fascinated. Given my personal issue and the nature of my contact with both Lorraine and Kim, I did briefly consider what such a brainiac might look like as a woman. There was little reason to spend much time speculating on that, though. It seemed likely my contact with her would be limited to one meeting at Lorraine's the following Friday. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 03



Friday was rather warm, not quite summer, but almost. Lorraine greeted me at the door as she usually did, then led me to her office. As we walked in, Kim was talking to a woman whom I assumed was Jamie. They stopped talking to each other. Kim nodded and smiled a greeting to me. 

"Jamie, this is Tom Connors. Tom, this is Dr. Jamie Devlin."

"Doctor Devlin, how do you do?" I said as she extended her hand. She had a firm grip, though her hands were soft and warm.

"Please, call me Jamie. May I call you Tom?" she asked politely with a pleasant smile. Her voice was sure, but not domineering or particularly authoritative. She was wearing attractive slacks and a sleeveless blouse. My first impression was "nice figure." With the two-inch heels on her shoes, she appeared to be about five foot seven inches tall.  

While no one would call her ugly, her face was fairly plain. Maybe it was because her skin was very fair and she wore little or no makeup. Or maybe it was because she had a shapely figure, I assumed she would be rather vain about taking more care to have her facial beauty match it. 

We all took our seats and spent the next few minutes with get-acquainted talk. Of course, Kim and Lorraine already knew Jamie, so the talk focused on letting Jamie and me get comfortable with each other. She spoke well, articulately. Like both Lorraine and Kim, she was easy to talk with.

Finally Lorraine guided us to the purpose of the meeting.

"Jamie, now that you've had a chance to examine the phallus in detail in your lab and have watched the video of Tom and I together, what can you tell us about the overheating?"

Jamie spoke easily, confidently, and professionally without descending into unnecessary techno-jargon. She usually looked directly at Kim or me as she explained.

"When Lorraine sent the device to me, she explained what had happened before the overheating. The first thing I did was put it through the same performance and quality assurance regimen used before I sent it to her. I figured if there was a gross component malfunction or failure, it would show up there. Of course, I had detailed step-by-step pre-shipment test results for comparison. Significantly, the readings during my failure analysis were nearly identical to the quality assurance testing readings. The differences in readings were miniscule and attributable to the normal aging through use of the components. 

Since that didn't explain the overheating, I subjected the penis to destructive testing."

When she said that, I flinched at associating the words "destructive testing" with "penis." Jamie had been looking at me when she spoke, and she had obviously seen me blink. She smiled discretely but knowingly at my momentary discomfort while she continued.

"I examined each of the piezo generators, their associated wiring and circuits, and the integrated circuit chip that changes the generators' outputs into the electrical impulses Lorraine's body interpreted as triggers for sexual arousal. I also checked the gold-plated output contacts that touch her body to see if there was any chemical reaction between them and her bodily fluids. Again, everything checked out well within their required limits. 

In other words, folks, the phallus didn't fail. That was not a particularly surprising outcome, but we needed to conclusively eliminate component malfunction or failure. I even removed the chip's outer encapsulation and microscopically examined the actual circuitry inside to see if it had failed internally. It hadn't. 

So that leads me to the conclusion that the phallus' overheating was caused by an abnormal and unexpected external force. That, of course, may be the apparent electric force you mysteriously generate during sexual arousal and orgasm. Tom. Since the phallus is nonconductive except for the tiny gold contacts touching Lorraine's genitalia, I have to conclude that the electricity from Tom's body was either inductively coupled to the phallus or it was conducted from Tom to Lorraine while your other body parts were touching during sex, thence into the phallus from Lorraine through its gold contacts. 

Frankly, the inductive coupling theory is more likely than direct conduction. It seems to me that as you are becoming aroused, Tom, your body begins to store an electric charge. Then, either just before you cum or while you are cumming, something in your brain triggers the electric discharge that ultimately causes your partner's brain to release the chemicals causing not just a normal orgasm but a super-orgasm. Of course, if some part of you like your cock or finger or tongue is in immediate contact with some sexually sensitive area of your partner's body, your electric discharge could be conductive as well. That would be consistent with your history as Lorraine related it to me." 

Jamie gave an "I don't know" shrug as she stopped talking.

"Kim? Tom? Do either of you have any questions for Jamie?" 

The engineer side of me began to show. "I do," I responded. "Jamie, you said each phallus was distinctive, designed specifically for each individual, in this case one for Lorraine and the other for Kim. What distinguishes Lorraine's from Kim's? Is it possible that whatever caused Lorraine's to overheat might not affect Kim's at all?"

Jamie literally beamed at being asked an "engineering" question, clearly her strong suit. 

"The components used," she began, "are identical in every respect. What's different, though, is the physical and electrical points that come into contact with the wearer's pubic area. 

While every woman's pubic mound has some similarities, barring physical deformity or surgical alteration or scarring, every woman is nevertheless unique. Consequently, our shapes, our areas of sensitivity, and the degree of sensitivity are all slightly different. And, of course, every woman has a slightly different body and pelvic structure. Each phallus has to be designed to take the individual wearer's factors into account. 

With both Lorraine and Kim, I first made a very detailed mold of their pubic areas. Once I had each mold, I scanned it into a computer with a 3-D scanning program to enable me to define and precisely locate areas of importance. 

Then I met with them and carefully and precisely applied stimuli at over 50 points in their pubic areas and measured their sexual arousal responses. That told me where they should be most and least responsive to physical and electrical stimulation. 

I applied the sensitivity data points to the 3-D computer scan, and that told me exactly where to place the physical pressure bumps and the electrical stimulation plates during construction of each phallus. 

The next step was to make sure the phallus was the right length, girth, balance, and mass for each wearer. Remember, the objective was to have a phallus that would feel natural to the wearer.  And Tom, you might be interested to know that thanks to Lorraine's detailed measurements of your erect penis along with your other physical measurements, you were one of the two 'models' I chose for selecting the proper proportions for the size of each phallus. The data from you and the other 'model' were evaluated to come up with a viable design.

Finally, I built a prototype. The first was for Lorraine. It took four separate trials to arrive at a prototype for her which met all the design criteria and was also comfortable to wear. Comfort is very subjective, so it took some tweaking to accommodate her. Because of my experience designing and building prosthetics, that was expected and very reasonable. Because Lorraine was able to orgasm, she was able to anecdotally describe which adjustments improved or degraded her orgasms' intensities and durations.

I went through the same process making Kim's phallus, but of course, she was unable to orgasm, so that dimension of feedback was unavailable to me. 

The drawback to both prototypes, though, is that they are always erect. Once the overall design concept is proven, I am going to work on making the phallus flaccid when no arousal stimuli are present, then becoming erect as the wearer becomes aroused. Developments in nanotechnology will definitely have some application here.

Does that answer your questions, Tom?"

I briefly wondered who the second "penis model" was, but that didn't seem too important. While I was visualizing the mold-forming interaction between Lorraine and Jamie, Lorraine didn't wait for me to ask anything further.

"So, Jamie, what is the next step? Any ideas?" she asked.

"Oh, we're definitely ahead of where you started several months ago with Tom. I think you were on the right track trying to find the source of his power to cause super orgasms. 

Of course, you hooked him up to your sexual polygraph, and he promptly smoked it," Jamie said while grinning and giving me a rather unscientific but, frankly, ego-boosting two thumbs-up signal. "And the sensors you wore during your EKG while you rode cowgirl on Tom really weren't designed to measure and record the kind of electrical impulses he was generating. So what I'd suggest we do is wire him up again using properly selected sensors feeding into a computer that will record everything. Then we sexually stimulate him until he cums." 

Jamie looked at me again and smiled slightly. There was something suggestive in the smile that told me she might enjoy that at least as much as I would. Or maybe it was her use of "we" when she said, "Then we sexually stimulate him until he cums."

Kim joined in, explaining to Jamie the technique of prostate massage she had used in combination with her manual hand job to recreate a super-orgasm in me.

Their discussion was causing me to get a hard-on just thinking about it. I thought I saw Jamie taking a quick glance at the bulge in my jeans, but I could have been mistaken.

"So, Tom, would you be up for that?" Jamie asked. We all chuckled easily at the double entendre. 

Before I could respond, though, Jamie continued. "We shouldn't assume that test will be conclusive, though. At best it will confirm or dispel that an unusual electrical force is present in and maybe on Tom's body during sex, and that something discharges it when you orgasm, Tom. But that alone isn't likely to tell us how you are generating and presumably storing the charge in the first place. 

To get closer to that, we would have to probably do a CT scan while you are becoming aroused and experiencing an orgasm."

"I assume that your sensors would generate waveforms for analysis?" I asked?

"Yes. The computer will translate the sensor readings into waveforms so I can get some idea of the properties of your electrical impulses," Jamie responded.

"It sounds like we might be able do the first test here," I said. "But wouldn't the CT scan have to be done at a hospital or radiology clinic?"

Jamie had obviously already considered that same thought. 

"Normally, yes. But under one of my contracts with the Defense Department, I have access to a research CT facility where this kind of exam can be done very discretely. In fact, you might be surprised to know you would not be the first person to have a brain CT scan done there while being sexually stimulated to orgasm. Sexual dysfunction in both men and women can result from a variety of causes connected with military service. As a matter of fact, we've done this type of CT scan on several patients of both genders. 

The facility staff was carefully selected to preserve professionalism and confidentiality and to make the patients as comfortable as possible. The procedures, from intake through the test itself and its results are closely controlled, and access to both the procedure and the data that results is limited to only those people who absolutely need to know. In your case, that would be the radiologist who operates the equipment, Lorraine or Kim who assist you during the test, and me reviewing the results with the radiologist, Lorraine, and Kim. 

Tom, I don't want to minimize the importance of the procedure and results, but frankly, for the facility staff, you're no different that others who have been subjected to the same test. Your identity will be coded, just as it is for the other people who are tested. The staff will never learn your true identity -- unless you want them to."

I was almost reassured. Not completely, but almost. 

"I thought that during a CT scan, the person had to lie completely still," I said to no one in particular.

"And you're wondering how the motion associated with your masturbation might influence the results?" Kim finished my thought for me.

"That's why someone with whom you're comfortable, probably either Lorraine or Kim, will need to be there to 'assist' you during the procedure," Jamie answered. "Your head will be immobilized as will your upper torso and arms. The assistant will provide the necessary stimulation and manual manipulation. It will be up to you and them which one of them assists you."

Somehow, "necessary stimulation and manual manipulation" didn't sound as enticing as "hand job." 

"I'll volunteer for that," Kim said with unconcealed eagerness. "Being a medical doctor, I can also monitor his physical and behavioral responses during the test as well."

I felt like asking Kim if that was her only motivation but decided against it.

Jamie put it directly to me. "Well, Tom, it's entirely up to you if you want to do either, both, or neither test. The easiest to arrange is probably the first one. It would be up to Lorraine and Kim when it would fit into their schedules to do it here. 

As for the CT scan, that will take a couple weeks, maybe longer, to schedule into the facility. It's about sixty miles from here, so it could be scheduled for a Saturday or Sunday."

"Would it be all right with all of you if we did the first test here, then looked at the results to decide if I should have the CT scan done?" I asked.

"That's an excellent suggestion, Tom," Jamie responded. "I don't think the first test will be conclusive, however its results might help us better structure and conduct the CT scan. Good idea!"

We all talked for another fifteen minutes or so, and we agreed that the first test in Lorraine's office would be on the Saturday at the end of the next week, eight days from today. That worked well into everyone's schedule.

The meeting concluded amiably. But as I walked to my car, I was feeling oddly uneasy. Something, I'm not quite sure what, was troubling me. I opened my car door but heard Kim call out to me before I could get in. Her car was parked just ahead of mine at the curb. 

"Tom, I was wondering if you would like to come by the house tomorrow afternoon? My husband gets back into town next week, and the kids will be coming for a few days to visit with us. Before then, I'd like to talk with you privately about what we discussed -- you know, about ... sexual fantasies."

Kim's suggestion was a very thinly veiled one that she wanted to have sex with me again before her husband returned and before future meetings outside Lorraine's office might be difficult. I, of course, had no problem with that, but even her sexual suggestion had left me feeling a bit strange.

"Sure, would one o'clock be all right?"

"That would be perfect, Tom. And I hope you will be wearing your swimsuit under your trousers again." Without waiting for me to respond, she gave me a quick wink, then got in her car and drove off.

I didn't sleep well that night, possibly because I couldn't precisely identify what had been bothering me when I left Lorraine's. 

I showered and dressed just before leaving for Kim's. As she had suggested, I wore my very brief competition swim trunks under my clothing. 

When she met me at her front door, she was wearing a casual, loose-fitting summery dress, attractive but not terribly revealing. 

"Come in, Tom," she invited. "Let's go sit by the pool. Would you like some iced tea or something else to drink?"

"Iced tea would be fine," I replied. Since we had to walk through her home's kitchen to get to the pool, we chatted there briefly but about nothing in particular while she fixed the tea. Then we went out to sit poolside.

"Tom, I wanted to talk with you privately today, because frankly I'm concerned that Lorraine and I have begun treating you more like a laboratory experiment than a person."

That was it! The moment she said that, it hit me. I wouldn't have used the same words she did, but she had succinctly expressed what had been bugging me since the day before. If my expression revealed anything, Kim did not seem to notice it. 

"We've been psychologically and medically probing and pushing you as if we're trying to diagnose some grievous emotional condition or some terminal illness. I'm afraid she and I might be losing sight of what's really important here -- your sexual fulfillment and development. I'm concerned we may inflict some kind of analysis paralysis on you, that if we keep testing and analyzing and doing more tests and then more analysis, you'll lose the enjoyment that goes with simply having sex with a willing partner."

"Have you and Lorraine talked about this?" I asked.

"No," she said rather tentatively. "I wanted to discuss it with you first."

"It's funny you would bring it up today," I began. I then went on to describe the uneasiness I had felt since leaving the meeting the day before. But then, having unburdened myself, I went on. "But at the same time, Kim, I don't exactly object to participating in your analysis and testing. After all, if it weren't for Lorraine and you, I would not likely have overcome my unexplained impotence. And you have both done a great deal to open my mind about having sex."

She smiled broadly. "I'm happy to hear you say that, Tom. But please understand that you are absolutely in control of how we will proceed. You should feel free to question and reject anything you're not comfortable doing. We're trying to help you, not push you. 

I think Lorraine was surprised that you and I fucked here the first time rather than in her office where she could observe and record it. I suspect, though, that she was happy at your willingness and confidence to do it outside the anonymity provided by her office. I'm amazed that you have adapted so quickly to having sex in her office where it is being recorded and observed, but that's more an expression of your confidence in her and me than anything else. But there are times when even professional associates should talk and do some things privately, don't you agree?" 

Her voice had turned noticeably sultry as she uttered her last sentence. My cock was beginning to harden. She didn't wait for me to speak before she continued.

"For example, Tom, when you saw the DVDs of Lorraine and me having sex, when she and I were wearing the phallus to try and help me to orgasm, what did you think? Did that change your view about Lorraine? Of course, you hadn't met me personally yet, but..."

"Lorraine didn't show it to me," I interrupted.

Kim looked genuinely surprised. "She didn't? I assumed she would since she asked for my permission to show it to you. And of course, I willingly assented. Well, Tom, would you like to see it? I have a copy of it, and we have a wide-screen video."

I suspect Kim already knew the answer to her question, and if there was any doubt in her mind, it was erased when I stood up to join her. Her eye movement and smile confirmed it. She took my hand as we walked. I wondered if their home had a projection room. It was certainly large enough, and judging from its size and furnishings, they were wealthy enough to afford one. 

We walked down a hall with many framed pictures on the wall. Most of the photos were of a boy and girl, progressing in age to a young man and woman. I assumed it was her son and daughter. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 03



"That's Robbie. He's two years older than you, Tom. Of course, he now prefers to be called Bob or Robert. He's a freshly-minted attorney with a good firm in Boston. Our daughter is Sarah. She's two years younger than Robbie. She's got her MBA and is working with my husband. I tried to persuade her to go on to med school, but ..." she just shrugged. She reached out and opened the door. We walked in to what I assumed was a secondary bedroom. It had a king-size bed, rather neutral furniture, and a 60-inch wide screen television. Once we were inside, she closed the door behind it.

"This was Robbie's room," she announced. "I refurnished it so we could use it as a guest room in a pinch."

With that, she walked over to me, put her arms around my neck, and planted a very long, deep kiss on my mouth. When I responded by eagerly parting my lips, she took the cue and began probing with her tongue. I let my hands slide down her back to her ass, and began slowly pulling up her dress.

"Ummm. Not so fast, big boy. There's no rush. We have plenty of time. I assume you've got your swimsuit on under your pants, so why don't you take off your shirt and pants and socks while I put on the DVD?" As if any encouragement was necessary, she reached down and massaged the ever-enlarging bulge beneath my trousers. Then she turned and walked to the television.

She flipped on the power switch and after ten or fifteen seconds, it flickered to life with a black screen that had the word "video" on the screen in the upper right corner. She opened the plastic DVD case and slipped the DVD into the slot on the side of the television. "Video" disappeared. Then she turned back to me. 

By then I had stripped down to nothing but my swimsuit, and as I'm sure she had expected based on what she had seen our first sexual encounter, the head of my fully-erect cock had begun to emerge above the waistband of my extremely skimpy competition suit. While the suit is good for speed swimming, it offers absolutely nothing to hide one's manhood, especially when experiencing a full-blown erection.

I was anticipating that Kim would strip out of her dress and be wearing her not-for-public-use swimsuit, thus giving me the pleasure of removing it. That was not to be. 

She pushed a button on a remote control, and the image of Kim and Lorraine kissing and fondling each other faded in on the screen. She pushed another button, and the volume came up to a level that their breathing and other sounds were clearly audible. It was readily apparent that their sexual lust for each other was genuine, not contrived for the DVD.

Kim walked to the bed and sat alongside me. She was still clothed, but allowed her hand to settle on my cock head. 

After a suitably arousing interlude, the scene on the screen dissolved to one with Kim lying on the bed and Lorraine standing over her stroking her "cock" much as Lorraine eventually did with me. Kim fingered her own very hairy pussy while Lorraine's arousal intensified very quickly, no doubt a result of the phallus' electro-stimulus. 

Kim's face was beginning to contort as her arousal neared the not-to-be orgasm point. On the video Kim's straining voice could be heard encouraging Lorraine, but Kim's words, spoken spontaneously in the throes of sexual arousal, were astonishing. 

"Come on, Robbie. Come to mommy. Make mommy cum the way daddy can't. Mommy want's her baby's cock inside her." Her desires were repeated again and again with some variation in the exact words. 

Surprisingly, far from being shocked, Lorraine seemed even more aroused by Kim's spoken desire to fuck her own son. Lorraine stroked her phallus even faster and harder. Then, in a sudden move, Lorraine was on top of Kim, positioning the phallus tip at Kim's wet, hairy opening. After a slight flick or two of its tip on Kim's clit, Lorraine drove the phallus deep into Kim. They both cried out as Lorraine's hips worked feverishly to push and withdraw, push and withdraw. Kim's hips heaved upward in rhythm with Lorraine's thrusts. Their fucking continued for several seconds, interspersed with the grunts associated with the force of Lorraine's thrusts, until Lorraine could finally hold back no longer. She gave forth with perhaps six thrusts so hard they drove Kim upward toward the headboard. With the last thrust, Lorraine uttered a deep loud growl, her face pinched in orgasm, her mouth wide open letting her cry punctuate her cumming. Lorraine collapsed on top of Kim, Lorraine's body twitching and spasming as each after-orgasm surge rippled through her. Finally, she simply went limp on top of Kim.

The television screen dissolved to black.

I realized I had been holding my breath. The obviously edited video had lasted fewer than ten minutes, but my own arousal had kicked into overdrive. I looked at Kim who seemed pleased by my reaction. 

"Were you shocked, Tom?" she asked, her voice a bit dry and hoarse. 

"Actually it kind of turned me on," I blurted out honestly and much to my own surprise. "And it obviously had an effect on Lorraine, too. She was fucking you just like a man would!" I concluded.

She got up from the bed and walked to the television, then shut it off before she spoke.

"Lorraine couldn't make me cum then," she said matter-of-factly. "But then, she doesn't have your gift. You showed it to me a few days ago, and now I want it again."

Kim struck a feet-spread apart pose by the television. Her voice became even deeper when she spoke again.

"Do you remember my other fantasy, Tom?" 

"The one where you wondered what it would be like to be able to fuck like you are a man? The way Lorraine was fucking you? Yeah, I remember." 

My crude words had barely been uttered when Kim reached down, took the hem of her dress, and with the skill of an accomplished stripper, pulled the dress over her head and cast it aside. The total surprise on my face obviously pleased her.

She stood in front of me wearing a man's swim brief identical to mine but sized for her. The head of her own electrified phallus protruded out above the waistband just as my own cock did. Wearing nothing else but the man's brief and with the very natural-looking phallus head outside the waistband, the image this incredibly sexy, mature, full-breasted woman -- with a huge cock -- was overpowering. Far from detracting from Kim's womanly sexuality, her "cock" and her brazenly wearing only a man's skimpy swim brief emphasized it. The overall image was a sexual intensity multiplier. I was genuinely concerned I might cum just from looking at the figure she presented.

Somewhere deep in my mind I briefly conceptualized the feelings of having sex with a figure who was at once both man and woman. 

She stood there in her bare feet, her brown hair down to her shoulders. She clasped her hands behind her head which had the effect of uplifting her generous breasts with their pointy nipples. It also revealed the hairy bushes of her armpits. Her waist tapered inward and then her hips began to flare out, the waistband of the brief seeming to be clinging for life. The bulge in her brief caused by the phallus perfectly proportioned for her body captured my eyes when they fell on it. Though her legs are nicely shaped, I could not take my eyes from her "maleness." It was simply overpowering, and I experienced arousal of an intensity I've never felt before. 

Wearing the phallus and being stimulated by it, Kim seemed to have fully assumed the sexual attributes and identities of both a woman and a man. While Lorraine had left a slightly similar but much less intense impression on me, in Kim the transformation seemed almost total. It was sexually overpowering.

She seemingly read my mind as I found myself wishing she were lying on top of me, fucking me as if she were a man. She lowered her arms, then walked slowly and very seductively toward me, making sure my sight of her "cock" was never broken. She stood within arms length of me at the bedside. I reached out to pull her toward me, but she took my right hand and guided it to her bulge. It felt remarkably natural to my touch, and I naturally began to rub it. 

After a few seconds, she guided my hand away from her 'cock'. Then she reached down and oh so slowly pulled off my swimsuit. My own erection bobbed, hard and red. After tossing my suit away, she pulled off her own trunks, dropped them to her ankles, then sidestepped out of them. Her eyes never left mine, though mine followed her hands when she removed her suit. Her own 'cock' fell into a horizontally erect position as she stood in front of me. It bobbed slightly as my own did when I stood upright with an erection. Her eyes burned with sexual confidence as she once again extended her arm and hand to grasp mine. 

She put her hand over mine and moved it to her 'cock,' a clear sign for me to continue even as she slowly climbed onto the bed and then on top of me. As she did, my eyes moved up her torso to her round, full breasts with their perfectly formed and now protruding nipples. I grasped them between my thumbs and index fingers, but no sooner had I done that than she grabbed my wrists and pinned them to the bed by my side. That motion drove her upper body closer to me. She again forced her tongue into my mouth during an exceptionally noisy and sensually deep kiss. I could have kissed her like that for hours, but instead, she began moving her mouth down over my throat and across my upper torso. Occasionally she would give a slight nip to the skin, sending a sharp but not at all unpleasant jolt of pain through me. 

Still holding my arms at my sides, she began licking, kissing, tugging, and biting my nipples. Exactly what I would have done if I had been on top of her. My moans and sharp breathing, accompanied by the phallus' stimulation generated by her "cock" rubbing against my lower abdomen and my own cock, gave her all the encouragement she needed. 

For a woman who only weeks earlier had been difficult to completely arouse and who had been unable to orgasm until only recently, the combination of the phallus, my "gift," and her fantasies had caused this 40-something woman to arouse to near-orgasam as quickly as a young man. If she noticed it, it drove her even harder rather than causing her to pace herself.

Her thrust against me became even harder, yet I found the thrusts' discomfort to be sexually intensifying. Her words became fully sexual, then deteriorated to the undeniable sounds of the sexual pleasure she was feeling. To say she was fully consumed by the fires of lust is not only trite but completely accurate. Perhaps "sexually uncontrolled" would be better. 

The perspiration from both of us lubricated the friction between us. She unashamedly rubbed her tits across my chest, clearly aroused by the feelings shooting through them. Her lovemaking motions exploded as she frantically sought ways to fulfill her sexual desires. 

I found it difficult to do anything aggressively, so much was she in full control of her sexuality and of my body. Yet even as the seemingly passive recipient of her fucking, I was myself screaming perilously closer to cumming explosively. I could feel the point of molten cum forming somewhere in me, and I could feel it picking up speed to make its escape.

At just the moment before my orgasm blasted out, Kim's orgasm hit her. In less than an eyeblink her expression went from surprise at orgasmic onset to agonal orgasm. Her deep, low cry echoed through the room as her face contorted. Every muscle and nerve cell in her body seemed intent on feeling and experiencing the orgasm and reflecting it in her bodily movements. 

My own orgasm hit me harder than I've ever felt before. I felt like my cum was coming out in torrents, washing between us and cementing our sexual bond. I didn't feel my voice, but I heard it crying out in the delicious relief that only cumming can provide. I heaved with superhuman strength against her, and her legs entangled with mine as her body jerked and twitched. 

Her eyes were wide open, seeing nothing, and her mouth was open in silent screams. Yet amongst the involuntary sexual palsy of her body, she continued to thrust her 'cock' violently as if she were inside me, as if this would be her last orgasm.

And after only a few more thrusts, she released the bone-crushing grip her legs had on me, and she began to relax. She began gasping for breath, raggedly at first. Then the gasps became deeper and more regular. In only moments she had descended from violently fucking me to resting her head on my chest. My cum held us together, the warmth of our bodies keeping the sticky goo warm and comforting. It was then during my mental recovery I felt the unusually warm temperature of the phallus. The temperature would not burn us, but it was definitely noticeable. And Kim was now limp, fully relaxed, on top of me, her head, hands, and arms resting on my chest, her now-stringy hair tricking down to the sheets.

I eased myself out from under her, the air immediately cooling the wetness of my jism that had bonded us. She showed no sign of awakening from her slumber induced by the narcotizing effect of her own and my chemistry. 

I was concerned about allowing the phallus to remain on her. I recalled either her or Lorraine saying the cement that held the phallus to her body could be dissolved by a special solvent, so I arose and went into the connecting bathroom. There on the sink was a face cloth and a bottle with a clear liquid. Beneath the bottle was a note that read simply, "Tom: I hope you're the one finding this. It will mean I've enjoyed your gift. Kim."

I took the bottle and face cloth back to the bed and then very carefully turned Kim on her side. If she felt it, she gave no indication. Using the solvent, first sparingly then more generously, it took only about a minute to remove the phallus. Her now-shaven pussy was still slightly swollen and red from arousal, and her clit had receded beneath its hood. I used a little solvent on the cloth to remove the last remnants of the adhesive from her. Then I took the phallus into the bathroom, removed the remaining adhesive from it, and rinsed the phallus in the basin. I decided to leave it there, assuming Kim would find it when she awakened.

I returned to the bedroom and stood briefly looking down at the figure who had been transformed from a beautiful, seductive woman to a wanton sexual aggressor, then back to a beautiful, sleeping woman. She looked so much younger now. I covered her, then gathered my clothes and dressed. Before leaving, I replaced her note in the bathroom with one asking her to call me on my cell phone. Then I locked her house as I left.

It was drizzling rain Sunday morning when I got up. By the time I was ready to go for a short run, the rain had stopped and it was comfortably cool. The run lasted longer than expected, probably in part because of the weather and partly because my mind wandered back to yesterday's interlude with Kim. Swimming and running have at least one thing in common: You can't get a hard-on doing either. Still, I hadn't paid attention to where I was going on the run, so it took longer than expected to get back to my apartment. Once there, I shed my running clothes and jumped in the shower. 

I had just finished drying off from the shower when my cell phone rang. The clock on the cell phone read 8:45 a.m.

"Hi, big boy," the sultry voice at the other end responded to my hello. Of course, I recognized Kim's voice, but thought it a little odd that she was deviating from her usual sterile telephone greeting.

"Good morning, Kim," I answered. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Just a little bit stiff and sore from yesterday, but otherwise just fine. I slept very soundly until 6 this morning, then got up and made my hospital rounds. I'm on my way home now. By the way, it was very thoughtful of you to remove 'it' yesterday before you left. And thank you for covering me up and locking the house. I got your note to call. Is there something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong. But when I went to remove 'it' yesterday, 'it' seemed abnormally and unexpectedly very warm to the touch. Should we tell either Lorraine or Jamie about that?"

There was a long pause at the other end before Kim answered.

"Well, we probably should. I'll leave it up to you. I don't want to do anything to jeopardize your progress, and Lorraine certainly would have to consider it progress in my case to know you once again brought me to orgasm. At some point, Jamie ought to be told that the phallus she made for me overheated just like Lorraine's did."

In spite of her words, Kim's tone suggested she was not eager to let Lorraine know that we had sex again. Well, that was fine. I certainly wasn't tethered to Lorraine or Kim either for that matter. She clearly understood, though, that telling either Lorraine or Jamie about the phallus' overheating would reveal Kim and I had sex again at her house.

"You said your husband gets home this week and your kids are coming to visit. Is that going to interfere with your involvement with my test on Saturday at Lorraine's?"

"Oh, no, not at all," she answered lightly. "I'll simply tell them the truth -- that I have to perform a procedure that may take two or three hours. They'll find something to occupy themselves. Of course, my husband is only home for a week before he and Sarah head to Europe to check his business interests there. Robbie will leave to go back to Boston when they leave for Europe. Until after they leave, though, I will be enduring celibacy again. There is a plus to that, though," she continued. "By the time they've gone and you're done with your tests, my pussy hair will be fully grown out and ready to seduce you, and I'll be horny again. See you next Saturday at Lorraine's. Bye."

She disconnected before I could say anything. It was clear that the relationship with Kim that had begun as professional/sexual was becoming more sexual. I didn't mind that at all, and apparently, neither did she.

Thursday afternoon I returned from my swim to find a voicemail message from Lorraine. "Tom, call me on my cell phone as soon as you get this."

It was about 4 p.m. when I called her. She sounded quite upset. 

"Tom, Kim called me earlier today. She received a telephone call that her husband has been hospitalized in Miami. He apparently had a stroke on the airplane returning from his business trip in Argentina and Brazil. She is on her way to Miami now to be with him. Their son and daughter will join her there."

"What's his condition?"

"The hospital was still treating him in the ED, and they really didn't have too much information to give her. They did tell her his condition was very serious and that she might want to come to Miami immediately. I asked her to call me when she gets there and update me."

"Will you let me know how he's doing?" I asked rather feebly.

"Of course. But Tom, there's something else. While she was talking to me, she briefly expressed some concern that she and I might be pushing you a bit too hard. In fact, the word she used was 'exploiting'. I hadn't thought about it until then, but now that I've considered it, I think she may have a point. I hope that she and I haven't become so focused on your 'gift' that we are ignoring or harming the person who bears it -- you."

Her voice was very sincere, clearly concerned. And her concern sounded more personal than professional. 

"Lorraine, neither you nor Kim have even asked me to do anything I wasn't willing to do, let alone forced me to do anything. And you certainly haven't been exploiting me. I came to you asking for help to solve my mysterious impotence, and you did. It's perfectly reasonable that you and Kim would want to study it further since others may experience it, too. I am completely comfortable with both you and Kim, comfortable enough that if I have even the slightest concern about what you're doing, I'll tell you immediately. At the appropriate time, I hope you'll tell Kim that, too. I will the next time I see her."




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 04



I awakened Wednesday morning in my cum-soaked bed after wet-dreaming sex with Dr. Jamie Devlin. Like many dreams, this one had some parts that were unclear. Try as I might, I could not force my mind to reveal the missing details of my dream's sexual experience with her. Waking up in a bed with a surprisingly large cold wet spot would have been far more tolerable if my recollection of the dream included how I had experienced sex with her given her physiological anomaly: Dr. Jamie Devlin is a woman with a fully-developed penis rather than a vagina. 

I stood naked, stripping the sheets from my bed, and vivid thoughts of sex with Jamie returned. So did my hard-on. Inexplicably, I felt drawn to move in front of the full-length mirror mounted on my closet door. As I walked in front of the mirror and stared at my body's image, an image of Jamie appeared from a swirling mist. Her image in the mirror was fully nude, the figure of a truly sexy and sexual thirty-something woman, made mysteriously even more so because she too displayed her own erect penis. 

I had never seen Jamie unclothed, at least not yet, so I could not possibly have known how she would look. Yet, there she was. Her body was unmistakably that of a mature and exceedingly sexy woman, not that of a transsexual woman, a man who has tried to restructure his male body to appear to be the body of a woman. Everything about her, save her genitalia, was unmistakably and naturally woman -- no artificial or surgical enhancements to be seen. Though she is ten years older than I, her image in the mirror did not look it. 

Her image was so clear and three-dimensional that it seemingly could not have been my imagination, so I instinctively turned to my left, expecting to see her standing alongside me. Of course, she was not there, but when I turned back to the mirror, there she stood beside me in the mirror, facing me, our bodies offset. Only now she had spread her legs slightly and was beginning to stroke her cock with her right hand. Slowly, sensually, it became harder and longer until she was fully erect. But her image in the mirror was looking back at me, first into my eyes, then her eyes drifted downward on me to my own erection. 

As if pulled, commanded really, by her, I began stroking myself with my right hand, matching her strokes with my own. In my mind, I found myself urgently wanting to take her cock and mine in my hand and stroke them both together. I unashamedly wanted to feel the sensation of her hardness growing harder in my hand and then rubbing it against my own cock. It seemed so natural with Jamie.

Her eyes moved slowly up my body until they locked once again on mine. Now I could not just see her in the mirror, I could also hear her breathing becoming more labored. Her breaths were punctuated by an occasional exclamation of audible pleasure. Her face was beginning to redden, and the redness was slowly creeping down over the white mounds of her breasts. My own breathing was ragged, jerky, dry-sounding. I could feel the first twinges of pleasurable pre-orgasmic pain forming inside me, causing me to make some unintelligible sound come forth from my mouth. We were both stroking ourselves faster now, and Jamie was clearly getting very, very close. 

She began thrusting her pelvis, fucking her own hand violently. The head on her cock was dark red with a little droplet easing its way out. She broke our gaze, squinting her eyes tightly shut involuntarily as all her muscular force drove the cum from her cock at the same time my own cum eruption began. Her mouth opened in a silent cry. Simultaneously our knees bent under orgasm-induced weakness and loss of muscular control. I put my left hand out to brace myself on the mirror, and from inside the mirror, her own left hand pushed against mine to support herself as well. The room was filled with my deep guttural growl-turned-cry, but my ears heard only her cries of pleasure when our streams of jism exploded from our bodies. I kept stroking, not wanting Jamie's sexual energy to dissipate any more than mine, and perhaps fearing that if I stopped cumming, she would disappear.. Finally, I could expel no more cum. My strength was drained, and I slumped to my knees, dragging my hand down the cum-stained mirror. When I opened my eyes, she was gone. All that remained was a rapidly-vanishing swirl on the back of the mirror.

There had been no denying my sexual attraction for Dr. Jamie Devlin, but within only a few hours I had experienced two auto-erotic events centering on my having sex with her. The more I thought about it, the more I became concerned enough to call Lorraine with questions suitable for her psychological training.

"Hi, Tom. How are you doing?" she asked casually.

I hadn't really thought through what I was going to say to her on the phone, so even Lorraine's routine greeting threw me off a bit.

"Okay, I guess."

It was quite unusual for me to call Lorraine out of the blue, and she obviously detected something in my response that suggested everything was not okay.

"Really?"

"Well, I had a couple of things happen that are bothering me a little." 

"Would you like to come over and talk about it? I'm available after two this afternoon."

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble, Lorraine. Thank you. Would three be all right with you?"

"Three would be perfect, Tom. See you then."

"Thanks again, Lorraine."

My body attended my Wednesday morning class, but it would be a stretch to say my mind was even half there. I had fantasized about having sex with certain women before, and those fantasies had ended with me jacking off to relieve myself. But my imaginary experiences with Jamie were different, except I didn't know quite how. That was what was troubling me. Why was something usually so pleasurable gnawing at me now?

I showered before going to Lorraine's in hopes it would relax me, but it didn't. In spite of it being a beautiful day, the drive to her office did nothing to relieve my anxiety either. 

She answered the door smiling, but her smile instantly disappeared when she first saw me. 

"Come in, Tom."

She took me by the arm but instead of taking me to her office, she led me into one of her comfortably furnished "exam" rooms. 

"Kick off your shoes, loosen your belt, and lie down here, please." It was a stern command, not even close to an invitation, and she uttered it at the same time she took a stethoscope and blood pressure cuff from a cabinet drawer. Her atypical response did nothing to relieve my concern. Before becoming a practicing psychologist, Lorraine had been and still is a registered nurse. She maintained her RN status, and obviously she had also retained her ability to quickly size up patients presenting medical symptoms.

Without speaking any further, she applied the cuff, then took my pulse rate and measured my blood pressure. After making the measurements, she removed the cuff and set it and the stethoscope aside.

"Your heart rate is elevated and so is your blood pressure. I suspected that when I saw you on the front porch. What's got you so upset?" There was genuine concern in her voice. I started to sit up to answer.

"No, don't get up. Just lie there. Take a few deep breaths and relax before we talk."

It took about twenty minutes for me to give her a detailed account of my two imaginary sexual experiences with Jamie. It seemed to me that I was babbling incoherently throughout. Lorraine listened intently. A few times she asked me to elaborate on something I had said. She did not make any notes. Finally, it seemed to me I had said all there was to say. 

Lorraine looked at me for a few seconds before she spoke.

"Tom, do you remember telling me about how your fraternity brothers set you up with a transexual woman -- I think you said her name is Stephanie?" I nodded, but before I could speak, Lorraine continued. 

"I'd like you to think back to when you and she were talking in the bar. You danced with her, and you were becoming sexually aroused by her. Eventually you and she left the bar and started kissing out in the parking lot. Do you recall that, Tom?"

"Yeah. She was a really hot kisser, and ..." As I spoke, something I hadn't thought of before interrupted my speaking.

Lorraine just looked at me. Something she had said, or maybe the way she said it, caused a thought to flash through my mind, and she had in turn seen something to key on.

"Go on, Tom," she prompted during my pause. "Tell me more about Stephanie." 

"The way she kissed me -- it felt different."

"Different how."

"Just ... different."

"Different from mine?" I nodded.

"Different from Kim's?" Again, I nodded.

"Different from Jamie's?" 

"I've only kissed Jamie once or twice," I responded instantly and clearly defensively. "And I've never ..." my voice faded off.

Finally Lorraine let her face relax.

"Tom, when you kissed Stephanie, you got some internal signal that something was off, that she might not be the woman you expected. You didn't clearly recognize it at the time, but very soon after that when you felt his penis you did. But then something unexpected and very remarkable happened: Both you and Stephanie reacted with emotional maturity far beyond your years. I'm guessing your frat brothers were expecting you to blow up and create a scene for their amusement. Instead, you and Stephanie turned the tables on them. You agreed to feign sexual interest in each other that night. Then over time you became close friends, though not sexually intimate. 

Both you and Stephanie are incredibly sure of your gender identities and sexual preferences. Well, at least you are based on everything I've seen. But I'm guessing that Stephanie probably is, too."

"So what does that have to do with my dream sex and masturbation with Jamie in the mirror?"

"There's a really straightforward answer to that, Tom. You very much want to have sex with Jamie. You're alarmed that you've already become very comfortable with her being a woman yet having a penis, because your upbringing is screaming at you that you're supposed to feel differently. Growing up you were taught that only boys have a penis, and boys don't touch each others penis. You don't even look at another boy's cock in the showers at school. And you certainly don't think about what it would be like to have sex with someone with a penis. In short, Tom, for nearly all your life you've been conditioned to feel guilty, or at least conflicted, about your present sexual attraction to Jamie. If Jamie had a clit and vagina, we wouldn't even be having this conversation.

You see, Tom, what you're perceiving as a problem isn't really a problem at all. You're sexually secure in your gender. You're a male. Jamie is sexually secure in her gender. She's a female. There is absolutely nothing either of you could do to change that even if you wanted to, and neither of you want to."

She paused to see if I had any comment. Evidently she took my silence as not fully understanding what she had said, so she continued. 

"Let me try putting it another way. 

You've had sex with both me and Kim when we were wearing our prototype phallus Jamie made for us. Did Kim's or my wearing the phallus in any way make you think either of us were anything but women?"

This time she didn't wait for me to answer, because she already knew it. 

"No, of course it didn't. And judging from your reaction to both of us, I don't think our having a cock in any way interfered with your enjoyment of the sex -- or with ours for that matter. You knew in the deepest recesses of your mind that we are women. You know that Jamie is, too.

You know, Tom, I have to admit something to you. When Jamie first suggested I wear the phallus and have sex with Kim to try and help her orgasm, I was completely turned off by the idea, but I went along hoping it would help Kim. And when Jamie gave Kim her own phallus to try and help her the same way, I wasn't really into it. Oh, it's true that Kim did bring me to orgasm when she was fucking me with her phallus, but a person can orgasm without really experiencing much sexual pleasure from it. You've experienced less fulfilling orgasms yourself. Well, that's what happened with me. 

But when I wore the phallus and walked into the room to have sex with you, something was dramatically different than when I wore it with Kim. In fact, I started feeling the change even before I put the phallus on. Instead of being just a sexual accessory, a sex toy, it felt completely natural, as if it was really becoming a part of me in my sexual experience with you. 

Just then, in anticipation of having admittedly mysterious sex with you, Jamie's prosthetic phallus became my own cock. I was actually very excited by it and eager to see what effect it would have on you. And when you saw it on me and your own cock visibly responded to what you saw on me, I almost had to stop walking toward you so I didn't cum too soon. That's how completely it had become not just part of my body but part of my sexual psyche. That I was able to turn you on even more by wearing it intensified my own pleasure immensely. 

Believe me, Tom, when I laid down on top of you and started rubbing it against you, it was almost every bit as good as the feeling when you fuck me and make me cum. When I finally came with you, I experienced an orgasm in a way and with an intensity I had never expected. The phallus didn't change that I am a woman in any way, but wearing it while having sex with you did give me a more rewarding and satisfying sexual experience than I ever would have expected. 

Remember the girl from high school -- Linda I think you said her name was? She wouldn't let you fuck her, but you and she obviously enjoyed your mutual masturbation sessions. Whether you realize it or not, Tom, you learned a valuable lesson from her: Masturbation and mutual masturbation with a partner can be every bit as satisfying as penetrating your partner with your penis. Maybe even more satisfying, because with no chance of pregnancy and almost no chance of STDs, you and your partner experience the precoital relaxation that more often than not leads to great sex. 

What I'm getting at, Tom, is that if you and Jamie are sexually attracted to each other, believe me when I tell you that both of you will find a way to make sex mutually enjoyable. In other words, don't let her cock come between you."

I didn't even try to stifle my laugh after Lorraine delivered that last line, and judging from her own immediate laughter, I think she knew exactly what she was saying. 

"So now you're only interested in having sex with me if you're wearing your cock?" I asked, teasingly.

"No, Tom, not at all. There's a time and place for everything. Right now, you're still wound up tight light a steel spring. We've got to get you to relax a little."

She walked over to me while I was still lying on the bed. I had already unbuckled my belt and unbuttoned the button on my jeans when she ordered me to lie down so she could take my BP. Without breaking the hypnotic stare with which she engaged my eyes, she effortlessly and slowly unzipped my trousers. Then she went to the foot of the bed, grasped the hem of each leg, and pulled. I lifted my legs to bend my lower torso upward slightly so she could more easily pull off my pants. 

She walked back toward me and unbuttoned my shirt, then helped pull it off. I laid on my back, now wearing only my undershorts. I had been completely flaccid, but her eye contact and help removing my clothing were beginning to change that.

She looked at the increasing bulge in my undershorts and said, "That's a good sign. But for now, I want you to roll over onto your front so I can work some of the tension out of you."

I did as she ordered, then heard her say, "Extend your arms out from your sides, close your eyes, and take three or four deep breaths, and try to relax."

As I did that, I heard her return the blood pressure cuff and stethoscope to the drawer, followed by some brief rustling sounds. Moments later I felt the warmth and weight of Lorraine's body straddling the backs of my legs on the exam bed. Then I felt her hands working their way up my back to my neck and shoulders, delivering a gentle and intensely relaxing massage. Under her magic touch and after several minutes of massage, I could almost feel my muscular tension draining from my body and being absorbed into the bed under me. 

"Very good, Tom," she murmured. "Just a little more and I'm sure you'll feel much, much better."

Though her massage was not explicitly sexual, I could not help but notice that my partial erection had not subsided. As the anxiety and tension left me, I became more acutely aware of the warmth of her legs against and alongside mine and the movement of her ass as she sat on the backs of my upper thighs to deliver her magic massage. 

After some amount of time had elapsed, I didn't really know or even care how much, I felt her lift herself off of the backs of my legs. Still, she kept her hands in contact with my back and sides.

"Turn over, Tom, and I'll work on your front." Her voice had become more suggestive and less commanding. I had never felt as relaxed as I did at that moment. For no particular reason other than that, I kept my eyes closed when I rolled over. It felt more as if I was floating over rather than turning over on a bed. 

"Please extend your arms upward above your head, Tom, and just stay relaxed. I'll do everything."

I did as she instructed, but there was something in her voice that caused me to open my eyes at the same time she was lowering herself onto me again. 

She was now wearing nothing except a bikini brief that covered her pussy, but it did little to contain the black hair growing all around it.

Perhaps my ultra-relaxed state had cleared my mind and removed the psycho-visual filters that mind clutter engenders. Whatever the reason, my eyes and my mind now saw the more youthful Lorraine that she and Kim had described experiencing. Oh, she was clearly the same mature woman that so awakened and aroused my sexual appetites, yet it was almost as if I only now could clearly see her smoother, tighter skin, the uplifting of her breasts, the clearness of her eyes, and the overall firmness of her body. 

Her barely-covered mound was in direct contact with my cock, though it now seemed as if some sensual force dissolved her and my briefs and allowed us to feel each others sexual desire in spite of them. Her heat melded into mine.

My arms remained above my head even though I desperately wanted to reach up and touch her.

She leaned over me and put her hands on each of my wrists. Then she slowly dragged her fingertips from my wrists to my armpits, allowing her fingernails to slightly scrape into my skin the entire way. The feeling was more exotically sexual than painful. My breathing quickened and I felt the blood surging to my cock, particularly when she repeatedly used her fingernails to sensually scratch my own armpits. Never had anyone done that to me before, and with everything else she was doing and saying, the feeling was indescribably arousing. My utterances and the movement of my cock against her reinforced her digital manipulations, and she smiled tightly as my hardening cock pushed against her own clitoral emergence.

Aside from the swelling of my cock, I was hardly moving, yet her face and neck and chest and breasts began to redden with her own arousal.

As she began to slowly sit upright again, she raked her fingernails from my armpits to my own nipples. I'd never found touching or pinching or pulling my own nipples to be particularly arousing, but when she did it while she was straddling me, I couldn't help but acknowledge her skills with a brief cry combining surprise and remarkable pleasure.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 04



"So, you like that, do you?" she teased. "Maybe I can make you cum by working your nips the same way you make me cum when you pinch and bite mine," she muttered with mock cruelty.

She leaned back down and began kissing me on the mouth, first lightly, then more deeply, while still pinching my nips. In combination with what her clit was doing to me cock, I was beginning to feel that deep pinpoint of orgasmic pain starting behind my balls.

Her own arousal was taking control of her as well. Her pelvic undulations using her clit as if it were a finger to stroke the underside of my penis were increasing in length and pressure, and her breathing as we continued to kiss was jerkier. 

After several minutes of this intense foreplay, we were both bound inexorably for explosive orgasms. 

Perhaps wishing to slow her own and prolong the pleasure, Lorraine broke off our mutual tongue-fucking and started to sit up. In only an instant after she sat upright, she brought her mouth down rather hard to my right nipple and began first tugging and pulling on it with her lips, then lightly biting it with her teeth. 

I knew, and so did she, that both of us were very close to cumming. After working her lips and teeth on both of my nipples until they were red and hard, she pushed herself upright again and moved toward the foot of the bed.

She grabbed my undershorts and pulled them down and off in an instant, allowing my fully erect cock to lay on my abdomen. She stood up on the floor, quickly pulled off her own briefs, then immediately lay down fully on top of me again and resume kissing me and grinding her pussy against my cock.

Now, without any fabric separating us, I could feel the hardness of her clit finger-stroking the underside of my penis. It was something I'd never felt before. We were both nearly out of control. 

The strength had returned to my arms, and I rolled Lorraine off of me and assumed the missionary position between her legs. I couldn't help but look down at her clit and saw that it was larger than I had ever seen it before. She and Kim had told me that our sex had caused it, but until I saw it, I had not fully understood what she meant nor appreciated how prominent it was. 

Using the fingers on both my hands, I gently parted her black, coarse pubic hair, now wet from our earlier contact. Though I've never found oral sex to be particularly gratifying, I could not restrain myself from moving my face to her pussy and flicking my tongue left to right, then up and down across her pearly protrusion. While my tongue worked on her clit, I slipped first one and then a second finger inside her pussy. In spite of the warm lubrication, her cunt muscles clamped down on them forcefully and quickly.

The combination growl and cry that emerged from her mouth ought to have shaken the walls down. In an instant she grabbed my head between her hands and pulled my head upward so our lips could resume their mutual attacks on each other. I managed to keep my fingers moving in and out inside her. Overcoming her resistance, I kissed my way from her lips, down her throat, to her breasts and began alternately kissing and sucking each of her nipples. Knowing her propensity for nipple orgasms, I gently took each of them between my teeth only once.

Now her body was beginning to writhe from side to side, the first sure sign of her imminent orgasm.

"Fuck me, Tom! Do it now!" she cried. Those were to be the last intelligible words she would utter while I was there.

I removed my fingers and positioned my body so that my hot red cock tip was at her wet opening and pushed it in, firmly and rather quickly, until she had taken its full length. Then out its full length, then back in again. Not fast, but steady. 

"Yes! Yes! Right there! Right there!" she screamed. "Faster, baby! Fuck me faster!"

Now she wrapped her legs tightly around my body and began squeezing and pulling with remarkable strength while at the same time meeting my incoming thrusts with her own upward ones, perfectly synchronized. She raked her fingernails across my back, and the feeling of pain and skin being abraded was like an orgasm magnet. 

The pinpoint of pain behind my balls had expanded as the white jism was volcanically propelled upward and outward into her by my ultra-intense muscular contractions. 

The first stage of her orgasm hit her at the instant my cum exploded and flooded her inside. Her eyes pinched shut, her face reddened, and a prolonged guttural growl of release came from her mouth. All the while, her body thrust hard against mine again and again, her cunt muscles gripping my hardness in a sexual vise. I kept pump-fucking her, hard now, slamming my groin against her as if her clit could be pushed back under its protective hood.

Her eyes and mouth snapped open and her sounds silenced as the second wave of her orgasm seized her complete body. Though still driving her pussy upward and pulling my cock into her, her legs flew straight out, her body became rigid in elongation, and then she began to tremble, almost vibrate, for several seconds. Her cunt muscles still gripped me tight and communicated their demands to me for more cum.

Finally, as if some mutual signals had been sent, we both collapsed in a bodily heap, me on top of her, both gasping to regain our breath. Our muscles were totally relaxed and totally lacking strength now. After a few seconds, I had regained enough strength to roll off her to one side. 

With the weight of my body off her, she breathed easier but as was always the case after we fucked, she could not speak. The look in her eyes told me of her satisfaction and satiation, but no words could form. Just as nearly every time before, she tried to move her lips as if speaking, but no sounds, no words. Then her eyes fluttered, and she drifted off into a state of ultra-relaxed sleep. 

I lay with her for another several minutes to get my own strength back enough to get up. As I lay there watching her now-peaceful face, it seemed to me that the few remaining very tiny lines at the outside corner of her eyes simply disappeared, dissolved into her face. I kept watching for them to return, but they did not.

Before walking to the shower, I covered her with a sheet. The shower helped me become more alert, but my muscles were still shaky from our sex. I was not sleepy, just relaxed and contented. I dressed slowly, took a few more minutes to regain a bit more strength and composure, and then left, locking her front door behind me.

The drive home gave me time to consider Lorraine's words about my sexual feelings for Jamie. Lorraine had reassured me, both psychologically and certainly physically, that if Jamie and I were to have sex, it would seem comfortable and natural. Much to my surprise, my thoughts caused my cock to begin to harden again even after the workout Lorraine had just administered to me.

On Thursday morning I returned to my apartment after my 8 a.m. class and called Lorraine. 

She answered, obviously fully awake.

"Hi. How are you feeling?" I asked.

"I feel absolutely wonderful, thanks to you," she said. Her voice was soft but sincere. 

"It was my pleasure," I responded with equal sincerity. I could feel my cock hardening again just from the sound of her voice.

"I don't have any appointments this morning," she said. "You could come back over ..."

She had never said that to me before, and it took me a bit by surprise. I wasn't completely sure she was even serious, but I decided to play along.

"I wish, but I've got a 10 o'clock class that I can't miss today."

"Mmmm, well, I guess I'll just have to take care of it myself," she responded, again rather uncharacteristically. 

"Keep that kind of talk up, and I'll have to do the same thing," I responded.

"Have you got your cock out?"

I didn't, but with that direct question, I fumbled with my pants as quickly as I could to do it. In past phone conversations, Lorraine had always been brief and professional. Her spontaneous hint at phone sex was both surprising and highly arousing.

"Yeah, and I'd love to have you stroke it for me while I'm slipping my fingers up inside your pussy," I answered.

"Take the tip of your cock between your thumb and finger, Tommy, and imagine that it's my clit. It needs you to squeeze it." 

Amazingly, I did as she instructed. I closed my eyes and visualized very very gently applying pressure on the sides of her clit.

"Oh, not so hard, baby. It needs your gentle touch today. That's it, baby. Now you've got it," she cooed. At some level I understood she was doing to herself what she was telling me to do to her. Her voice was becoming strained, her breathing a bit erratic.

Much to my surprise, my squeezing the tip of my fully erect cock was causing me to become far more aroused than I would have thought.

We went back and forth for a few minutes, matching words and touches, and we both knew we were very close to cumming. Her breathing was much more rapid now, her speech very uneven.

"Jerk off for me, Tommy!" she screamed into the phone. "Pull my tits and shoot your hot cum all over me!"

I had already begun stroking myself even before her urging, and her last words were all it took to push me over the edge.

"I'm cumming, Lorraine! Cumming ..." my last words devolved from intelligibility into a roar as my jism shot out onto my bedspread. 

I kept stroking myself, even as I heard her words and sounds of orgasmic pleasure. Finally, I could hear only gasps for breath at the other end of the phone line. 

"Oh, fuck!" she said. "I've never done that over the phone before. And I'm sopping wet now."

"Sorry," was all I could say. 

"I'm not," she responded quickly. 

"Me either, not really. But now I've got to wash my bedspread before tonight," I answered with a chuckle. 

We talked for another minute or two before I had to ring off to clean up and get ready to go to my next class.

The rest of Thursday and Friday were uneventful insofar as my graduate studies at the university were concerned. My Friday afternoon class was cancelled, so I returned to my apartment and to call Marta S. Cruz, Esq. She had given me her business card during the meeting at Lorraine's with instructions to call her on her cell phone number. So I did, figuring that if she was too busy to take my call, I'd simply leave a voice mail message.

"Hi, Tom," she answered quickly and cheerily. "I'm glad you called. Lorraine and Kim and Jamie have sent over the latest results of the CT scans along with some of their personal notes on your case. Of course, Lorraine and Kim have been sending a lot of information before that, so I'm not very far behind. When would be a good time for you to come by to discuss my services to you? I'm in trial prep this week and trial from Monday through Thursday next week. I can be very flexible after that."

Given the apparent sexual attraction we experienced when we shook hands at our first meeting, I wondered if her reference to "flexibility" might have been a subtle double entendre to her sexual skills in bed as well. I certainly hoped so.

"Would Friday two weeks from today at 3 p.m. be okay?" I asked.

"Perfect! That's really better for me anyway, because it will give me more time to carefully review all the information Lorraine, Kim, and Jamie have provided. Now, do you have a smartphone you can get emails on?"

"Yeah, but I can get emails here at the apartment."

"No, what I'd like to do is send a QR code to your smartphone. When you arrive at my office, you'll need to display the QR code on your smartphone to the reader at the garage. That will let you into the garage. Once you're inside, the door will close automatically behind you."

"Okay," I responded and gave her my email address. 

"Tom, the QR code will only be valid for fifteen minutes before and after three o'clock, so don't get there before 2:45. And if you're running late and may not make it before 3:15, give me a call so I can expand the time window."

I was impressed that an attorney was so up-to-speed on uses for QR codes, but I was more impressed that she didn't see the need to explain QR codes to me. She gave me her address and explained that for meetings with high-profile, high-risk clients, she maintained a separate office in her own home. She explained that in my case, the potential value of my "gift" and the need to keep information about it closely held elevated me into the high-profile category.

"Once you're inside the garage, Tom, you'll see a door connecting to the office. Just walk in. I'll meet you inside. Do you have any questions?"

"Do I need to bring anything or dig up any old records or anything like that?"

"No, probably not. Lorraine, Kim, and Jamie have sent all your information to me. Of course, if there is anything you haven't already shared with them that may bear on my ability to represent you effectively as your attorney, then yes, by all means bring that."

"I can't think of anything, so I guess I'll see you at three in two weeks," I said.

Immediately after concluding my call with attorney Marta Cruz, I called Jamie. Her voice mail picked up, so I asked her to give me a call -- nothing urgent.

A few minutes later, my cell phone rang. It identified the caller as Jamie.

"Hi, Jamie, thanks for calling back."

"I was working on wrapping up a project closing report to DoD when you called, Tom. What's going on?"

It took me a moment to answer, because after hearing her voice, I recalled masturbating with her, our two cocks rubbing-fucking together at least in my imagination, in front of my bedroom mirror. 

"Tom, are you there?"

"Hmmm? Oh, yeah. I just wanted to let you know that I've talked with Marta Cruz and made an appointment to meet with her at her home office two weeks from today. She said you and Kim and Lorraine had sent over all the CT scan stuff, but she could use more time to review it and collate it with the earlier info you've sent."

"Wonderful!" she responded enthusiastically. "I think you'll be very pleased with her. She and her paralegal are a good team. Emily is an attorney, too, but she's non-practicing. She prefers focusing on doing legal research for Marta and helping write motions and briefs and all that other lawyer stuff. They complement each other very well. But since you're meeting Marta at the home office, Emily may not be there. 

By the way, Kim came over yesterday after close of business, and I remapped her for her new phallus. You remember I had already done that for Lorraine? Given the anatomical changes they both experienced after they began having sex with you, I expected it might be necessary to change the location of the stimulation pressure bumps. I also expected it could be necessary to change the electrical contact points and maybe even adjust the electrical impulses since their clits have become more noticeably prominent. I wasn't sure if their sensitivity would change, but it was a little surprising to see that the sensitivity of both their clits and other areas have increased as much as it has."

"Is that going to complicate designing and building new phalluses for them?" I asked, forcing myself to focus on the business at hand.

"Yes. Well ... probably," she said after reconsidering. "But I think that will be a good thing. Remember, I was designing these to primarily be prosthetic penises for men rather than sex toys for women. And, of course, the most important thing is that the prosthetic will in every respect have the same feel, deliver the same sensations, as a man's original equipment. 

I expected that a wearer's sexual sensations would change and generally decrease slowly as the person ages. I hadn't considered that some condition might cause the wearer's genital sensitivity to sexual stimuli to actually increase, certainly not as rapidly as theirs did as a result of your 'gift.' So in that regard, the unexpected change is a good thing. It tells me we're going to have to engineer in some easy adjustability. I'm really hoping that you will work closely with me on coming up with a phallus design that will allow for those kind of variations. Ideally, it might even be something the wearer could do himself in the privacy of his own home rather than having to come to my lab. And I guess now, I have to also say '...in the privacy of her own home,' too."

Her words, "... work closely with me ..." caused my own penis to begin to harden. As my wet dream and masturbation session had demonstrated, I had an obvious sexual attraction to Jamie, an attraction I had no interest whatsoever in suppressing. 

"I'd enjoy working closely with you on this, Jamie. I've still got to keep working on my master's degree, though, and my current class schedule means Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday afternoons and, of course, weekends are usually the best time for me."

"Thank you, Tom. I think we'll both get something out of it. For the time being, I'm doing all the work on the phallus project pretty much by myself. None of my employees are involved or are even particularly aware of it. In part, that's because I have to ensure that all the federal grant money we receive is spent on specific approved DoD projects. The phallus project hasn't even been submitted for conceptual approval and preliminary funding yet, so I have to absorb all the R&D costs myself. But that's okay. What it does mean, though, is that we will pretty much have to work after hours when my employees are gone. I hope that won't be too much of a problem for you?"

I tried to sound nonchalant in my answer, "Oh, no, no problem at all. When would you like me to come?"

"To the lab, you mean?" she asked. Did I detect faux innocence in her question? "How about next Tuesday at 5:30 p.m.? That will be mostly a brainstorming session to focus our thinking."

"I'll be there!" I responded with unrestrained enthusiasm.

"One other thing, Tom. And please feel free to say 'no' if you don't want me to do this. Neither Lorraine nor Kim may have mentioned this to you, but I have an MD, a woman, informally consulting with me on the prospective prosthetic phallus project. She is board certified in both OB-GYN and urology. Lorraine and Kim and I have been very careful not to discuss you or your case with her out of respect for your privacy, but if you are going to be involved in the project, it would probably be a good idea if we brought her up to speed about your case. That would help her understand the reason for your involvement, and frankly, she would probably have insight about your 'gift.' But like I said, it's up to you."

I thought about it for a while, then answered, "Well, I don't have any problem with you telling her anything about me, but would you please talk it over with Kim and Lorraine first? If they don't object, I certainly don't."

"Of course. I'll call them right now if that's okay with you?"

"Sure, go right ahead." 

I hung up the phone and then put in an hour on the books. My mind kept drifting back to the anomalous Dr. Jamie Devlin, a woman with a fully developed penis and scrotum. Rather than troubling me, my sexual attraction to a real woman born with a real cock was stimulating. Setting my books aside, I headed to my bedroom to masturbate when the phone rang again. The caller ID read "Kim."

"Hi, Kim. Happy Friday!" I said cheerily.

"Yeah," She sounded distant, disinterested, but I decided to let it pass.

"I just got off the phone with Jamie. She's going to call you to ..."

"She already has called, Tom, and as long as you don't object, I have no problem at all with her discussing anything and everything about your case with Amanda."

"Amanda?"

"Yes, Dr. Amanda Wallace. She's my OB-GYN. She specializes primarily in female sexual dysfunctions and disease. She was working with Lorraine to help me try to orgasm again and to retard the rapid growth of my body hair She's also a urologist, so she's been an invaluable resource for Jamie in designing and building Lorraine's and my new and improved cocks. I think you and she and Jamie will be a top-notch team." 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 04



As Kim talked, her mood seemed to improve.

"Do you think Lorraine will mind?" I asked.

"No, not at all. In fact, Lorraine and I had discussed involving Amanda in your case at some point, but of course we were going to clear it with you first. Now is as good a time to bring her in as any. I think you'll like her. By the way, Marta knows her, too, and she will be very happy to give you any reassurance you need about Amanda's discretion."

Throughout our conversation, Kim's voice had sounded rather flat, distracted, even sad. I wondered if she was going through some sort of depression after her husband's death a few months earlier.

"I don't know if Jamie plans to invite her to our meeting at Jamie's on Tuesday. Since I've got you on the phone, I was wondering if it might be possible for me to meet with you and Lorraine, probably at Lorraine's, sometime this weekend. Jamie has already been working with you two on your phalluses, but I'm coming late into the project. I'd really like to talk with you and Lorraine to help me get up to speed quicker."

"I wish, but with my daughter Sarah coming home Monday on vacation, I've got a long list of things to do. I'm looking forward to seeing her again, but I could sure use some Tom therapy. As for Lorraine, I don't know. Why don't you meet with her if she's available?"

"Okay, I'll call her and see if she can meet with me." 

Then, just as I was ready to hang up to call Lorraine, Kim said, "If your schedule allows it, maybe you could come over to the house and meet Sarah sometime while she's here. Walter was a good and loving husband and father, but since Sarah took over the businesses after he died, she's been working too hard on another acquisition. She's way too focused on work. I'm afraid the girl is going to work herself into a heart attack before she's even reaches 25."

"I'd like to meet her," I said. My enthusiasm was totally fake. What I was thinking was really just how awkward meeting Kim's daughter, Sarah, might be. I can just imagine the introduction: "Tom, this is Sarah, my daughter who's just a few months younger than you. Sarah, this is Tom, the young man who has been giving your mother fabulous orgasms every time we fuck. Iced tea, anyone?"

I called Lorraine. Unfortunately, she was just leaving on her way to attend a weekend seminar for psychologists so she could get required continuing education units or something. She said, sincerely it sounded like, that she would much rather meet with me. She heartily endorsed having Jamie inform Dr. Amanda Wallace about the details of my case, and she encouraged me to be as forthright with Dr. Wallace as I had been with them. 

After my conversation with Lorraine, I called Kim back. 

"Hi, Kim. I just finished talking with Lorraine. She's got some kind of seminar or something she has to attend this weekend, so she won't be able to meet with me either."

"Well, at least you'll get some studying done this weekend, and I'll get the housework done. Still, I'd rather be ..."

"Yeah, me too," I said sincerely. 

I gave some thought to going home for the weekend but decided to stay at my apartment and focus on my thesis. My Monday and Tuesday classes were nothing special. I had coffee with one of my master's committee members. He expressed some surprise at how much the quality of my research had improved during the past year, and he began encouraging me to apply for the PhD program. My mind kept drifting away from the campus and to my appointment with Jamie at her lab on Tuesday evening.

Finally, it was time to go see Jamie. I arrived at her lab promptly at 5:30, and she was at the door to greet me with a hug and peck on the cheek.

"Great news, Tom! Amanda is here to meet with us, too," she said as she led me to her private office. It wouldn't have broken my heart if it had just been me and Jamie, but things are what they are.

When we walked in to Jamie's office, there was a woman standing and looking out the window. She turned to face us, and my sexual radar gave me a strong signal before I even shook her hand in response to Jamie's introduction. 

"Dr. Amanda Wallace, this is Tom Connors. Tom, Dr. Wallace." 

When I had first met attorney Marta Cruz and shook her hand, the sexual connection had been noticeable. With Dr. Wallace, it was more like a thermonuclear explosion.

Dr. Amanda Wallace was taller than Jamie and with flowing, shoulder-length Chestnut hair, about 40 years old, and wearing a sleeveless dress that stopped just above her knee. Although the dress did not show much skin, it could hardly be called staid. No one would have mistaken her for a late-teen - early 20's runway model, though her poise and graceful movements suggested she had almost certainly had some modeling experience. She had a seductive face with penetrating, intelligent eyes and a killer smile. I could not recall ever seeing more beautiful lips on a woman. At about 5-1/2 feet tall and 140 pounds, Amanda was not matchstick skinny or slender, but if she was carrying any extra pounds, it was blended perfectly and proportionally into her legs, hips, waist, and bust. In combination they would harden any man's cock, and mine was proving to be no exception. 

"Tom, it's really a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for allowing Lorraine and Kim and Jamie to share so much of your information with me. I spent the weekend reviewing it. In fact, I just finished my preliminary examination of it before leaving to come here. I haven't even had a chance to discuss it with Jamie, so before we get into the discussion of her phallus project, could we talk for a while about your 'gift'?"

"I don't mind. Is it okay with you, Jamie?"

"Of course it is, Tom," Jamie responded.

"I'll be brief today, although after I've had a chance to study it more thoroughly, I would very much like to go over it with you in detail at some other time, Tom." That was the message I heard with my ears, but the message from her eyes to mine added the unspoken words, "...in private." 

Without waiting for my response, Amanda continued, "I'm very impressed with the work that first Lorraine, then Kim, and now Jamie have done to identify and quantify your 'gift', Tom. A large part of their success must be attributed to your being open and honest with them. Men, especially younger men your age, tend to not be willing to discuss their own sexuality as openly with others, especially not with women. Frankly, I was astonished when you so readily agreed to allow Lorraine and Kim and Jamie to give me all of your information, including the videos. Their systematic diligence combined with your willingness to be open to them, and hopefully to me as well, has resulted in some very remarkable and interesting findings.

Lorraine recognized from almost the very beginning that there was, and is, nothing physiologically or psychologically wrong with you. Actually, the other medical and behavioral practitioners that you had seen before coming to her were equally correct, but they simply stopped before acknowledging that while there was nothing wrong with you, nothing they could treat, you still needed resolution to your original issue. All the medical mumbo-jumbo and the psychobabble that sounds impressive when written up in the professional journals wasn't going to help you enjoy sex. 

Lorraine committed to giving you the reassurance you needed by having sex with you. As she told me, the first time you two fucked, she intuitively knew that you had something very unique in your sexual performance, what you've all come to call your 'gift.' And when her A-fib began to inexplicably abate after several sessions with you, she began to consider that sexing up with you was not only extremely pleasurable and satisfying, it might also be therapeutic. That's when she decided to talk with Kim.

Being a practicing and research neurocardiologist, Kim was at first appropriately skeptical that Lorraine's A-fib was disappearing more and more after each time you and Lorraine had sex, but she could not disprove that theory either. And, of course, Kim had some sexual concerns of her own, one of them being primarily her inability to experience an orgasm after the birth of her daughter, Sarah, some twenty-one years earlier. You and Kim undoubtedly recognized the sexual attraction between you from the outset. As a result, Kim was comfortable seducing you into having sex with her. Of course, you were quite willing to be seduced, and I suspect her seduction simply added to both her and your excitement and confidence. And at some point she revealed to you her sexual fantasies -- her desire to somehow have a penis so she could experience sex as if she were a man, and her latent desire to have sex with her adult son. 

Of course, unknown to you, Lorraine and Kim and Jamie had already been working to help Kim address two of those issues: her inability to orgasm and her desire to have a penis without any permanent surgical change. Lorraine had contacted Jamie, and with Kim's cooperation, they had first built an anatomically sophisticated penis for Lorraine to wear while having sex with Kim to help Kim orgasm. Even though wearing the phallus while fucking Kim caused Lorraine to experience unexpected and intense orgasms, it did not help Kim, so Jamie and Kim designed a similar one for Kim to wear while she was having sex with Lorraine. And once again, although Lorraine received some small pleasurable effect herself, Kim didn't cum. It wasn't until Kim had sex with you that she was able to finally experience orgasms again. To her surprise, and both your and her intense pleasure, you were also willing to experience cock-to-cock frot sex with Kim while she was wearing the phallus, and you also indulged her fantasy by role-playing as her son while you were having sex.

So that brings us to the point where Jamie is now. She wants to continue to refine the phallus so that it can hopefully become a prosthetic penis for men who have lost their own, but she also reluctantly recognizes the truly beneficial effect it can have on improving certain women's sexual pleasure and performance as well."

Amanda paused to let us all catch up with what she had said. Then she proceeded: 

"Men and women respond to sexual stimuli differently. 

As you know, a man capable of sexual performance achieves orgasm, but then his desire usually drops off fairly quickly. How soon after that he can become aroused enough to have sex again is a function of his overall health and stamina. 

A woman, on the other hand, often experiences orgasm differently than a man. In fact, sexual intercourse for a woman can be very satisfying without climaxing. However, once aroused to orgasm, hers is not always as dramatic as a man's nor does it end as quickly. Moreover, once she has achieved some level of orgasm, her desire and arousal does not diminish as much or as quickly as a man's. Consequently, many women can have what appears to be several orgasms in a very brief overall period, and her recovery time between them is considerably shorter than a man's. In popular literature she is said to be multi-orgasmic. It's not technically correct but it is a convenient way to express it.

To get to the point, Tom, I believe that the CT scans Lorraine, Kim, and Jamie have done have given us a much better understanding of the brain's responses in arousal and during orgasm. In particular, Jamie's time-synchronizing subject video with the subject's CT scan was a brilliant work of investigative science, because it allowed us to simultaneously see the subject's brain responses as well as his or her outwardly visible responses. Based on all of the data they've gathered, particularly involving you and Kim masturbating each other during your respective CT scans, I think their theory of sexual synchronicity between sexual partners is quite accurate. 

My own analysis of the CT scans is that your personal orgasm response, Tom, is somewhat different from that of other men. Your orgasm seems to be triggered by your partner's, and your orgasmic response seems to last longer and without the expected diminution in intensity. I believe the effect of those two factors defines your 'gift.' I very much hope you will allow me to explore your personal orgasm response in more detail, Tom."

Her eyes bore into mine to emphasize the last sentence. Then she went on.

"I believe, and the CT data stream that produced the images seems to support this, that one component of your 'gift' is to significantly shorten the interval times, the recovery times, between your partner's orgasmic responses. In other words, Tom, instead of your partner experiencing an orgasm, then recovering for a few seconds or minutes until you arouse her again to orgasm, she experiences what her body perceives as one prolonged and very intense orgasm. 

And unlike many, maybe most, men who ejaculate uncontrollably, the precise timing of your orgasm and ejaculation are apparently controlled by your partner's own orgasm. That is the sexual synchronicity between you and your partner. Somehow, the orgasm controls in your and your partner's brains seem to synchronize so that your brain delays your own orgasm until yours will allow your partner to achieve the maximum pleasurable effect when she cums. Then you both cum at nearly but not precisely the same time so you both experience maximum orgasms. Does this kind of make sense, Tom?"

"So before I was going to Lorraine, you think my inability to stay hard enough to penetrate other women was possibly because we simply weren't in synch sexually?"

"That's exactly what I believe, Tom. Your brain somehow recognized the absence of some essential sexual signals from your partner, and it simply shut down your own sexual response. You were getting those essential signals from Linda, the girl in high school, and that's why you and she were able to mutually masturbate each other to orgasm. Your masturbatory orgasms with her were so pleasurable, your dominant male inclination to try and force Linda to fuck you did not form. You and she were having great sex without the associated risks.

Now with Sharon, your friend's mother, it was probably a little different. From what you told Lorraine and she included in her reports, you and Sharon appeared to have been in sexual synch. If you and she hadn't been interrupted by her husband's and son's returning, she probably would have experienced a bombshell orgasm that would have left her out like a light when they did come home. But the sounds of them returning interrupted you, and you quickly lost interest in anything except getting your pants on. That's why I said there was and is nothing wrong with you at all. Your brain was sending signals to your body, and unlike many men who would have charged forward to orgasm, you simply responded properly to your brain's signals and backed off.

I also believe that your synchronicity 'gift' is attributable to your sexual maturity in advance of your chronological age. You are emotionally more sexually mature than your actual age. That may be in part why you prefer sex with women older than you. A man your age, what 23 or 24, with your gift would usually be out trying to have sex with every young woman in sight. Actually, a lot of men much older than you, if they had your 'gift,' would be trying to sex up every woman in sight as well. You show remarkably good judgment and restraint and discretion, very uncharacteristic but highly desirable. Older women recognize those traits in you as consideration and patience, and they make you much more desirable as a sexual partner. "

"Does my 'gift' that causes my partner to have a long and intense orgasm pose a threat to her health? I mean, I've seen TV ads for Viagra and stuff that says 'Don't use this unless you're healthy enough for sex!'."

"That's an excellent question, Tom, but almost certainly not. In fact, all the evidence Lorraine and Kim and Jamie have assembled may suggest just the opposite. As I said, Lorraine's A-fib has disappeared, and both Kim and Lorraine are seeing signs that their aging is actually reversing. It's too soon to tell if Kim's abnormally rapid growth of her body hair has likewise been slowed. 

It would probably take years of controlled study to definitively answer your question, but I'll go out on a limb and speculate that the apparent therapeutic effects of your 'gift' are due primarily to an absence of external clinical and pharmaceutical factors. In other words, Tom, I suspect your 'gift' stimulated Lorraine's and Kim's brains to produce chemical products that do naturally and safely what the pharmaceutical industry would love to be able to do with artificial products they could create and sell. Unfortunately for Big Pharma, their products often produce undesired and unexpected side effects, whereas our brains do not."

"And that's why it's so important for you to meet with Marta Cruz, Tom," Jamie chimed in. 

"Jamie's right. Marta understands better than most lawyers just how much both the legitimate and illegal drug industries would give to even know your 'gift' exists. Particularly the unethical and illegal drug industries would package some placebo product or even carelessly harmful product and market it as if it would produce the effects your 'gift' really does. Indiscriminate knowledge of Tom Connors' 'gift' would make your life miserable, Tom, and none of us want that."

"As long as there's no danger to anyone I'm with ... " I said, looking at Jamie now. 

"No, none that your 'gift' would cause in the absence of some pre-existing dangerous condition. It's been fascinating watching the videos of both Lorraine and Kim when they cum with you, though." 

When Amanda uttered those words, I thought I sensed something other than professional detachment. Then she continued.

"They both consistently experience what are called full-body orgasms. These begin with conventional orgasm responses, but it appears that a few seconds into big-O, their entire body becomes engulfed by the experience. The literally begin to vibrate as if they were being subjected to electrical shock. In addition to the consistently intense orgasms, both reported something else highly unusual: They both feel and remember every second of the entire orgasm. Most people, men included, feel their orgasm's onset and then decline, but little more. They think they feel it all, but they really don't. Both Lorraine and Kim experienced the peak for several seconds, though they both reported that to them it seemed to last much longer. In fact, they both reported feeling as if they were in sexual slow-motion. They also both emphatically stated they didn't want it to end. But as soon as it does end, rather than feeling something pleasurable has stopped, they both drift into intensely satisfying and fulfilled relaxation, not necessarily sleepy, but ultra-relaxed after sex with you. They both did sleep deeply, but they awakened fully refreshed. That in itself is an extremely healthy after-effect of good sex.

Incidentally, Tom, my extensive studies showing men and women experience orgasms differently helps me more precisely define a person's gender when I'm working with patients who question if they're a man in a woman's body or vice versa. An individual's orgasm pattern is almost as unique as his fingerprint when it comes to defining his or her gender. And as I said earlier, Tom, I hope you will allow me to study your unique orgasm response in more detail."

Then, as if she somehow knew about my fantasy, in-the-mirror sex with Jamie, Amanda continued.

"I'm telling you this because according to Lorraine's reports, you expressed some very normal concern over your arousal to pictures of transsexual women. Let me add to the reassurance Lorraine gave you, Tom. You should have no concern about your gender identity. In spite of your rather unique orgasm response, the exact pattern over which you have no control, there is absolutely no doubt that you are a virile young man. That is why Jamie's phallus project is so important. You have a fully intact and functional penis and scrotum and everything associated with them, but a man who has lost his penis or its complete function will begin to doubt his gender when he can no longer experience male sexuality. Jamie's prosthetic phallus project is going to have as much emotional and physical value as other prosthetics have.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 04



The same would be true for a transsexual man, a biological woman who prefers and physically, emotionally, and when possible permanently assumes male sexual traits. His orgasm responses, if we were to chart them, would reflect those of a biological woman. And just to clarify that, I will tell you that Kim is indisputably a woman as defined by her orgasm pattern. Her bisexual behavior and her desire to experience sex as if she were a man with a penis are merely expressions of her breadth of sexuality as a woman, not a desire to change her gender."

Amanda glanced quickly at Jamie who nodded slightly.

"Jamie is a perfect example of how orgasm response patterns almost conclusively identify the person's gender. I will tell you with no hesitation or reservation that in spite of her having a fully developed penis and scrotum that responds exactly like a man's when sexually aroused, her orgasm responses confirm what every other test we've performed has shown: Jamie is a woman. Her anatomical anomaly has had remarkably little bearing on her psychological well-being or gender orientation. That by itself is unusual, because persons with primary sexual anomalies often experience unusual psychological issues. Jamie is one of the most well-adjusted women I have ever known."

I felt rather awkward when I looked at Jamie. Yes, I had been wondering. And I suppose I had secretly been hoping for that additional reassurance, though I had assumed it would come from Lorraine. 

"Thank you, Amanda," Jamie said sincerely.

"Yes, thank you, Amanda. I do understand it, at least the broad view you've given me." I paused, then spoke again. "Now, what about Jamie's project?"

Jamie jumped right in, professionally and enthusiastically but with some obvious relief in her voice.

"Of course I've talked extensively with both Kim and Lorraine about their experiences and expectations for their respective phalluses. As you know, they had slightly different perspectives. Lorraine's interest, at least initially, was to simply use it as another tool to try and help Kim achieve orgasm. 

Kim's interest was similar but a little more personally pleasurable as well. She wanted to once again have orgasms, but she also had a curiosity to know what it was like to have a penis and to experience sexual sensations as a man might. Wearing the phallus while having sex with Lorraine didn't help her cum, so that may have also influenced her initial skepticism toward the phallus."

"Interestingly enough," Jamie continued, now looking straight at me with a noticeable gleam in her eyes, "Both Lorraine and Kim experienced extremely satisfying orgasms wearing their respective phallus and having sex with Tom. After that, both have provided some very detailed and constructive suggestions for structural and technical improvements. But of course, their perspective is based on the pleasure they derived as women rather than as a man."

"Okay," I responded, "But even though your intention is to create a prosthetic penis that will allow a man to once again experience sexual pleasure and even functioning after surgery or injury, I don't think his partner's pleasure should or even can be discounted. Speaking as a man, if my manhood had to be replaced by a prosthetic and it helped me deliver as much sexual enjoyment as the real thing to my partner, that would be a tremendous psychological boost to me."

"Absolutely, Tom," Jamie answered. "And realistically, the prosthetic penis won't always be on a man, nor will its use be limited to prosthesis. My admittedly unscientific research has shown that a large number of strap-on dildos are bought and worn by women. Even though our prosthetic will be very costly and will have to be individually fitted and modified for each wearer, we can't reject the likelihood of wider use than just medical prosthesis."

"So Jamie," Amanda asked, "What did Lorraine and Kim suggest in the way of improvements?"

"As you might expect," Jamie responded with a straight face, "Both of them insisted that we develop a cloned Tom to go with each one." 

She barely got it out before she started snickering, almost as if she had been waiting all day to deliver that line. Then we all dissolved into laughter.

"Seriously, though," she continued, "Both Lorraine and Kim thought that if there was a way to better design the phallus to externally stimulate a woman's G-spot if the wearer is a woman, or a man's prostate if the wearer is a man, that would be very useful. I don't know how we could do that, though, since both require penetration."

Something Jamie said caused my mind to recall fragments of an article I had read somewhere. At some point, Jamie or Amanda must have said something to which they expected me to respond. When I didn't ...

"Tom? Tom? Would you like to come back to planet earth?" Jamie asked.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't ignoring you, but I'm trying to remember something I read about the effect of low-frequency acoustic pressure on the human body."

"What does whatever you just said have to do with Jamie's project?" Amanda asked.

"Well, didn't someone say that in looking at our CT scans they saw some periodicity in them. It was visible but not pronounced."

"Yes, but I don't see..." Amanda interrupted.

"Jamie, you said Lorraine and Kim both thought that in addition to the external stimulation their phalluses provide, they also thought that it would help if the phallus could also stimulate the wearer's G-spot or prostate. I wonder if low-frequency acoustic pressure could be applied externally or internally or both to somehow stimulate a woman's G-spot and a man's prostate?"

"You mean, like, use sound to stimulate them?" Amanda had caught on quickly, and her interest was growing.

"Not exactly sound -- acoustic pressure. When it's in the range of human hearing, it's sound. But I'm not necessarily talking about audible energy. Whether a man or woman was wearing the phallus, it would have to be applied externally to stimulate the wearer. It could also be applied through the phallus's head or shaft to stimulate a woman during vaginal penetration. What do you think?"

Both Amanda and Jamie thought for some time before Amanda finally spoke. 

"It seems to me the placement of the sound vibrator..."

"Transducer," I corrected. "A transducer changes electrical energy into another form, in this case, into a low-frequency pressure wave."

"Okay, transducer," Amanda continued. "Its placement on the wearer would probably have to be fairly individualized in order for the pressure waves to hit either the wearer's G-spot or the prostate from outside. And by the way, the entire G-spot theory is under reexamination. But regardless, it's an intriguing idea using acoustic pressure for internal or external sexual stimulation. It almost sounds like a high-tech variation of a plain old vibrator."

"Yeah," Jamie chimed in. "And in addition to frequency, the waveform and amplitude might also be significant factors. The good news is, because of my DoD contracts, I have a contact with the Navy who might loan us everything we'd need to test the theory."

"The Navy is into developing sexual stimulation devices?" I asked.

Without missing a beat, Jamie responded, "Whenever the fleet's in port, yeah!"

Then she continued, "Seriously, though, it's definitely into low-frequency acoustic testing for undersea warfare."

"So I suppose the phallus would have to be reshaped to look like a torpedo," Amanda chuckled. More laughter.

"Actually," Jamie continued, "I think it's worth a try. I'm guessing that both Kim and Lorraine would be willing to be guinea pigs. But I'm concerned about broadening the sphere of people who might somehow learn about Tom's 'gift.'"

"Well, I'd volunteer to be tested," Amanda answered. "I guess the only immediate concern I'd have is that the low-frequency sound not cause any harm to anyone."

"That's the beauty of the Navy's testing," Jamie said enthusiastically. "It's also testing the effects of undersea acoustics on human divers and marine mammals. The Navy's testing is already addressing your concern. The people I'd borrow the test equipment from will also give me the benefit of what they've learned to reduce chances of medical problems."

"When do you think you'd be able to borrow the test equipment?" I asked.

"Let's see. Today's Tuesday, so I should be able to get it by next Monday. Amanda, what would you prefer? Do you want to go first or would you rather Kim or Lorraine go first?"

"I'm assuming Jamie will be the one doing the testing, so if you've got it by next Monday and if Lorraine is available next Monday evening, maybe you could do it at her office where you could record the audio and video to get her reactions. If it doesn't work with her, then I could do it next Tuesday."

"That makes sense," I said. "If it isn't going to work at all, then we don't need to waste any more time with it."

"Tom, I don't want to offend you, but I think it would be better if you weren't there when the tests are being done," Amanda said.

Jamie agreed, saying that since we still don't know the exact method or strength of whatever it is that sexually synchronizes me with my partner, my being there where the test is done could skew the results. 

Shortly after, Amanda and I got up to leave.

"Tom," Jamie said, "I'd like to show you some of the manufacturing processes that I'll be using in Kim's and Lorraine's new phalluses -- if you've got a few minutes. Amanda, you're welcome to look and listen as well."

"Thanks, Jamie," Amanda responded as she kept walking toward the door. "But I've got a pile of reports to wade through. It sounds more like engineering stuff that doctor stuff anyway. Before I go, though, Tom, I'd like to meet with you sometime to discuss something I've never seen or heard of in anyone else -- the phantom orgasm you experienced when you were masturbating Kim during her CT scan." She handed me her card. "Would you please give me a call so we can meet?" 

"Sure, but do you see any problem in what happened?" 

"Not really. Most young men experience wet dreams at some point, but the phantom orgasm you experienced was definitely not that. You said you actually felt as if a hand was stroking your penis and that you ejaculated. The video from above the scanner shows your erection clearly, but it also clearly shows no hand ever touched it. Not yours, not Kim's. And there was no ejaculate anywhere from you, so I'd like to try and figure out why you had that experience." 

I agreed to call her.

After Amanda departed, Jamie took me back into the lab where she discussed some of her technical ideas for improving the phallus so the wearer could actually experience an erection, orgasm, and ejaculation while wearing it. But she also conceded that there were a large number of men and women, including transgenders, who would pay for it purely as a sex toy to enhance their own sexual experiences.

"Jamie, could you pull up the waveforms of Lorraine and me when she was wearing her phallus?"

"Sure, but why..."

"I want to see if I can mathematically define even roughly the frequency of the periodic waveform."

"Gotcha," she answered understandingly. 

"And do you have a handheld calculator I can use to ...?" I asked.

"Geez, how seventies," she interrupted mockingly. "We can mouse-click some points on the waveform on the computer, and the computer will give us the waveform's frequency and even its algorithm."

She brought up several of the stored waveforms for both Lorraine and me. 

After about ten minutes of tweaking the waveforms on the computer, we agreed that the waveform fundamental frequencies appeared to be about 6 Hertz, but that there were also second and third harmonic frequencies at lower amplitudes. The upshot of that was that we became confident we could easily re-create those waveforms for the tests, and we might even be able to simply cut, paste, and use the ones Jamie's equipment had captured to the computer. At the instant we came to that conclusion, Jamie smacked her head with the palm of her hand in one of those "I should've had a V-8" moments.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't even need to contact the Navy for anything other than the effect-on-health issues related to infrasound. I've already got everything we need from an earlier project. DoD had me using infrasound transducers to see if any of my prosthetic appendages could enhance remnant neural sensitivity. I've even got the computer program that will let me replicate your sexual synchronous waveform as a starting point. Crap! I wish I'd thought of that before Amanda left."

She looked at me with an odd expression, then said, "Lorraine and Kim and Amanda will be the female guinea pigs for the testing. Maybe you could be the male?" 

Before I could respond, Jamie turned her attention to the material used to construct the phallus. She became genuinely excited when she started talking about a new material she had obtained from a former NASA contractor. It was a semiconductor material, very plastic, intrinsically safe, and non-reactive, that could be molded into various shapes with an electrical conductor and even other components embedded in it. Its physical properties caused it to expand and contract as electrical current was applied to and removed from the embedded conductor. The amount and directions of expansion depended on the form the electrical conductor was shaped into. It had been developed to be placed inside tubing on orbital manned space vehicles to instantly seal leaks in tubes faster, better, and safer than electro-mechanical valves. 

Jamie had been experimenting with using the material inside her prosthetic phallus to emulate the natural erection and flaccidity of the penis in response to stimulation. In conjunction with the piezoelectric microgenerators and chip that sent sexually stimulating electrical signals to the wearer's own primary sexual organ or its remnants, the chip output was sent into a conductor formed as a coil inside the NASA material. When the current flowed through the coil, the material expanded according to the amount of current and the shape. That, in turn, caused the phallus to become erect and rigid. 

Jamie's excitement was unconcealed now. She went on to explain that if my acoustic transducer idea was viable, one or more of them could be embedded in the phallus to further induce sexual stimulation. She added that Amanda was working on designing in a simple tube that would allow the wearer's normal urogenital fluids to be expelled through the phallus's head. Thus, in conjunction with the NASA sealant material, nearly all the functionality of a male penis could be replicated in the phallus.

With that, she went to a safe and removed a flaccid phallus mounted on a base that allowed it to sit upright on her bench. 

"Watch this!" she exclaimed with unrestrained excitement. And she began to stroke the flaccid phallus as if it were real and she was masturbating it. As she did, it became more and more erect and rigid. In a few seconds, it was a fully erect cock. 

Then she instructed me, "Feel it, Tom. Tell me how it feels."

I must admit some unease when I took it in my hand. It felt almost exactly like my own cock when I was jacking off. The temperature, texture, skin movement, everything felt completely natural. I even stroked it myself a few times. Inwardly, I found myself wishing I could feel sexually the signals it would eventually send to its wearer.

"That is absolutely amazing!" was all I could say.

Jamie's satisfaction was unabashed. Then she said, "Now, Tom, take your hand away and watch it carefully."

I did, and within a minute, the phallus's rigidity began to slowly subside until the phallus was once again flaccid on the stand.

Now I couldn't even comment. I just stared at it. Then, I reached for it and began to stroke it myself. Again, just as when Jamie had stroked it, the phallus seemed to come to life. Again it became erect and rigid, appearing to be anatomically perfect. Then just as before, a while after removing my hand, it shrank back to the size and appearance of a normally flaccid penis.

I shook my head, unable to verbally express my amazement. Jamie continued.

"The biggest challenge I see now is to tell the phallus to become erect only in the presence of sexual stimulation. The embedded sensors can't distinguish between the various pressures from a hand, neural sexual stimulation, and normal movement. That would result in erections being generated at the wrong time. Normal walking and other movement or even too-tight clothes would generate enough pressure to maybe cause an erection.

But I think I may have a solution. The prosthetic phallus's scrotum is basically there just for show, so it could easily contain a chip and its associated circuitry as well as a small, long-life lithium battery. Essentially, the chip would measure the external stimuli on the phallus and count the number of them in any unit of time. The chip would store the impulses from the sensors, and when the chip sees the right number of impulses in a given amount of time, it would take that as the wearer's intention to generate a hard-on. The chip would then time-release the impulses back into the phallus and cause it to become an erection. Either masturbation or sexual rubbing as a prelude to fucking would supply the necessary information to keep it hard throughout. Once the stimuli stop, maybe because of orgasm, the signal would stop and the phallus would become flaccid.

What do you think, Tom? Would that work?"

"Just incredible!" I exclaimed again, nodding my head as I looked at Jamie, hoping she could see the admiration in my eyes that my words could not express. "Obviously you've found a way to recreate an erection. Now if we can just integrate the nano-sensors to let the wearer actually feel the sexual urges we experience when we're getting a hard-on..."

For only a few seconds, our eyes locked together, almost as they had when I had imagined her masturbating with me in my apartment's bedroom mirror.

"Tom," her voice was now different, the professional satisfaction and enthusiasm gone, replaced with a more womanly softness. "After you had sex with both Lorraine and Kim when they had been wearing their phalluses, you said you really hadn't felt their 'cock.' You felt the strong sexual attraction you have for both of them, but you said you didn't remember feeling their 'cock.'"

Now Jamie seemed a little unsure of herself as she continued.

"You also said that when your fraternity brothers set you up with your friend Stephanie, you and she had kissed and felt each other up. Up to that point you didn't know she was really a man, and you were becoming aroused. It wasn't until you put your hand on Stephanie's cock, expecting something else, that you realized he was a transsexual woman. 

So you've never felt another real penis touching yours, have you Tom? Haven't you ever wondered if you would become aroused and maybe even cum if you had cock-to-cock sex? See, I know what it feels like to cum when my cock is rubbing against a man's. That's what helped me duplicate that exact feeling with the phallus's skin and texture. But I am a woman. When you rubbed your cock against Lorraine's and Kim's phalluses, you didn't really feel the same sexual sensations I did when I last had cock-to-cock sex with a man years ago in college. My concern is that until we can add that component of realism from a man's perspective, the phallus will not be as complete as it could be."

Jamie's comment caught me off guard, and undoubtedly she could see that. Now she wasn't smiling -- she was completely serious. I sensed what she was hinting at, but I didn't quite know how to respond. 

Wordlessly, she walked to me, her gaze morphing from that of an impartial scientist to one of a woman wanting a man. She put her hands at the back of my head and pulled my face down to hers, then she began kissing me lightly and rather tentatively. I did not pull away or resist; her kiss lacked the subliminal strangeness I had experienced with Stephanie. Jamie persisted, and after a few of her kisses, I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her tightly against me, hoping she would feel the hardness her kisses and bodily contact had begun to generate in me. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 04



At the first moment she felt it, she gasped audibly, but only briefly, and then resumed her kisses with increased passion. Though it may have been my imagination, I thought I too could feel her hardness trying to uncoil. Our recognition of mutual arousal kept us kissing, now almost viciously, and we began grinding our bodies together. 

It was a sensation unlike I had ever felt before. Even though our clothing still effectively separated us, Jamie's own cock was as alive and three dimensional as mine. She used it to give as much as receive.

The next few moments, maybe seconds, maybe minutes, were a blur of arousal and movement and sounds of sex. When the blur began to clear, we were in the bedroom of the apartment attached to her laboratory, fervently removing each others clothes without any particular care about damaging them. 

Now completely naked and consumed with utter unashamed lust for each other, we fell onto the bed, entangled, still kissing, bodies molding together in perfect sexual harmony. The now-familiar pelvic point of pain of an impending orgasm was showing itself in me. Wordlessly, but still as if she knew, Jamie gently but firmly rolled on top of me, then sat upright straddling my upper thighs and facing me.

With her right hand she held my fully-erect cock upright and gently moved her erection so they were together, base to base, underside to underside, head to head. She used both her hands to engulf the mating cocks, then began stroking them in unison using just the right amount of pressure and movement. And just as moments earlier, I experienced a sensation I'd never before had. Given its sexual intensity, I ought to have cum instantly. Instead, Jamie's hands expertly tightened and released at just the right times and just the right places to suppress my orgasm without diminishing the sexual intensity of our contact. Her face told me she was experiencing the same sensations I was, and she was exercising all her control and restraint to make them last as long as possible.

I allowed my hands to run over her legs, caressing them, then move upward to her waist, up her rib cage and to her breasts. My fingertips ran under them, then on them, trying to emulate the same intense feelings her hands were communicating to our cocks locked in her manual embrace. Clearly, the work of her hands and mine were having an intensifying effect on both of us. I could see the redness forming in her face, her facial muscles unable to remain relaxed when a sexually heated nerve ending sent its impulse. And I found my hips up-thrusting toward her, involuntarily but pleasurably pushing our cocks closer together in ways that seemed to surprise both of us.

The redness from her face seemed to flow slowly down her neck and to her milky white chest and tops of her breasts. Sensing imminent orgasms, she gently leaned forward and withdrew her hands from around our cocks, being careful to keep our cocks aligned with each other between our torsos. 

Now her entire body weight was prone on top of me. Her arms extended upward and around my head, and her face was next to mine, her right cheek against mine. I could feel and hear her warm breath, now becoming more irregular and intense, even ragged, as our bodies were becoming engulfed in searing sexual heat. My own breathing was less relaxed now, more desperate for relief, and we both occasionally cried out involuntarily when an unexpectedly intense sexual iron touched either of us. 

Then, something I could never imagine experiencing or feeling. My erection, long and hard, began to feel as if it had her cock coiling around it just as a constrictor might coil around its prey. With the positions of our bodies, it was impossible for me to look. I had a momentary flashback to the phantom hand job and dry orgasm I had experienced masturbating Kim during her CT scan. Yet the feeling that Jamie's cock was wrapping around mine, around and around again until she had completed coiled hers around mine, was real. I could almost feel the throbbing of the blood vessels in her cock as her blood coursed through them in time with her heartbeat. I could feel her cock's heat surrounding mine, and I could feel its pressure trying to draw me into the depths of orgasm.

Jamie must have felt something as well, because she increased the frequency and now rather frantic thrusts of her pelvis to rub our cocks together. With every successive thrust, her breathing turned to sexual grunts as she now seemed to be trying to drive her cock into me as well. Rather than feeling any discomfort from her sexual aggression in response to her now-uncontrollable sexual drives, I was feeling similarly intense pleasure. It had an unbearability I never wanted to end. 

Jamie was in complete control, and now we were both thrust-fucking against each other, our cocks still together as if they could fuck each other separate from our bodies. 

Suddenly, she gave out with a guttural cry that disintegrated into breathless release. At nearly the same instant, a rumbling roar echoed from within me and out of my mouth, and I felt my warm, seemingly unending stream of jism explode from within me and ooze into the tiny spaces where our bodies were not touching. An instant later, or maybe even before mine, I felt Jamie's cum flowing as well, all the while our bodies continued to grind against each other. It seemed to me as if our cumming would never end, but at some point, Jamie's body began to vibrate as her entire body, every cell of every muscle, was consumed by her orgasm. 

Her cock remained hard, as did mine, and the vibration of her body on top of mine caused me to experience yet a second orgasm, this one completely without warning and completely unexpected, yet only slightly less intense than the first. I again heard a loud roaring of release; it must have been my voice though it seemed distant and not Jamie's. Impossible though it seemed after the quantity of jism I had surrendered during the first orgasm, I once again felt the sticky flow of more pushing up through my cock and erupting outward. 

A moment later, the vibrations of Jamie's full-body orgasm began to rapidly subside, and she relaxed, completely limp, on top of me, both of us gasping for breath but neither of us making any effort to separate. Only then did I realize that our bodies were drenched with perspiration as much as with our cum. 

We lay together, she on top of me, for some amount of time until she finally worked up the strength to roll off me and onto her side facing me. She moved her lips to mouth some words, but no sounds came out. Then, just as with Lorraine and Kim, her eyes could no longer remain open. She had a satisfied, peaceful smile as her eyelids fluttered closed, and she slipped into a deep relaxed sleep, oblivious to the chill that even the apartment's warm air was causing as it mixed with our fluids on our naked bodies.

I lay with her a few more minutes, partially to regain my own strength and partially because I didn't want to disturb her sleep. Then I arose, covered her with the bed sheet and a blanket, and found the bathroom where I showered. After drying off, I returned to the bedroom, gathered my clothes strewn about, and dressed. Jamie was still sleeping soundly when I bent over, kissed her cheek, and left.

It was only on the drive home that I was hit with an amazing realization: Not once during my sexual session with Jamie had I actually looked at her cock. Not once had I seen it. Even more amazingly, I didn't care. It simply didn't matter that she had one. Our sexual experience had been entirely on the way we touched each other, not the unusualness of the dual hardnesses between us.

Before my first Wednesday class, I called Jamie to see how she was feeling, but all I got was her voice mail. I left her a message that I would be in classes all day. I returned from my classes late Wednesday afternoon and found a voice mail message on my home phone from Kim. "Hi, Tom. Sarah and I are headed out of town and won't be back until late Saturday night. Sarah flies out Sunday morning. Guess you won't get to meet her until her next visit. Have a great rest of your week!"

I was just about to try and call Jamie again when my cell phone rang. It was Jamie.

"Hi, Jamie. I hope you got my earlier message."

"I did. Thank you. That was sweet of you to call. But the reason I'm calling is to let you know that I'll be taking the infrasonic equipment over to Lorraine's tomorrow. Both she and Amanda have agreed to be test subjects tomorrow afternoon. Kim's going out of town with her daughter, so she won't be available."

"Great! Do you think it will work, or are we wasting our time?" I asked. There was a long pause.

"Well ..." she paused again. "I tried it out on myself this afternoon." 

She had to be kidding! After what we had done together just a few hours earlier, how had she recovered so quickly? She paused, left me hanging actually, perhaps sensing what I was thinking.

"And? ... and ...?" I finally prodded eagerly.

"Oh, yeah, it works. It's not as good as you, but it works. At least it did on me. Wow! Of course, I'm configured differently from both men and other women, so I'm probably not the best subject. But I just couldn't wait. The more I looked at the data, the more I became sure you'd come up with a winning idea for external G-spot and prostate stimulation."

"So do you want me to come over to Lorraine's tomorrow afternoon so you can test it on me?" 

"No, remember we discussed that. Since we don't know the strength of your 'gift', it's probably better that you not be there when they're being tested. But if it fits into Lorraine's schedule and yours, I'd like to test you at her place on Friday afternoon."

"That's fine, but why at Lorraine's? I could come to your lab."

"Because we want to document the tests with audio and video, and Lorraine's is already set up to do that very well."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Okay, what time Friday afternoon?"

"How about four?"

"That'll work. So can you give me any details about the test you ran on yourself?"

"Well, what I found at least on me is that the placement of the transducer is not as critical as we thought it would be. And I was very surprised to find that the amplitude of the stimulating signal was much, much less than expected. The effect of the signal was also cumulative. That is, the instant I hit my magic spot with a very low level signal, I knew I had found the spot. It wasn't like instant orgasm, but it felt damn good immediately. Rather than crank up the amplitude, I just left the transducer on the spot just a little above the base of my penis. The longer I left it, the better it felt. And before long, I knew that at some point I was going to cum. I didn't ever have to touch my cock. Not once. I just left the transducer there. I could feel it building up, and at some point, bam! I shot a geyser of cum! It was absolutely amazing, because it actually felt like there was a hand stroking me, but of course, there wasn't."

"Kind of like what happened to me during the CT scan when I was fingering Kim?" I asked.

"Exactly!" she practically screamed into the phone. 

"So are you going to pretty much test Lorraine and Amanda the same way? Start out with a very low level signal until you find the proper spot, if you do, on each of them, then leave the transducer there until they orgasm?"

"Yeah, unless you can think of a better way to do it," she prompted.

"Sounds like a good plan to me," I answered. "Will you call me tomorrow night with the results."

"Nope," Jamie answered emphatically. "I don't want to influence the results of your test on Friday." 

She was right, of course. We talked a bit more, then I decided it was time to hit the books. It took all my effort to focus on my studies and class work on Thursday and Friday morning. My mind kept producing a picture of Lorraine lying on a bed while Jamie brought her to orgasm. Or at least, I hoped both Lorraine and Amanda would orgasm and confirm the viability of infrasonic stimulation in women. And then I wondered what it would feel like when Jamie was hovering over me with the gadget.

Lorraine greeted me at her front door on Friday afternoon. I commented on her youthful appearance, and she beamed at my compliment. Still, it was clear she was making a real effort not to arouse me herself, deferring to the experiment in which I was about to be the first male lab rat. Jamie was likewise dressed very conservatively so as not to influence the test results. 

Lorraine and Jamie explained that Amanda had another commitment and could not be here for my participation today, but Jamie said she had told Amanda about her own phantom orgasm experienced when Jamie used the infrasound equipment on herself. Amanda asked them to remind me to call her so Amanda and I could discuss my earlier phantom orgasm during Kim's CT scan.

"Tom, you don't really need to completely undress for this, but it might be better if you did. Even though you'll be mostly covered with a sheet, if you ejaculate during the experiment, you don't want to get cum on your clothing. I'd suggest you wear a hospital gown, opening to the front please." Lorraine directed me toward the dressing room. Of course, I already knew her office's room layout well.

I stripped, put on the hospital gown, and walked into the examination room where only Jamie stood alongside the hospital bed with her infrasonic equipment on a rolling stand beside it.

"Please lie down on your back, Tom." There was a sheet draped over the bed with its edges to the floor. Once I had lain down, Jamie pulled the sheet's edges up so they met at my own midline. She adjusted them so I was loosely enshrouded by the sheet. She asked if I was comfortable, and I said I was. 

She picked up what she called the "transducer paddle" and held it so I could see it. It really appeared to be nothing more than a disc attached to a handle with a wire running to the apparatus remaining on the cart. The disc was only about the size of a quarter, and the handle attached to it at a slight angle.

"Tom, the disc holds the transducer, and it is the only part that will touch your body. I'll be holding onto the handle with one hand and using my other hand to make any amplitude and waveform adjustments with my other hand. You won't hear anything -- there's no sounds associated with this.

It's difficult to describe what you'll feel at first. Have you ever had ultrasound treatments for a muscle strain?"

"Yeah, a couple times."

"So you know the odd feeling you got when the ultrasound hit the sensitive area of the muscle?"

"Yeah, it didn't hurt or anything. It just felt a little different."

"This will probably be about the same -- at least it was with me. It won't hurt, and in fact you may not be sure you've felt anything at all. But even if you're not sure, if you feel anything different inside you, please just say 'stop' and I'll stop moving the paddle. If I stop but the feeling doesn't change, or maybe it just seems to go away, just tell me to go on and I'll start moving the paddle again. At some point, you may feel some sexual arousal but not really feel anything associated with the paddle. Tell me to stop if that happens. 

I know how I felt when I tested myself, and I also know from their descriptions how Lorraine and Amanda felt when I tested them, but you're a man, and your reactions, if there are any at all, may be different. 

There's no rush, and I'm going to be moving the paddle over only a very small area of your body. And obviously, if you feel any discomfort not associated with sexual arousal, tell me immediately to remove the paddle. Okay? Are you ready to begin?"

"Sure."

Jamie deftly reached inside the sheets, then inside my hospital gown, and exposed my penis and lower abdomen. The rest of me was covered except for my face and head. Though the flaccidity of my cock was a bit of an embarrassment to me, Jamie was professionally reassuring about it.

"Good. I'm glad you're not already aroused, Tom. That will add to the validity of the test. I'm going to place the transducer on you now, Tom. It may feel a little cold at first."

She put it at the base of my cock and just above it. She was right -- it felt a little cool, but that quickly went away. After leaving it there for a few seconds, she repositioned it a small fraction of an inch away. Aside from the touch of the paddle, I had felt nothing. But shortly and after she repositioned it a few times, I felt something. I wasn't sure exactly what, but following her instruction, I said, "Stop there." 

I looked at her face and saw just the slightest hint of a smile. She had probably not wanted me to see any visible reaction.

"Do you want me to leave it there, Tom?" she asked.

"Yes."

A few seconds later, I knew I was becoming aroused. I could feel it inside me, and my cock was beginning to become erect. The feeling was intensifying and becoming less foreign and much more pleasurable now. Though neither Jamie nor I was touching my erection, it felt as if I was stroking myself -- or at least as if someone's hand was giving me a hand job! I was feeling something all up and down my shaft.

Now my whole body was getting that sexually stimulated feeling. Involuntarily I closed my eyes and visualized Lorraine as she had appeared when she answered the front door to greet me. Except now in my mind she was completely nude. Her pubic hair, removed for being remeasured and remapped for her new phallus, had grown back, black and thick. 

In my mind, I was still lying on my back on the hospital bed, but Jamie wasn't there, and I was now completely naked, exposed to her. Lorraine climbed up on top of me, then put the entire weight of her body on top of me and began kissing me and touching me. The sensations were indescribable wherever her skin touched mine -- and my body was telling me that was all over. I could feel everything Lorraine was doing, hear everything she was saying, yet try as I did, I could only lie there and let her do whatever she wanted. 

Not that she seemed to be complaining. Her sounds, her bites, her rubs, everything she did communicated her own intensifying desire and her readiness for me to accommodate her, to satisfy her.

I could no longer really feel either the touch of the transducer paddle Jamie held against me nor could I even perceive her presence. It was as if my entire body had been taken over by the infrasonically-created Lorraine fantasy. 

Even with my eyes closed I could feel my cock seemingly growing larger squeezed between Lorraine and me. I could feel her enlarged clit doing to my cock what she had done before and what Jamie had done to me with her cock, and the feeling overtook me. And now, the voice I heard was Jamie's but it was coming from the embodiment of Lorraine on top of me, now reaching down, spreading apart her pussy hair and lips and engulfing my cock with her cunt. In my infrasonically-induced state of sexual readiness, their distinctions morphed. 

"Ohhh, Tom," Lorraine moaned, again and again. The sounds remained audible but as if they were uttered in some foreign tongue. Their sounds revealed the virtual Lorraine's own intensifying needs, and I could seemingly feel her warm wetness engulfing me with each stroke. 

Her pelvic thrusts intensified, became more demanding of me, wanting to feel all of me inside all of her. Now I could feel her fingernails digging into my chest as she sought strength to continue while at the same time she was begging for a sexually merciful and complete climax. 

I could hold back no longer, and I erupted inside her. Over and over again I heaved my body upward, launching my missile into her and pumping her full of jism that was now being pumped out of her pussy and alongside my cock with each thrust. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 05



Though it had not been terribly late when I fell into bed Saturday night, I slept until nearly 10 a.m. Sunday. After completing my usual morning ritual and pouring my second cup of coffee, I sat down in front of my iMac 21-1/2-inch desktop computer to do some work on my master's thesis.

Yeah, I know. Desktops are so last century, but for a grad student in electrical engineering, the large screen is a godsend for integrating technical graphics into the thesis. The laptops and tablets just aren't big enough.

The computer quickly booted up, and I saw there were some emails waiting. I clicked on the email icon and up popped the information about the five unread emails. The first one that caught my eye was from ShaMad.

ShaMad is Sharon Madison, my mom's friend back home. Like my mom, Sharon is 43. Her two sons were friends of mine in high school. During the summer after my high school graduation, her sons had invited me to come spend a day with their family at their lake cabin. They hadn't told me to arrive at any particular time, and it turned out that when I got there a little before noon, Sharon was there alone. Her husband Leonard and the boys had gone to gas up the boat at the marina across the lake. 

I should explain that while their boys and I were still in high school, Sharon and Leonard had come to our house several times to meet with my parents about school issues. Sharon had been elected to the local school board. Sharon had then, and still has, a great figure. She was justifiably proud of it, though in our conservative town, many of the women (including my mom) thought Sharon showed too much of too much. When they came to our house, she always wore a skirt and stockings. I would peek out of my bedroom, hoping to get a look at her sexy, shapely legs. It seemed to me that with each visit her skirts got a little shorter, and she always sat where I could look right up her skirt. It became almost a Pavlovian reaction with me: She would cross her legs, and I had to close my bedroom door and jack off.

It was probably inevitable. During one visit at our house, Sharon caught me peeking out of my room and looking up her skirt. I was surprised and relieved she didn't say anything to my parents. Equally surprising, she didn't change either her attire or her position during subsequent visits. In fact, on more than one occasion she caught me looking at her, then apparently intentionally exposed a bit more of herself. She obviously enjoyed the attention of a pubescent high school senior. I became more bold myself and actually looked forward to our making eye contact after I had been "caught." It added to my own arousal.

So anyway, the day I went to their lake cabin and Sharon was there alone, she was wearing a skin-tight, one-piece swimsuit with a wraparound skirt. The swimsuit was so tight she could not have concealed a grain of sand under it. She told me she had noticed my looking at her legs at our house. I was embarrassed, but she said not to worry. With two boys of her own, Ted my age and Cody just a year older, she understood. Then she removed the wraparound skirt so I could get a better look at her legs. She said she didn't mind at all that I found them attractive, and she didn't even seem to mind that I was giving what could best be described as an x-ray stare at her tits and mound. I did not need to exercise my vivid imagination -- the suit revealed every delectable detail with absolute clarity.

Then without any warning, she walked to me, pulled down my shorts and my swimming suit underneath it, and then as my cock bobbed up and down in front of her, she stripped out of her one-piece swimsuit. We started kissing and fondling each other. She took my cock in her hand and started giving me a far better hand job that I could ever have imagined. We were both just about ready to fuck when we heard the roar of their boat returning with her husband and sons. We scrambled to get back into our clothes while they walked from the dock to the cabin.

I left for college after that summer, but whenever I would go home to visit my parents, I always seemed to see Sharon at the local coffee shop right next to her growing real estate business. We talked casually and maybe even flirted with each other a bit, but not so much any of the other customers or wait staff would notice. All during college and grad school, she stayed in touch by occasionally emailing the local news and gossip to me. Ted, her son my age, had married, but her older son Cody had not. Ted and his wife returned to town, and Ted started his own business which had become quite successful. Her older son, Cody, had gone to San Francisco and rarely returned home. Sharon's and my continuing contact seemed harmless, nothing that would have alarmed anyone. She was, after all, my mom's friend, and her boys had been my friends in high school.

During my current year of grad school, Sharon's emails had become more frequent and increasingly personal, even rather suggestive. I had begun to wonder if she and her husband were having marital problems. Occasionally she would include a photo of herself, almost always in business attire. The accompanying explanation was usually that the photo was for her latest advertisement. Her figure and especially her legs were still very-tight-sweater-, short-skirt-and-stocking-worthy, and I must admit I occasionally fantasized about having sex with her. Even though she is my mother's age, Sharon is still hot.

Then more recently, maybe a month ago, I had received another emailed photo from Sharon. 

It showed her in a one-piece swimsuit identical to the one she had been wearing when we almost fucked six years earlier. Maybe it was my imagination, but in this photo she looked even better than she had at the lake. I doubted this swimsuit photo was for any advertisement, not even for lake property. She had posed provocatively so that I could see everything necessary to generate a hard-on. If that had been her intention, she was successful, and my reply email pretty much told her so. 

Now today as I was sitting in front of my computer on a Sunday morning, here was yet another email from Sharon. It had been sent Saturday. I quietly cursed myself for not checking my email or phone messages before going to bed the night before!

I opened Sharon's email. It included a photo of Sharon in a tight one-piece swimsuit again, only this one revealed much more of her breasts and had very high-cut leg openings. This one left no doubt that it was not for any real estate company advertisement.

She was wearing high heels and had assumed a come-and-get-me-if-you're-man-enough pose, legs spread shoulder-distance with her hands defiantly on her hips to give me the best view of her legs and figure. Sharon must have remembered my fascination at the cabin with her thick pubic hair, because there was a good deal of it showing out around the rather narrow crotch of the swimsuit. The text of the message said, "Sorry - haven't shaved lately -- hope you don't mind too much ;). Call me on my cell phone between 2 and 4 p.m. Sunday if you can." She included her cell phone number after that. 

My mouth went dry just looking at her. I looked at my cell phone clock. Noon. I entered her phone number into my speed dial. The phone told me I had one voice mail. I went into my voice mail and heard that the message had arrived Saturday night from Jamie.

"Tom, this is Jamie. When you get this message, please give me a call."

I was still staring at Sharon's current photo on the computer screen when I returned Jamie's call. 

"Hi, Tom. Sorry I missed you yesterday, but it really wasn't anything too urgent. Could you possibly meet with Lorraine, Kim, Amanda, Marta and me either Tuesday evening or Wednesday evening around six? I decided that since I had all the right material, I would refabricate a version two-point-zero prosthetic penis for Lorraine in addition to the one we had already finished for Kim. Both have been bench-tested and are working even better than we expected for prototypes. I'd like to bench-demo them for everyone else and then schedule the initial live-human tests. There's no rush, but it would probably be easier for everyone if we all met together and got it going."

"Either evening would be fine with me. My schedule may be more flexible than theirs, so you all pick the date and time and just let me know."

"Actually, Marta said Wednesday would be better for her, but everyone else is fine with either night. Why don't we go ahead and set it for Wednesday night, six p.m., my lab?"

"Perfect. What do I need to do to prepare?"

"Nothing, really, Tom. So, how did your meeting with Amanda go yesterday?"

Jamie had probably already spoken with Amanda since yesterday to set up the meeting, but I didn't know how much, if anything, Amanda had told Jamie about either her plans for yesterday or the outcome, so I decided to keep my comments simple.

"Pretty well. She showed me the technology in her laboratory room. Pretty interesting stuff. A little spooky -- gets kind of close to mind control -- but it's still interesting. Did you work with her in designing the room?"

"Yeah, but we tried very hard to stay focused on facilitating people's natural reactions rather than forcing or directing them. Did she do the demo for you while you were in the room?"

"You mean with me sitting in the chair alone in the room? Yeah, she did."

"How hard did you cum?" 

Jamie's very direct question was a little unnerving. Had Amanda told her about our ending up in bed during the supposed demonstration? Though she may not have known the underlying cause, Jamie sensed my uneasiness and came to my rescue before I could answer.

"I was the first test subject, Tom, so I know what happens. Neither I nor you have any sexual dysfunction, so when Amanda fires up the room-conditioning stimuli tailored to the person in the chair, an unimpaired person is almost always going to do what comes naturally -- have an orgasm!"

"Yep, that's pretty much what happened all right. I'm surprised at the intense and almost uncontrollable effect it had on me, though."

"I'm not," Jamie responded. "Given the probability that your neurochemistry is already primed for explosive orgasms, almost any external stimulation would have caused you to cum very hard. It did me, too. A couple flicks of my finger, and I was screaming like some high school girl having her first orgasm. Surprised the hell out of me, but Amanda said she would have been disappointed if I hadn't lost control."

"Maybe Amanda ought to put you and me in her magic room together sometime," I suggested jokingly. 

There was no discernible humor in Jamie's voice when she answered, "Mmmm. We should definitely do that. Yeah. Definitely."

Jamie and I talked for a few more minutes, confirmed the time and place for the Wednesday meeting, and then disconnected. She had some work to do, and I needed to do laundry.

A little after two I brought a basket full of my clean laundry up from the dryer and put it in my bedroom.

Then I picked up the phone and hit the speed dial for Sharon.

"Hello, this is Sharon."

"Hi, Sharon, it's Tom Connors."

"Tom! Hi! I take it you got my email?"

"Oh, yeah. I got it. It made my day. You look wonderful. Have you been working out or what?"

"Thank you. Not really working out. Just exercising regularly and watching my diet more carefully."

"Well, whatever you're doing, please don't stop. I still swim two or three times a week, but that's mainly to control the stress of grad school. No more competition swimming, though. I'll bet you don't wear that suit when you swim, do you?"

"I take it you liked it." She sounded pleased. "You're right. I'd probably get arrested if I wore that to a public pool. No, that picture was just for you -- no one else. 

Your mom was very proud of you, being on the university swim team for four years, Tom. She kept a scrapbook of all your photos and newspaper clippings. She even gave me copies of a few of your photos. I often wondered how you managed to get everything you've got into that tiny swimsuit, though," she laughed. 

"Since you were nice enough to send me your photo, perhaps I should reciprocate," I suggested. I had fully expected her to laugh it off, but...

"I'd hoped you might offer to do that, Tom. But let me give you my special private email address. Wouldn't want Leonard or anyone else getting the wrong idea now, would we?" Or the right one, I thought to myself.

I wrote down her very nondescript email address. I already knew just the photo I'd take of myself and the caption I'd send to her.

"But Tom, the reason I wanted you to call is that I'm going to be in Harper next Saturday and Sunday on business, and I thought you might want to drive over Saturday night. We could visit, and you could be my dinner guest at an event I want to attend."

Harper is a town of 95,000 and about 20 miles from my university. It had not escaped my notice that she had said the invitation was to dine with her, not with her and her husband. 

"I'd enjoy that, Sharon. I had planned on doing some studying, but having dinner with you sounds much better."

"Wonderful. Here's directions to get there." She proceeded to give me the driving route. Sharon went on to explain that it was a private estate, gated, and secluded.

"It's where I'm staying and where a small and very select group of business people from this ten-state region is having an annual meeting. When you get there, you'll have to identify yourself to the guard at the front gate. Just tell him you're Mr. Thomas with the Five-Twelve Party. That's how you will be identified on his list. You'll see parking alongside the building. Just walk in through the front door, go to the concierge, and tell her you're here to meet Sharon. You won't ever have to give your name. I'll come get you. And Tom, it would be very nice if you could wear a nice sports jacket and tie, or even a suit. The dining room here isn't exactly formal, but it's definitely not burger joint casual, either. Can you be here at 6:30 p.m.?"

"Sure. Easy. Six-thirty p.m., next Saturday, in my suit. Got it. Anything else."

"Do you prefer a beef, chicken, fish, or vegetarian dinner?"

"Fish will be fine, thanks."

"All right then. By the way, there is no alcohol served there. We don't want any of our guests getting pulled over for DUI on your way home later in the evening. I'm quite sure you will have a very nice evening. See you Saturday night." 

Sharon's call had left my cock hard and fully erect, so I changed into my Speedo competition swimsuit. My cock head extended a bit above the waistband, but I seriously doubted Sharon would be offended. I took my full body length photo with my digital camera, mimicking her own provocative pose as closely as possible, then downloaded the high-res image to my computer. I figured by sending a high-res photo, she could zoom in on anything of particular interest. I added the caption, "Now, see what you've done!?" Then I fired off the message with attachment to her private email.

In fewer than ten minutes I heard my computer beep the "email waiting" signal. It was from Sharon's email address, though it had been sent with a pseudonym. 

"Wow! I'm buying Speedo stock!!!!" Apparently Sharon had been just as turned on by my competition suit as Kim had. I hoped the results would be the same -- or even better if that was possible.

I pulled up Sharon's most recent swimsuit photo into my computer's photo editing software and began playing with it. Her power-woman pose against a plain background was perfect for editing. It required very little photo editing for me to reveal more of her breasts, emphasize her already pokey nipples under the material, and slightly increase her pussy hair. When I was satisfied with my editing work, I sent the photo to her discrete email address. Then I used my computer's secure overwrite software to securely delete all the emails and photos we had exchanged. No point in leaving anything on the computer that might raise eyebrows. 

Before I got to my first Monday class, my master's thesis committee chairman stopped me and dropped a bombshell requirement. The committee wanted me to make some changes to my thesis and to have the latest draft ready to deliver to the committee on Thursday. Though I didn't show it outwardly, their unreasonably short demand upset me considerably. But, I agreed to do the best I could. Fortunately, I had only one morning class on Tuesday, no classes Tuesday afternoon, and only one important class Wednesday. The other two Wednesday classes I could cut. Monday night, though, I called Jamie to explain why I would only have a limited time available for the Wednesday night meeting at her office.

Much to my surprise, Jamie responded with laughter rather than sympathy.

"Tom, here's some insider information from someone who's been there. You're getting the post-graduate jerk-around that is normally not administered to master's candidates; it's normally reserved for PhD candidates. It may not seem like it, but your committee is actually paying you one huge compliment. They're testing your response rather than your knowledge. My guess is that they see you as an excellent candidate for a PhD program in double-E and they want to see how you handle serious academic pressure. Look, do the best you can to respond unemotionally and competently to their absolutely unreasonable demands. If you can't complete parts of them, tell the committee up front what you could not finish. Above all, do the very best you can, but don't worry."

"Actually, Jamie, I have all the information I need to respond. It's just that with the limited time they've given me, I can't respond as completely as I'd like."

"Perfect! That's exactly what you should do, and you should also outline for them exactly how you would have responded with more time. If you do that, you'll blow them away.

And Tom, don't worry about having to cut out early from Wednesday night's meeting. In fact, if you want to skip it altogether, I'm sure everyone will understand."

"Thanks, but by six o'clock Wednesday, I'm sure I'm going to be ready for a break. But I will need to get home afterward and finish my write-up to turn in on Thursday."

"Whatever works for you," she said brightly. Then we disconnected.

By the time I got to Jamie's laboratory on Wednesday night, I was pretty wrung out. I still needed a couple hours of word processor time to finish the redraft of my thesis, but during my drive to her lab, I was able to give some thought to her prosthetic phallus project.

I pushed the doorbell button alongside the lab's public entry door, and moments later, Jamie appeared to let me in.

"How's the thesis coming?" she asked.

I explained I'd need a couple hours on the computer and printer before going to bed. She seemed genuinely pleased that I had been able to respond almost completely to my committee's intentionally unreasonable requirements. She was also sympathetic to my obvious fatigue.

"Before we go in, Tom, I need to let you know Marta could not be here tonight. She called, and one of her clients had some emergency. She sent her paralegal, Emily, instead. I don't think you've met Emily yet, so I wanted to let you know so you wouldn't be uncomfortable when you saw a strange face at the table. Emily has worked closely with Marta and has read and reviewed all the material Lorraine, Kim, and I have sent about your case and the project."

With that, Jamie escorted me into her lab's conference room. 

"Tom's here, so we can get started. He can only be here a short time tonight. His thesis committee is jerking him around. I think we all went through that or something like it in our post grad days."

Everyone nodded knowingly. There were a few murmurs of sympathy




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 05



"First, Emily, this is Tom Connors. Tom, this is Emily Feinstein."

She stood, and we shook hands.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Tom. I've looked at everything about you sent to Marta, but it's always helpful to meet and talk with our clients in person."

Whereas people meeting Marta Cruz for the first time could easily mistake her for an actress or somewhat older model, no one would make that mistake with Emily Feinstein. She had a plain looking face with very little or no makeup, black eyebrows, noticeable but not ugly fine darker hair above her upper lip, pretty eyes overshadowed by nerdy eyeglasses with unfashionable thin black frames. Her hair was closer to being short than long; it was difficult to tell because it looked as if hairstyle was the last thing on her mind. She looked more Big Bang Theory than New York Law. Of course, she wasn't a lawyer; she was Marta's paralegal. Though Emily had graduated law school, she decided she simply didn't want to be a lawyer. Emily had a very nice smile and a warm friendly manner. She certainly had quiet confidence. Given her loose-fitting, rather casual attire, about the only thing I could say about her figure was it appeared weight proportional to her 5-foot-5-inch height. Still, even in her plainness or maybe because of it, there was something sexy about Emily Feinstein. Maybe it was the impression that she would prefer to be reading a book or otherwise enriching her mind rather than standing in front of a mirror worrying about the placement of every hair and the perfect match of her attire with her lipstick. 

"Thank you, Emily. It's nice to meet you, too." She returned my smile when we made eye contact. Not hot, not cold; probably just pleasant, professional.

We took our seats around the conference table. The only seat remaining for me was between Jamie and Kim. All the seats had been arranged so everyone could see the projection screen on the wall. There was a Cat-5 cable from a wall receptacle to the table. Jamie brought a box to the table and removed the two prototype phalluses from it. Both were obviously flaccid. One was already mounted on a base, but the other had not yet been mounted. Each base had a cable receptacle on it. 

"These are the two prototypes we've prepared. One is for Lorraine and the other is for Kim," Jamie explained. "Each is electronically identical but physically proportioned for the person who will wear it. As Amanda would tell you, there is no meaningful correlation between penis size and body size in the real world. A very small man can have a very large penis, whereas a large man can have a small one. Consequently, in sizing a prosthetic penis, the size will pretty much be determined by what is most comfortable for the ultimate recipient. That's why each one will have to be custom-tailored to the end-user.

We all understand that our sexual responses are processed and controlled by our brains, not by our genitalia. But our brain depends heavily on the external stimuli it receives to calculate and then coordinate our sexual responses. The penis is a host for a variety of neurosensors. Those sensors receive tactile information, then transmit it through the neural system to the brain. The brain in turn processes that information and other information from other bodily sensors, then sends the appropriate commands over the same neural system to all the other systems that result in erection, intercourse, sometimes orgasm, and ejaculation in men and sometimes women, too. 

With our prototype phallus, we've been able to approximate some of the penis's sensory functions as well as some of its physical ones. The challenge for us in developing a truly artificial replacement penis for a man is in the exchange of neural impulses between the phallus and the man's remaining neural system. A secondary but related challenge is in what we could crudely call the 'plumbing' interface between the man's remaining urogenital components and the artificial penis. Remember, this phallus is being designed to not be surgically attached to the wearer. It is being designed purely for temporary wear to help the wearer regain lost sexual pleasure and activity at some level. 

Of course at this preliminary stage of design and testing, finding a suitable male subject for testing would be difficult if not impossible. And in fact, it's actually easier to design this phallus for a woman to wear and use comfortably and pleasurably. The physical placement of extrusions and tiny electrodes on the surface that is attached via medical adhesives to a woman's genitalia essentially provide the external stimuli she would experience having sex with another partner or even masturbating herself. There would be no real need for a 'plumbing' interface unless the woman wearer is an ejaculator. Even then, the design might simply involve a hidden release opening that would allow her ejaculate to escape just as it would if she were not wearing the phallus. It may prove to be more successful to design for a woman then adapt the design to an intended male.

Still, Amanda is continuing to try and come up with a urogenital interface for both men and women phalluses. Ultimately we hope this will result in more convenient and sanitary use.

With that in mind, let me demonstrate the basic application and operation of our two improved prototypes. This blank base has an anatomically accurate molded replica of the wearer's mound area. It has transmitters and receptors that approximate those of the intended wearer. This prototype happens to be the one designed and fitted for Kim. 

Now I'm going to use this surgical cement to carefully affix this prototype phallus to the base. This is exactly how it would be attached to Kim."

Jamie expertly made the attachment in less than two minutes. Then she put the just-completed base and phallus aside.

"The surgical adhesive needs to cure for at least ten to fifteen minutes," she explained. "So rather that wait for the adhesive to cure, I'll continue the demonstration with the second phallus I've already mounted earlier today. This one is the one designed for and fitted to Lorraine."

She plugged in the cable, and immediately several horizontal lines, each representing the waveform of a sensor, appeared on the projection screen. All of the lines were relatively flat.

"You'll notice the phallus is completely flaccid. In the first prototypes I made for Lorraine and Kim, both were completely erect just like a commercial dildo you might buy at a sex shop. However, Tom recalled an article about a semiconductor plastic material made under contract for NASA to use as an electrically-activated sealant in spacecraft. When an electric current was applied to a tiny wire embedded in the material, the material expanded to seal a duct or fissure much as a bladder might be inflated by air or liquid to seal something. Once the electric current was removed, the sealant returned to its original size and shape. The exact size and shape taken by the sealant was determined by the shape and position of the small wire embedded in it. The rate of expansion and contraction of the sealant was determined by how much and how quickly electrical current was applied or withdrawn. 

It is this material that Tom and I used to allow the phallus to remain discretely flaccid yet be stimulated to full erection. It's easier to see rather than explain. 

Anyone want to give Lorraine's phallus a hand job?" Jamie asked with a laugh.

Without any hesitation, Emily spoke up. "Sure, I will. I never had a chance to handle the first versions, so..."

Jamie connected the cable to the phallus, then placed the assembly in front of Emily.

"Before you begin, Emily, I'd like you to be thinking about how the phallus feels in your hand while you're stroking it. The 'skin' is a material that we hope replicates human penis' skin as closely as possible. If it's too plastic-like, there will be reduced friction between the penis and the host's vagina. But if it's too dry and leather-like, it will be too abrasive."

Emily nodded, then confidently placed her hand around the limp phallus. 

"It feels very normal, very lifelike," she said. 

After just a few strokes, she said, "Wow! It's getting harder. And longer. This is incredible! Fantastic!"

In less than a minute of stroking, it was fully erect. Those of us who had been watching the screen had seen the penis sensors' waveforms begin to change immediately when she started.

Jamie briefly explained what sensor five of the six waveforms represented. I understood them but did not recall any sensor that would have generated the sixth line.

When I mentioned it, Jamie smiled and said, "That one was an afterthought of mine, Tom. Remember that after having sex with you, both Lorraine's and Kim's clits became much more pronounced. Both of them mentioned to me that during arousal, their clits had begun to feel like they were enlarging just like a penis. So I decided to try to add a sensor that would lightly contact a woman wearer's clit when she was not aroused but that would detect slight pressure changes as arousal increased. That signal would be processed and sent back to her brain in the chip along with the other signals. Remember, whether the phallus is being made for and worn by a man or a woman, we're trying to replicate the natural urges and feelings the wearer experiences during the various stages of sexual arousal and coitus.

Unfortunately, if the prosthetic phallus is being made for a man, there's no way Amanda has been able figure out how to universally replicate the sensations that reside in the nerves in the penis itself. But we'll want to keep looking at that."

Then Jamie went on to explain the waveform that never seemed to change. 

"That's the infrasonic transducer output to stimulate the partner recipient's G-spot if it's a woman or prostate if it's a man. Part of that signal gets fed back to the prosthetic's wearer to add to his or her pleasure, but it's dramatically attenuated when it's fed back so the wearer doesn't orgasm too quickly as a result."

Emily spoke up, "I'm still stroking, but nothing seems to be changing now. Why not?"

"The outputs are regulated by the internal chip so the pleasure period is prolonged rather than rushed so the wearer does not experience an orgasm too quickly. And of course, the ultimate erection length and thickness is limited to avoid discomfort," Jamie explained. "The chip we're using to control all of this is in the phallus's scrotum along with a long-life battery. The battery life is calculated at ten years, but we'll likely change it at five. Also, the chip has some functions built in that allow us to externally adjust some of the signals for each wearer and his or her partner. That will let them shorten or prolong the period of sexual intercourse before orgasm. Unfortunately, those settings have to be made on the test jig on which these are mounted, so at least for now, getting exactly the right settings for each wearer will involve some trial and error. 

By the way, Emily, you can stop stroking now."

Emily quickly removed her hand, perhaps hoping no one would notice that she seemed to be very much enjoying the manipulation she had been performing quite expertly. For an instant she made eye contact with me, and I wondered what Emily's hand on my cock would feel like. 

"Anyone have any comments or questions?" Jamie concluded.

"With the ones you made for Lorraine and me, we had to depilate our pubic area. I guess that will still be a requirement?" Kim asked with a hint of resignation while giving me a quick glance. She was well aware of the arousing effect her body hair has on me.

"Yes, and I don't see that changing," Jamie answered. "The phallus mounting surface needs intimate physical and electrical contact with the wearer's skin to work properly. And the surgical cement's bonding strength would be diminished by the pubic hair. The cement adhesive material will not break loose even under the most rigorous sexual contact if it has been properly applied. In fact, Emily, why don't you give a hard pull on the phallus you were holding. See if you can jerk it loose."

The waveforms responded appropriately on the screen, but the phallus held tight to its mounting. She had applied far more force than any sexual encounter would have, so clearly Jamie's point had been made. Emily pulled so hard I involuntarily cringed.  

Apparently Amanda had been watching me. "I think Emily's effort just ruined Tom's evening," she said with a laugh. 

"The nonreactive cement solvent will easily and safely break the skin-to-phallus bond, but infusing the adhesive into pubic hair would not only weaken the bond but it would also require far more solvent, time, and effort to remove it from the wearer's pubic hair afterwards," Jamie continued. "Any other questions or comments?"

When no one responded, she said, "Then let's move on to discussing possible partners for Lorraine and Kim to test their respective phalluses."

I looked at my watch and realized I needed to get back to the word processor to complete my thesis revisions.

"Jamie, I've got to leave so if you don't mind, I'd like to throw in my two cents' worth on that," I said.

"Sure, Tom, go right ahead."

"I know that you're expecting to have to make some slight adjustments to each phallus to adapt them to Lorraine's and Kim's individualized characteristics and comfort. Rather than trying to rush them into having sex with a partner, why not let each of them proceed at her own pace? They've both worn the earlier versions before, so they know how to apply, remove, and clean them properly. It seems to me that even though they've both worn the earlier version phalluses before, these versions will be a new experience for them. I guess what I'm getting at is, let Lorraine and Kim wear them and experiment personally and privately with them before either or both of them have to 'perform' with a partner."

It was Amanda who first supported my suggestion.

"Tom's made a good point. Both Kim and Lorraine have experienced sexual sensations as women. In one respect, we're almost asking them to go back to puberty and begin to experience those sensations differently, almost as a man. I suspect that both will adapt quickly, but probably at a different pace. Also, both Kim and Lorraine are experienced observers, so I would prefer to ask them to chronicle their experiences with the phalluses in detail. That would include whatever progression toward sexual intercourse with a partner they might make. Those unhurried observations will be important when the prosthetic phallus is first used by a man whose biological penis no longer can function or is no longer present. 

Also, Kim and Lorraine, please include any suggestions for improving convenience and sanitary features. I believe that is going to prove to be very important as we develop this prosthetic penis for wear by both men and women."

Jamie added, "I agree, too. We're not under any kind of a deadline to produce here. It is more important that we get it right than get it fast."

"Well, I'll leave it up to you all. Right now, though, I've got to excuse myself to get back to my thesis. I've still got a couple hours work to go tonight before I give it to my executioners tomorrow," I said as I got up from the chair. "Emily, thank you for being here this evening. It was very nice to meet you."

Jamie excused herself briefly from the group to walk me out. She talked while we walked.

"Great suggestion, Tom. I'm so used to working under DoD deadlines that I sometimes lose sight of the value of patience. I don't think it's going to be particularly easy to find women willing to serve as Lorraine's and Kim's sex partners in testing the phalluses, though. I'm sure Marta and Emily are going to insist on airtight confidentiality agreements, and that isn't exactly conducive to spontaneous sexual responses. It would be helpful if prospective partners could and would be completely honest in their responses and would not feel compelled to tell us what they think we want to hear. But, we'll see what happens. 

Good luck with the thesis revisions. And again, Tom, don't worry. Given your thoroughness, I'm absolutely certain your committee is going to be blown away by your work."

With that, Jamie gave a quick look around, then kissed me very very deeply. I felt her hand slide down over the outside of my slacks and come to rest on my cock. Turnabout is fair play, so I did the same with her, then leaned in and kissed her just as deeply. She was as fully erect as I was.

She broke away and pointed toward my car with a smile as if to say, "You'd better get going or you won't get anything more done tonight."

Oddly enough, during my drive home from Jamie's lab, I found myself mentally undressing Emily. Why, I wondered? In a very plain way, she was also physically attractive -- well, as much of her as I could see anyway. Certainly she was intelligent.

Arriving home, I set to work immediately on the remainder of my thesis revisions. As expected, it took about two hours to wrap everything up. I had just turned off the computer when my cell phone rang. The caller ID said "Kim."

"Hi, Kim. What's going on?"

"Oh, I just wanted to call and see how you were coming on your thesis changes for tomorrow. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"No, in fact I've just finished up and was headed for bed. Did anything important come up after I left the meeting at Jamie's?"

"No, other than everyone agreed completely with your suggestion about letting Lorraine and I decide when to involve a partner in our phallus tests.

The real reason I'm calling, Tom, is to apologize for not contacting you sooner. With Sarah visiting for a week, my work backed up. I've still got to push hard for a few more days before I'll have any time for myself. I think Jamie was hoping I'd be able to start testing my new cock this weekend, but that just isn't going to fit into my schedule. It will probably be toward the end of next week before I've got the time to devote to that. Or to get together with you. I'm really sorry about that."

"Thank you for being so concerned, Kim. I'm looking forward to seeing you again, too. But I understand completely about the demands on your time."

"I was thinking, Tom. Maybe if you're available next Thursday afternoon, you could come over to the house so we could visit. I know you usually swim on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons, so you could come here after you hit the university pool or you could swim here."

"That sounds great, Kim. One last swim in your pool would be a real treat, but the long-range weather forecast says it might not be pool weather. If we can't swim, we'll just have to find something else to occupy our time."

"My thoughts exactly. Then Friday I'll be able to do all the prep work required for me to install my new and improved phallus next weekend. By the way, your idea about letting Lorraine and me proceed at our own pace with them was very thoughtful. Lorraine did, too. We both agreed that we'd ask Amanda if she would record at least some of our tests at her lab -- hopefully without need for any excessive room conditioning on. We both think that at least our first masturbation sessions with the new cock as well as our first session or two with partners ought to be documented. And as you well know, neither of us is shy about being recorded.

Then, once we're satisfied with the basic fit and operation, we can talk about partners. Logically, each of us is going to need to have an agreeable woman partner who can and will describe her responses. Each partner will also need to agree to be recorded, too. Finding them might be a bit difficult. We've both got a couple different women in mind, but it's going to be challenging to enlist them.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 05



Of course, Tom, I'm still hoping that my first male partner will be you if you're still willing. And we don't necessarily have to do it at Lorraine's or Amanda's offices, you know."

My mind drifted away from our conversation and to a mental image of Kim with her new cock standing nude in front of me -- and her "manhood" going from flaccid to erect. I wondered what sensations she would be feeling with that.

"Tom, are you still there?" Kim's voice brought my mind back to the present. I described for her exactly what I was thinking about.

"Oddly enough, I've had exactly those same thoughts," she responded. "Well, listen, I'd better let you get to bed. I know you've got to drop off your thesis revisions early tomorrow. We'll talk again before next Thursday."

After disconnecting with Kim, I was horny rather than sleepy. Off to one side of the computer was the DVD Amanda had given to me. I had become so engrossed with my thesis work that I had forgotten to look at it. I took it into my bedroom, undressed and got ready for bed, then popped the DVD into my DVD player so I could watch it while lying comfortably in bed. 

Clearly this had been done with home video equipment. There was no title, no enticing music, just the image of a queen-size bed and a straight-back chair inside a bedroom.

Two women, both wearing grey nondescript pajamas, came walking into the picture. Since Amanda had given me the DVD, I was not completely surprised to see she was one of the women. I was momentarily shocked, though, to see that Marta Cruz was the other one. Amanda had told me the DVD was showing two women engaging in shifuku no nemuri no kisu, an ancient and rapidly disappearing Japanese sexual practice in which women bring each other to orgasm with limited physical contact other than with their lips and tongues and with sounds. Although attorney Marta Cruz is Filipina, her mother was Japanese. Except for being rather tall, Marta has all the physical traits of a very shapely Japanese woman. Recalling that, I presumed that Marta and Amanda would be engaging in shifuku. When Amanda gave me the DVD, she told me I might cum harder than I've ever cum in my life. She also had said she would like to talk with me after I looked at the DVD.

Amanda walked to the chair and sat down. Marta approached her from behind and began sensually massaging Amanda's face and neck with her fingertips. A few minutes into the massage, it was apparent that Amanda was awake but fully relaxed. Marta continued the massage but bent at the waist so she could whisper into Amanda's ear and caress it with the tip of her tongue. Amanda's breath quickened and became slightly uneven.

Marta moved so slowly, never taking her lips from Amanda's face. Marta kissed her way around to Amanda's lips, then slowly moved her own body so she was sitting astraddle Amanda and facing her. Still her lips and fingertips had never left Amanda's face. 

Though their bodies did not appear to be sexually rubbing together, it was evident from Amanda's sounds that she was becoming remarkably aroused. Marta's kisses became more animated, more aggressive, more demanding. Her grip on Amanda's face with her hands seemed more viselike, gentle but unrelenting. 

Amanda's arms surrounded Marta and pulled them both even closer together. They continued kissing, noisily, both now in the grips of full sexual arousal approaching orgasm. Suddenly and with no warning, Amanda cried out, tightened her arms even tighter around Marta, and heaved her pussy upward and outward against Marta. An instant later, Marta mimicked Amanda's actions, and they both began feverishly fucking against each other. In a few seconds, they were both spent. They relaxed into the chair and against each other, gasping for breath. They remained interlocked in a lover's pose for a few minutes, then first Marta and then Amanda arose. Both walked slowly out of the frame, and the video went to black.

While I had found the DVD to be somewhat erotic, it had not lived up to Amanda's promise that I might cum harder than I've ever cum in my life. In fact, I didn't even have much of an erection at any point during the 20-minute recording. It was obvious that both Amanda and Marta had orgasmed, but what could possibly have made Amanda think that their pleasure would transfer to me -- or to anyone viewing the DVD for that matter? Maybe that's why she wanted to talk with me after I viewed the DVD.

I glanced at my wristwatch. Too late to call Amanda tonight, so I decided to call her the next day, Thursday, after returning from classes.

Thursday morning I put the DVD in my bag. Then a little earlier than usual, I left and stopped at the copy place to make the required number of photocopies of my thesis revisions, one copy for each thesis adviser. Twenty minutes later and about fifteen dollars lighter I headed for the campus. After leaving the copies with my principal adviser and after receiving the rather unsatisfactory assurance that they would get back to me if they had any further requirements, I headed off to my only morning class. The class ended at 10 a.m., so as soon as I left the building, I used my cell phone to call Amanda. 

She answered on the first ring.

"Hi, Amanda, it's Tom Connors."

"Good morning, Tom. I take it you've dropped off your thesis and are between classes now?"

"Yes and no. Yes, I delivered the copies before my class, but it was my first and only class of the day. I wanted to call and see when might be a good time to return the DVD to you, the one you loaned to me the other day."

"Well, if you have it with you, since you're on campus, would you like to come by the lab now and leave it with me? And if you've got time, maybe we could discuss it for just a few minutes. I've got a little time between appointments."

"That would be perfect, Amanda. Thank you. I can be there in about fifteen minutes."

"Just come tell the receptionist to let me know you've arrived."

"All right. See you soon."

The fifteen minute walk was invigorating in the early fall weather and with the fall colors.

I told the receptionist my name, and she called Amanda on the intercom. Then she pointed at Amanda's office door and told me I could go right in without knocking. When I walked in, Amanda arose and walked from behind her desk to greet me with a smile and handshake. She closed the door behind me and gestured for me to be seated across the desk from her.

I sat, then handed her the DVD.

"What did you think of it?" she asked rather professionally.

"Well, it was somewhat erotic, but frankly Amanda, I barely got a hard-on watching it. I mean, it was clear that you and Marta were very highly aroused. You both looked like you orgasmed, after all. But it really didn't do that much for me."

I somewhat expected Amanda to show surprise or disappointment or even disapproval of my comments. She didn't. Instead, she nodded and smiled.

"Before loaning the DVD to you, Tom, I made sure that Marta wouldn't object. And with Marta's approval, I also talked with Lorraine about whether even showing it to you would be a good idea. Both agreed that it wouldn't do any harm, but Lorraine said she doubted it would have much of an arousing effect on you. In fact, Lorraine and I talked with Marta as well, and she came to the same conclusion as Lorraine. Turns out they were right, weren't they?"

"Why did they think I wouldn't become aroused?" I asked with genuine interest.

"Well, partly it was because Marta and I were fully clothed and weren't really touching each other with our hands in overtly sexual places. In the detached, two-dimension world of video, you really couldn't empathize with us, you couldn't feel with our intensity what we were experiencing.

Marta reminded us that shifuku evolved over centuries because Japanese women were not really permitted to enjoy sexual fulfillment. Essentially, they had to engage in relatively benign touching such as kissing and hugging. Consequently, they literally trained their minds to intensify the pleasure of those benign acts. They trained their minds to orgasm in the presence of stimuli that in today's cultures would hardly even mildly arouse a woman. Or a man. They learned to internally experience the pleasures of orgasm while outwardly showing few signs of it.

Before Marta and I made the DVD, she had been training me in shifuku for about a year. Consequently, my mind was already on its way to an orgasm before she even touched me. Early in the DVD you saw Marta massaging my face, then kissing and biting my neck and ears, and finally kissing then very deep-kissing me with increasing intensity. She was pushing me to the edge of orgasm just as steadily and surely as if she had been licking my clit and fingering me or if we had been tribbing. She focused my mind on shifuku and only shifuku as if it were all other forms of sexual stimulation combined. I quite literally did not feel the rest of her body touching me even when she was straddling me. She totally focused my sexuality, my brain, on her tongue, lips, bites, and sounds.

Marta theorized, and Lorraine agreed completely, that shifuku may have been an early precursor of your remarkable 'gift'. What's really interesting about that, Tom, is that Marta and I practice shifuku with each other fairly regularly, and we both become intensely aroused, nearly always to orgasm. She and I haven't done it, though, since you and I had sex here in the lab. We are both eager to see what influence my having sex with you will have on my ability to cum during shifuku with Marta. We're curious to see if your 'gift' has pushed me beyond the reach of shifuku or, conversely, if you may have intensified its effect.

Marta, Lorraine, and I agree that your 'gift' may be some kind of neuro-sexual evolution beyond the shifuku practiced among women long ago in Japan. Or to put it another way, shifuku may be some primitive form of your 'gift'. We just don't know."

"So my not getting a hard-on while I was watching you and Marta wasn't exactly unexpected?"

"That's right, Tom. But there's even more to the story. Before having sex with you, you'll recall Kim had been unable to orgasm for about twenty years. As part of Lorraine's therapy to try and help her, Marta agreed to try and use shifuku to bring Kim to orgasm. She thoroughly and patiently initiated Kim into the practices of shifuku. Once Kim was fully involved, Marta tried several times to bring her to orgasm. Indeed, both Kim and Marta became fully aroused each time, and Marta did cum each time. Unfortunately, Kim didn't, though she found the shifuku to be intensely sexually arousing and satisfying. As you know, it was you and your 'gift' that finally brought Kim to orgasm. 

And that raises yet another question: Since Kim is able to orgasm consistently and regularly now, if she and Marta or she and I were to engage in shifuku, would Kim orgasm? For that matter, would we even be able to restrict their movements to traditional shifuku? Would we even want to? After all, it is now quite acceptable for women to engage in sexual relations with other women, even in Japan. The powerful social constraints that necessitated the evolution of shifuku have been lifted.

There is a third question that we're asking, too. If you and Marta were to have sexual relations after foreplay that included shifuku, would the probably inevitable orgasms you both would experience be intensified by combining her shifuku skills with your 'gift'? Or might they effectively cancel each other out and diminish your sexual fulfillment? Again, we just don't know."

"Well, when I met with Marta at her office, I was really attracted to her. But it seemed to me like she was all business with no physical attraction for me at all," I responded candidly.

Amanda shook her head and laughed gently. "Tom, nothing could be further from the truth. Marta felt an intensely strong physical attraction for you. She has the disciplined mind required of both an attorney and a shifuku practitioner. She was quite literally able to completely subordinate her exceedingly intense sexual attraction for you. During your meeting with her, she was able to put fucking you completely out of her mind. 

So from what you've said, Tom, I wonder if you would be agreeable to trying a laboratory session here or at Lorraine's to answer my third question?"

As I thought about it, my erection sprang to life, and I rather-self consciously looked down at my tented slacks. Amanda's gaze followed mine.

"Yes, I think you'd be agreeable," she answered for me. "If you wouldn't object, Tom, I'd like to discuss this possibility with Marta."

I thought about my Saturday plans with Sharon and my "meeting" the following Thursday with Kim. While I was already excited at the prospect of having sex with Marta, I wanted to be sure that I would be up to the task.

"Yes, please go ahead and talk with Marta. But could we please not schedule anything for about ten days or more? The rest of this week and all of next week are going to be very busy," I asked.

"Certainly, Tom. I'm sure that if she's agreeable, Marta will appreciate the extra time to prepare, too."

Amanda and I talked for a few more minutes about Jamie's prosthetic phallus project. Then her intercom line rang, and her receptionist announced that her next appointment had arrived. 

I left and walked back to my apartment, picked up my swimsuit, and drove to the university pool. Though the morning's meeting with my principal thesis adviser had been nothing more than dropping off the copies of my thesis revisions, I felt fairly uptight. A few laps at the pool, then home to a light dinner and early to bed.

My Friday classes were uneventful -- probably a good thing since my mind was already on my Saturday dinner date with Sharon Madison. There was little doubt in my mind that our date would end in bed. Still, she was my mother's age, and she had one son my age and one son a year older. Not to mention a husband.

I slept late Saturday morning, then noodled around for a couple hours on the computer. The one thing I didn't want to do was try and think about my thesis. I went to my closet and got out my one suit, a pale blue dress shirt, and an appropriate necktie. Then I lay down to rest for awhile. An hour or so later, I arose and showered, shaved, and got dressed. 

The drive to Harper took about half an hour, then another twenty minutes to get to estate's address she had provided. It was on the edge of town, secluded, and on a hill overlooking the city. It was one of those places that if you didn't already know where it was, you probably wouldn't ever go there. 

Sharon had given perfect directions, and I pulled up to the gate at exactly 6:25 p.m. The guard checked his list, then motioned for me to proceed to the parking lot. I locked the car and walked maybe one hundred feet to the front door. When I stepped inside, I was mildly surprised to see that it really was an estate home. There was no registration desk, only the concierge desk staffed by an attractive and fit-looking young woman. Her presence and bearing suggested that her concierge duties might include security as well. 

Just as I was about to give her my name, the nearby elevator doors opened noiselessly, and Sharon stepped out. She was wearing an just-above-the-knee black spaghetti strap cocktail dress with a v-neck that extended way south of the border. Though she's only about five-foot-three inches, her heels made her look taller in addition to shaping her killer legs. The v-neck allowed her to show off her really spectacular, natural breasts. And the spaghetti straps let everyone see her exquisite shoulders, back and arms. For a 40-something woman with a still great figure and trying to get the look of evening elegance with a touch of slutty, the dress was perfect. In fact, it was breathtaking. And cock-hardening. I was already aching to pull it up over her head and cast it aside.

"Tom, I'm so glad you made it. Thank you for coming," she said as she gave me a more-than-friendly hug. 

"You look wonderful, Sharon. Thank you for inviting me," I responded sincerely.

She took my arm and held me particularly close while guiding me toward a hallway. Once discreetly out of hearing of the concierge, she said, "Tom, I must tell you a few of the rules of our group. We only address each other by our first names; we never use our last names. It is very unlikely that you will recognize anyone here or that anyone will recognize you, but if either should happen, you should not express that recognition. Finally, this evening's activities remain very personal and private and are not discussed outside."

"Sort of 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,'" I said. 

She paused briefly, looked at me and smiled, and said, "Exactly, Tom. And by the way, thank you for wearing a suit. It's perfect. You're very handsome in it."

"I doubt anyone will notice me," I responded. "All any man or woman is going to notice is you in that dress."

"I'm hoping you will notice me out of it as well," she answered with blatant wickedness. As she said it, she glanced around and seeing no one watching us, she placed her hand on my hardness and gave a suggestive squeeze. 

And with that she led me into a room set up with individual tables for two for dinner. About 20 couples were mingling and conversing amiably. Sharon took me around and introduced me. The conversations were mostly small talk, non-controversial, and rather impersonal. 

I immediately noticed something rather remarkable. Among all the couples present, one of the people was always noticeably older than the other. In some cases the man was younger than the woman, and in other instances the woman was younger. Some of the couples were just men, others just women. I had also noticed that while the men were in rather conservative business suits, the women were dressed more suggestively, alluringly. When Sharon and I were able to speak out of hearing range of the others present, I commented on that. 

"The people who formed this group, Tom, are those who prefer to 'socialize' with people either much younger or much older. Though most of our founding members are over 40 and prefer much younger guests for the evening, a few are under 25 and are attracted to older guests. It can be difficult for people, regardless of their age, to -- let's be blunt about it -- hook up with a partner either much older or much younger. 

For example, that woman over there is only 20." She pointed to a very young woman, an attractive poised brunette. "She is on our informal board of directors. Her guest tonight is a gentleman in his 50's. If they are seen together in public, some catty women and jealous men will conclude she's just a gold-digger or some airhead opening her legs to land a rich husband. But the fact is, it is she who prefers the company of older men. She chooses her partners not just because they pleasure her very well in bed but because they are excellent company in public or in private.

Our members are straight, bisexual, gay, or lesbian. We really don't care about anyone's particular sexual orientation. We have only two rules about invited guests. First, each guest must be above the age of consent in this state. And second, each of our members is responsible for vetting his or her guest to ensure the continued privacy of all members and guests. It is to the credit of our members and their guests that we've never had to expel a member for violating our rules. That's because we recognize the value of our informal organization to each other."

After about 20 minutes had passed, a four-note chime sounded and a gentleman announced that dinner would be served in 10 minutes. Sharon guided me to our table. 

The room layout was interesting, because while it was warm and inviting, each table seated only two people. Although it was possible for Sharon and me to talk easily, and while we could hear the general sounds of the other conversations, we could not make out what any of the other couples were saying. Privacy between couples in a room full of people. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 05



Sharon and I talked briefly but were soon approached by a waiter. He brought our dinner plates. Fish for both of us.

"Good evening, Michael," she said to him. "Tom, what would you like to drink?" 

"Ginger ale, please," I answered.

"And for me also," Sharon joined in.

"Of course. Thank you, Sharon," the waiter responded courteously.

The portions were just the right size, and the taste and presentation were excellent. I was truly impressed. 

Our conversation early during the meal was fairly casual, really catching up on what was happening and with whom in my home town. 

Sharon said her husband Leonard was "up to his ass" as she put it, in his construction business and rarely had time for anything else. I sensed that might have included her.

She mentioned that her youngest son Ted, the one who had graduated with me from high school, had gone on to graduate from The Wharton School and had returned to our home town to start his own business. When Sharon said Ted had married while in college, her vocal tone suggested displeasure with his marital choice and timing. However she did seem pleased that Ted was doing exceptionally well in his business and had become very active in community affairs.

She went on to say that her older son Cody had gone to San Francisco, graduated from UC Berkley, and lived in San Francisco. He rarely returned home even to visit. I sensed something was amiss, a change in her voice, so for some reason I began asking questions about Cody. Finally Sharon explained that Cody was now Corinne. Apparently since puberty Cody (now Corinne) had been unsure of his gender identity. More accurately, he had been sure of it but unsure how to best deal with it and eventually disclose it. What seemed to trouble Sharon most was not Cody's gender assignment. Rather, it was that her husband Leonard had totally rejected Cody as Corinne. Having begun to discuss Corinne and apparently realizing that I was not at all uncomfortable about talking about Corinne's trans-sexuality, Sharon asked if I had ever had an experience with a transsexual woman.

She was genuinely surprised and then quite interested when I gave her a detailed explanation of my meeting and becoming friends with Stephanie. Sharon undoubtedly expected that with my conservative, small-town upbringing I would be repulsed by the thought of kissing a transsexual woman. We talked about it for several minutes, and she became even more relaxed. 

"So, Tom, when you and Stephanie were kissing and making out in the parking lot to put on a show for your fraternity brothers, didn't you even wonder what it would be like to go all the way with her? I mean, you finally felt Stephanie's cock under her skirt, and I'm sure she was grabbing yours too, wasn't she? Didn't that turn you on even a little bit?"

I paused for just a moment before answering, but I was thinking about Jamie, not about Stephanie.

"Well, yeah. I suppose there was something about it that did."

"Tell me something, Tom. Did you and Teddy ever make out or masturbate each other?"

Her question caught me completely off guard.

"No. What would make you think we might have?"

"Well, Teddy's very well hung, and from what I saw at the lake place and judging from the picture of you in the swimsuit you emailed to me, so are you. It would have been perfectly natural for you to do it, you know? Boys in puberty do sometimes openly compare their manhood. Sometimes they even experiment sexually with each other."

"Nope. Didn't happen. C'mon, Sharon. Why are you asking me about that?"

"Tom, I've told you about Cody -- Corinne. Well, Teddy's bisexual. I suspected that he and Cody experimented sexually with each other as boys. And since you and Teddy spent so much time together..."

"No, Sharon, I was never sexually attracted to either Ted or Cody. And frankly, I never saw any signs that either of them were sexually attracted to me." 

I was telling her the truth, though she may have doubted it. But, since Sharon had started the conversation about her sons' and my sexuality, I decided to play along to see where it might lead.

"So tell me something, Sharon. Did you ever masturbate Ted?"

I was expecting her to be embarrassed or shocked, maybe even offended, but she responded rather matter-of-factly.

"Yes, Tom, I did. It was rather natural, you know. I knew Teddy and Cody were not only masturbating each other, I actually spied on them kissing and rubbing a few times. I must admit to being turned on watching my two sons sexually pleasure to each other. It was beautifully arousing.

So in Teddy's last year of high school, Cody had already gone off to college, I intentionally walked in on Teddy one morning when he was jerking off. I had expected him to cover himself up, but much to my surprise, he didn't. He just kept stroking that gorgeous cock of his. You see, Tom, he and Cody knew I had been watching them. He told me that they both got off knowing I was watching them. 

I asked him if I could finish him off by stroking him. He just took his hands away, left his cock bobbing straight up in the air, and smiled at me. 

I sat down beside him and started gently, then more firmly, jacking him off. I had secretly hoped he might decide to feel and finger me, but he didn't. Still, I almost orgasmed when his jizz stream shot out."

Her candid admission, which I presumed was truthful, caught me completely by surprise. When she spoke again, Sharon had a gleam in her eye. 

"You know, Tom, your mother is concerned you may be gay. She says you never bring any girlfriends home, in fact you never even talk about dating much. I think she was hoping you and Linda Johnson might eventually get married. Your mother believed that Linda was a very wholesome girl, being a preacher's kid and all."

"Linda and I dated a few times, but I think she already had a pretty steady boyfriend already in college." 

I hoped Sharon wouldn't pursue that line of conversation, but somehow I expected what was coming.

"So...did you ever fuck Linda?" 

Sharon's using the word "fuck" told me she was hoping for a rather salacious rather than serious answer. 

"No, I wanted to and I'm pretty sure she really did, too, but since she was a PK, she gave me the old line that she was 'saving herself for her husband'. We both knew that was BS, but I respected her wishes. She was a great kisser, and somehow she considered giving me great hand jobs and my finger-fucking her until she screamed for me to stop to be different from fucking. More than one time we had to stop at the laundromat on our way home from a date and quick-wash the car blanket to get my cum out of it. But like I said, we never fucked. I think we both were completely satisfied with making each other cum in the car."

"You were right, Tom. She did marry her college boyfriend. But now she's back in town. They're divorced, and she's teaching middle school now. Maybe you ought to look her up when you go home next time. A little birdy told me she might still have the hots for you."

"Maybe, but I'm pretty focused on my grad studies, and I'm not really interested in getting married."

"Oh, I'm not talking about marrying her, Tom," Sharon responded. "Then again, you prefer women rather much older than you, don't you?" 

There was a certainty in her voice that told me no more really needed to be said to defend my manhood.

I looked straight into her eyes. "Yes, I most certainly do," I answered emphatically. "Sexual maturity is a powerful aphrodisiac for me."

"Mmm. I'm very happy to hear that, Tom. Very happy."

We had just finished coffee when the same gentleman who had announced dinner made another announcement: "Ladies and gentlemen, may I suggest we retire for the evening's program?"

I looked at Sharon, hoping for some explanation but instead received a rather enigmatic smile. We arose from our table, and she once again took me by the arm to guide me to wherever we were headed.

I assumed we would be going to possibly a small auditorium or small theater or hall, some formal entertainment venue, but instead she led me out of the dining room and down a long hallway with beautiful floor and wall coverings and artwork. This was light years above the local Motel Six. 

Midway down the hallway she stopped us in front of an ornate wooden door. She opened it and escorted me in, then closed the door behind. Rather than being an entertainment venue, it was an inordinately plain-looking room. Some jail cells have more furnishings. There was no television or telephone or radio. Aside from a queen-sized bed with a nightstand each side of the headboard and a lamp on each nightstand, there was no other furniture whatsoever in the room. Both lamps were on. Where there would usually have been a combination desk - tea table - drawer storage - television stand unit, there was nothing. In fact, the entire wall just a short distance from the foot of the bed was completely draped. No mirror, no lamp, no pictures. Just a closed drape. And the foot of the queen-size bed was only about two feet from the closed drape. 

"Tom, why don't you take off your coat and hang it there," she pointed to the closet by the entry door. While speaking, she walked to one of the nightstands, opened the drawer, and took out something resembling a television remote control. She set it on the nightstand by the lamp. 

"Won't we be joining the others to watch the evening's entertainment?" I said with clearly exaggerated surprise as I removed my jacket, then walked back to join her standing to one side of the bed.

"Oh, we most certainly will, Tom. It will start in a few minutes after everyone has had a chance to get to their rooms. In the meantime..."

She leaned toward me and pulled my face toward hers and kissed me softly, then a bit more aggressively. I responded in kind and was becoming more and more aroused. I encircled her with my arms and delighted at the feel of the bare skin on her shoulders and back. The tip of her tongue parting my lips and her sounds told me she, too, was eager to go further. While still kissing me, she deftly removed my tie and unbuttoned my shirt. I felt her warm, soft hands slip inside the shirt and begin caressing and lightly scratching my skin.

Then, apparently from audio speakers in the ceiling and walls, a baritone voice announced that the program would begin shortly. 

Sharon pushed with her hands on my chest and very gently backed away from me. Her movement caused us to step to one side so we were no longer between the foot of the bed and the glass wall. 

She walked two or three steps to the nightstand and picked up the remote control, pushing one of the buttons as she did. While she was operating the control, I removed my shirt and tossed it aside. The lights in our room dimmed rather quickly to blackout. Simultaneously, a rather quiet motor moved the bed in our room so its foot was almost touching the glass. Once so positioned, the head of the bed tilted slightly. Then, a second or two before our room lights extinguished, the motorized curtain draping the wall near the foot of the bed began to open. From our room, we could now look through a wall-to-ceiling seamless glass window into an odd-looking room. 

That glass-enclosed room was only about twelve feet across, and it appeared to have six walls, all glass. One of the walls had a simple door. There was a king-size bed in the middle of the room. With walls of glass, the room we and undoubtedly other guests could see from the privacy of our rooms more resembled an interior arena rather than a motel room. The arena room was lit and arranged to let us clearly see anything that might go on in it. There was no one in the room.

Sharon's voice caused me to turn to her and away from the glass.

"Tom, I suggest we get comfortable before the presentation begins."

She positioned herself between me and the glass with her back to me so we were both facing the glass. I put my arms around her waist and drew her closer to me. She backed up firmly against me, and then her right hand began gently kneading my balls and cock through my trousers. I kissed and nuzzled her neck and soft shoulders. 

Moments later, a very tall woman, probably just under six feet tall, and smaller man about five-feet-five walked into the room. I was so intent on arousing Sharon that I really hadn't paid much attention to them.

"Do you recognize them, Tom?" 

Her question caused me to look more closely, and when I did, I was taken totally by surprise.

"That's your son Ted," I exclaimed. "And the woman is Mrs. Weldon, the high school math and girl's gym teacher." 

"Oh, don't be so formal, Tom. Teddy told me that you and all the other boys used to refer to her as 'missile tits' in high school, didn't you?"

"Are they here? Together?" I asked in surprise. It was a stupid question. Obviously they were just a few feet away from us on the other side of the glass wall. Sharon seemed somewhat pleased at my genuine shock.

"Just watch." 

I did as the two of them began kissing, fondling, and undressing each other. Sharon anticipated my question. Never taking her eyes off them, she said, "They've been fucking since Ted was a senior in high school, Tom."

"And you approve?" I blurted.

"Approve?" she responded with a laugh. "Darling, I encouraged her to seduce him. I sold Marlene -- Mrs. Weldon -- and her husband their house when they moved to town. She was hired to be the high school math and girl's phys-ed teacher. She and I became exceptionally close friends, Tom. You might say 'bosom buddies'. Your nickname for her was quite apropos. Her boobs are fabulous. Very sensitive nipples.

Anyway, one day after school Marlene was working on some equipment in the field house. She saw Teddy and his girl friend making out under the ball field bleachers just a few feet from her. They didn't see her, though. They weren't fucking, but Diane -- his girlfriend at the time -- was giving him an energetic hand job."

"So Mrs. Weldon stopped them?" I interrupted.

"Oh, no, Tom. She told me later that in spite of Teddy's short height, she was quite impressed with his other physical attributes and his rather surprising sexual skills. So Marlene frigged herself off watching them. Still, she was concerned that Ted might do something stupid and eventually fuck the little slut without a condom, so Marlene called me. She and I met and discussed it, and I suggested that perhaps a more mature woman might discourage Ted from fucking Diane while at the same time satisfying his sexual needs. Marlene was instantly agreeable to what I was suggesting, but she was concerned about her teaching career. I assured her that since I was chairman of the school board at the time, nothing would ever happen to her. Marlene readily agreed to seduce Ted and fuck him."

"What about her husband?"

"What about him?" she asked indifferently. "He's gone most of the time. She has needs, too, you know, and she's pretty sure he's getting taken care of on the road. 

I have to admit that I assumed Marlene would keep Teddy satisfied through his senior year in high school, but I hadn't counted on them continuing to fuck even after Ted got married. Not that I really care. His wife has the sexual appetite of an avocado. 

It turns out that my bisexual son is remarkably adept in bed with women. Marlene's clit is rather obvious. It resembles a tiny penis, and Teddy's lips and tongue seemed to be a perfect fit for it. She also told me he fucks like a stallion and is not the least bit intimidated by her being much taller than him. In fact, she thinks he actually gets off on that. And so does she."

"Can they see us?" I asked.

"Not now, but they could if we wanted them to. All I'd have to do is turn up the lights in our room a little."

"Does Ted know you're here with me?" 

"Oh, Teddy knows I'm here watching him and Marlene, but he doesn't know who's with me. Not that he would care if he saw you. Actually, they might even get turned on more if he and Marlene saw you fucking his mother. You probably didn't realize it, but after Marlene had been fucking Teddy for a while, she confided in me that she'd really like to feel you on top of her, too."

I decided to let that pass.

"And they're the evening entertainment for your group?" I asked.

"Yes, neither one are members, and they're being well-paid to do what they probably would have been doing somewhere else anyway. It's fortunate for them and us that they both lean a bit toward exhibitionism."

The action in the glass room was heating up. Sharon was clearly getting more and more excited herself, but I couldn't tell if her excitement was from seeing her son fucking her own bisexual lover or seeing him fucking and wishing it was her rather than one of his former teachers. I decided to find out because, frankly, my cock was about read to rip the crotch out of my suit pants.

"Sharon?" I said.

"What?" she responded, never taking her eyes off the screen. Her youngest son had his face buried in his former high school teacher's pussy, and was making her scream and writhe in intense sexual pleasure.

I slid my hands around Sharon's waist to her back and began unzipping the short zipper on her dress. Then I whispered, "Do you and Ted fuck each other regularly?" 

Her body stiffened briefly, then relaxed as she turned her face to mine.

"You're very perceptive, Tom. Does that bother you?"

"No, not at all. You're both adults." I decided to play along. 

She smiled as she returned her gaze to the action in the glass-surrounded room. Now her voice was becoming drier, somewhat hoarse with desire.

"My fucking Teddy turns you on, doesn't it, Tom? No, we don't do it regularly. But there are a few times a year when we both seem to need it at the same time."

"Like you're sexually synchronized?" I asked.

"I had never thought of it that way, Tom, but yes. That's exactly it. Sexually synchronized. Very well put."

Then, as she continued to watch her son, I moved my hands to her hips, then began to pull the short cocktail dress up. When my fingers had bunched the dress so I could touch her skin, I put my hands on her bare legs. I kept my hands touching her skin while I slid the loosened dress upward over her hips. When she felt my hands on her waist, and still never taking her eyes off her son and his former teacher in the next room, she raised her arms straight up over her head. Running my hands up her rib cage and noticing no bra, I pulled the dress up over her outstretched arms and let it fall to the floor. I clasped her wrists gently, then began to slowly drag my hands down her arms to her armpits. She bent her arms and clasped her hands behind her head, all the while still focusing on her son and his partner just feet away. Sharon's breathing was quickening, no doubt from the arousing scene there and the touch of my eager hands.

Her breasts, rather large but very firm with pointy nipples, jutted toward the screen. I cupped them with my hands.

"Oh, Teddy," she murmured subconsciously. Almost immediately, I felt her tense up, perhaps fearful that she had broken our sexual reverie. I felt rather than saw her apprehension. She need not have been concerned.

"It's all right, Sharon. Tonight, I am whoever you want me to be," I said honestly as I turned her and pulled her hard against me, kissing her intensely to divert any further discussion. While we kissed, her hands fumbled to loosen my trousers, unbuckled them, and let them drop around my ankles. Somehow I kicked off my shoes, leaving me wearing only my dark blue bikini brief and socks. My cock head on my full erection was rocketing out above the brief's waistband.

We continued kissing and fondling. She wore no bra or brief. Her bare breasts ground against my chest, and her tongue attacked mine with sexual violence. I felt her fingernails digging into my back. I reached behind her and put both my hands on her bare ass, grabbing each cheek firmly, and pulling her even tighter against me. I could feel her full pussy hair against my bare legs. She ground her abdomen against my cock, now protected only by my brief. Somehow, she reached down and pulled my brief down to my ankles, then immediately stood back up. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 05



I stepped out of the rumpled brief and stared into her face. Her eyes were wild. 

"Punish me, Tom. Spank me for fucking Teddy!" she gasped.

I sat on the edge of the slightly tilted bed and turned Sharon a quarter turn, then lowered her crossways across my lap as I sat. She was facing the glass wall and could still see her son fucking his lover and former high school teacher. Then I began spanking her ass cheeks. 

"Yes! Yes, Tom! Hurt me. I want to fuck my boy. Hurt me. Make me want to fuck you! Make my ass burn red for you!" Her eyes remained locked on her son and Mrs. Weldon, now both sexually pummeling each other.

My right hand alternated spanking her left and right buns while my left hand reached under and clasped a breast. I pinched a nipple, hard, between my thumb and index finger while continuing to punish her ass. She writhed in painful, lustful desire. My hard, erect cock rested on her rib cage, and she reached for it with her left hand. I stopped spanking her long enough to use my right hand to slap hers away, then I returned to spanking her. 

"Hurt me, baby!" she screamed. I obliged, each smack of my hand against her ass and the back of her thighs eliciting a sex-drenched cry. Then, while she sobbed with desire, I felt her thick, black pussy hair, drenched with her own lubrication, against my thighs. 

Her eyes were still riveted to the screen. Her son was poised rather gracefully above the muscular amazon gym teacher, his noticeably large cock out, waiting to plunge yet again into her. Marlene Weldon screamed when Teddy's cockhead paused at her outer lips, just touching them, and then when he thrust it into her. Sharon screamed at the same time, perhaps vicariously feeling her son's manhood as if it were entering her rather that his teacher-lover. 

With Sharon's cry, I stopped spanking her and began running my hand gently over her ass and the back of her legs while her son intensified the speed and strength of his fuck strokes into his high school teacher. Now they were both bucking against each other, both nearing orgasm. Sharon was transfixed on her son's sexual aggression toward her own bisexual lover. Marlene and Teddy came together with a prolonged cry, her muscular legs engulfing him, his large cock continuing to pound her while she thrust upward lifting them both off the bed. 

Sensing the on-screen entertainment had ended, at least for the moment, I lifted Sharon off me and placed her on her back on the bed, then pulled her legs open. For some unexplainable reason, I smacked her exposed pussy lips once with my hands, not too hard, but hard enough to take her by surprise. Her eyes opened wide, and she cried out, "Yes, baby! Spank my pussy! Spank it! Get it ready for baby's big cock! Make it wet and hot and red!"

I didn't really want to hurt her so I didn't hit her pussy as hard as I had her ass. 

"What the fuck are you doing! Hit it harder!" she screamed.

I intensified both the force and the frequency of my open hand slaps. 

"Yeah! That's it! That's it! Oh, baby, keep going! I'm almost there ... almost there ... almost ... oh, god, fuck me Teddy! Drive that man-meat into me. Make your mommy cum!"

Her cunt lips were swollen and open wide, her inner woman pulsating slowly in her first stages of orgasm. Their bright reddish-pink, wet, contrasted with her now-matted black pussy hair. 

My cock was dark red, bobbing, hot. I put my cock tip at her opening.

"Don't tease me, Teddy! Make me cum like you do your whore teacher!"

Sharon's lust had completely overtaken her inhibitions, and she had totally succumbed to the incestuous desire to fuck her son Ted. I was sure that when she looked at me, she saw him, but I didn't care.

I slid my cock slowly part way into her, then pulled it out. A look of desperation crossed her red, sweat-drenched face.

"Finish me, Teddy! Don't you fucking tease me! Finish me! I'm there! I need to cum with you! Make me cum with you, baby!"

I pushed my cock all the way in, slowly, then out slowly, then in and out again and again, slowly. Each thrust and withdrawal pushed her a bit closer. 

"Faster! I'm there! I'm there!" she screamed. I drove my cock in and pulled it out, then again and again, faster and faster. Her face grew even more taut and red, its crimson washing down over her chest to those milky white breasts with the taut pinkish-brown nipples. Her cunt muscles clasped my cock in a death-by-orgasm grip when her orgasm hit. A partial thrust later, and I felt my own cum explode from deep inside me, filling her. I heard a long, loud, low sexual growl of release come from my mouth as I stared into her pinched face, every muscle of my body trying to expel its last drop of jism into her.

With the first wave of my cum, her eyes flew open as her body thrashed, her legs tightening with surprising strength around my abdomen. Her body heaved two or three times against mine with such force that it lifted us both from the bed. Then, her rhythmic heaving turned into one vibrating, full-body orgasm as if some electrical current drove her to rigidity and vibration. It continued for however long it continued. Time meant nothing as our synchronous orgasms fulfilled their destiny and lifespan. 

Finally, our bodies began to relax, our breathing becoming more regular. We lay together on top of the cum-and-sweat-soaked bed spread. Our gasps for breath turned softer, more normal. 

"God, Tom," she said, the reality of where she was and whom she was with returning to her. "I ... never ..." her speech became softer, her eyes fluttered, "... cum ... hard ... before," her voice was a whisper. She fought valiantly to remain conscious and alert, but she was losing the battle. Then she drifted off. I could tell she was fast asleep and would not awaken soon, so I put her under the bed covers. Her face that had only minutes earlier been contorted in sexual pleasure had relaxed to an almost angelic appearance. 

I laid there for a few minutes, then looked at glass. The adjoining room was empty, but its light still spilled into our room. I fumbled for the control on the night stand. I hit the button marked "Close", and the drapes closed darkening our room.

In her invitation to me, Sharon had made it pretty clear that the guests were not expected to spend the night with their host or hostess. I arose, found the restroom, showered, dressed, and went back through the lobby. The concierge barely acknowledged me as I left as if to remind me, "What happened here stays here."

The 45-minute drive home gave me time to reflect. My sex with Sharon Madison had been outside my -- what would it be called -- my therapeutic circle? For the first time I'd been able to have sex with a woman not as part of my therapy. There was no way to know, of course, if I would continue to see her. Perhaps she'd had her fill of me, though somehow I doubted that. I'd learned more than I cared to know about her two sons and husband. 

I'd seen my former high school math teacher, Marlene "Missile Tits" Weldon, fucking my former classmate Ted. I had to admit, I wouldn't have minded fucking her myself. Yet while this was going on fewer than ten feet away on the other side of a glass window, Ted's mother and I were fucking each other while we watched them. Capping off the truly strange evening was Sharon's acknowledgement that she and Ted, mother and son, had sex together when their bodies seemed to be in synch for it. It seemed to me I should have been much more shocked than I was by that revelation. 

And my high school girl friend, Linda Johnson or whatever married name she had taken, was back in my home town and available. I wondered if she ever thought of our sessions together under the blanket in my car. Maybe ...

I parked the car and walked into my apartment. No messages on the phone. I undressed and fell into bed about 4 a.m. then into a deep sleep.

Around noon I got up, flipped on the television to a ball game, and fixed a snack. Everything pointed to a leisurely afternoon. The ball game was a nice distraction, but my mind kept drifting back to the preceding night with Sharon. She had admonished me to not disclose anything we had done or anyone we had seen at the private estate in Harper. She had made it perfectly clear that there should be no outside discussion of the place or the events. After being a participant, I understood why and agreed with it. I certainly didn't want to give her a moment's concern that I might even inadvertently betray her confidence in my discretion.

Still, as I sat watching the game on the television, I had this gentlemanly urge to call her and thank her. That, too, seemed like the right thing to do, even if it conflicted with her admonition. Certainly a personal phone call would be preferable to the more detached but also more discoverable email or written note. After mulling it over for a couple hours, I decided to risk making the call. If necessary, I could apologize and offer the excuse that I was merely trying to carefully do the right thing. 

"Hi, Tom," she answered her cell phone cheerfully. That told me she had put something in her phone's address book that identified me when I called her from my cell phone. A good sign, I thought.

"Hi, Sharon. I hope you don't mind my calling you today." It seemed like a very safe opening.

"No, not at all. In fact I was going to call you to thank you for last night." 

All right! Without going into the evening's details which we both already knew, I proceeded to explain to her my initial concerns about calling to thank her. I also explained why I thought it was both important and proper for me to call her now.

"Oh, Tom, that is so considerate of you. When we talked before dinner last night, I didn't mean to suggest that you and I could not talk personally in private. But thank you for taking what I said to heart. I never had any doubts about your being discreet, and you've certainly justified my confidence in you.

You know, Tom, it was the funniest thing. You are a very energetic young man, and I had expected to be somewhat stiff and sore this morning after the workout you gave me. Yet when I awoke, I actually felt like I did when I was much younger after a night of fucking. I was intensely satisfied. I hope you believe me when I tell you that I've never had a more intense and longer-lasting orgasm in my life. It's pretty clear that your mother's concern about your maybe being gay is totally misplaced," she said with a laugh. "But what did surprise me is that when I woke up this morning, I was also exceedingly horny. That's never happened to me before. While I laid there in bed, I ended up fingering myself to another crashing orgasm."

I wasn't about to tell Sharon about my supposed "gift" that Lorraine and Kim had identified, so I simply thanked her and reminded her that it was her encouragement that had led to a very satisfying evening for both of us. 

"The only regret I have, Tom, is that I didn't 'encourage' you much earlier and more often. After our little miscue at the lake place, if I had known then what I know now, I would have been more -- what would you say -- persistent? But I hope you'll let me make up for that bad judgement on my part. 

The real estate market seems to be leading the country's economic turnaround. I've been eying a struggling real estate business that has an office near the university. I plan on making the owner an offer, one I hope he can't refuse, to buy out his business. That will mean my spending some time there when we're negotiating. If the deal goes through, I'll also have to be there initially to set up our new office and then occasionally to ensure our local agent is properly managing it. I hope we'll be able to get together again on some of my visits."

My cock began to harden with Sharon's suggestion. 

"I think that's a wonderful idea, Sharon." I had hoped to say more, but the call-waiting beeped on my cell phone. "Jamie" appeared in text on the screen.

"Sharon, I've got to answer a call waiting. When you know more about your schedule, why don't you call me?"

She agreed, and after quick good-byes, I clicked over to Jamie's call.

"Hi Jamie. I was just finishing another call. I'm glad you didn't get rolled over to voice mail before I could pick up."

Her voice was cheerful, relaxed. 

"That's all right, Tom. I was just calling to update you on the prosthetic phallus project. Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"Sure, go right ahead."

"Lorraine met with Amanda and me at my lab yesterday morning. We fitted Lorraine with her phallus, version two. She's going to wear it around her house this weekend to identify any discomforts that need correction. 

She's going to make a real effort not to become sexually aroused while wearing it at home. The idea behind that is to see if it can be worn comfortably under her normal clothing without normal movements and clothing uncontrollably generating an erection. She will be making very comprehensive notes of her observations this weekend. Because we really haven't designed and built it to be worn continuously, she will try to wear it for two or three hours at a time, followed by a few hours without it, then followed by another wear session. 

If and when we're able to design and build a version that allows for complete and sanitary urogenital evacuation, then we could shoot for extended wear, probably on the order of five to eight hours."

"Okay," I interjected. "I get all that. When does Lorraine think she will be ready for her first sexual experience with this new version?"

"I was getting to that. Assuming she's able to maintain a flaccid, unaroused state this weekend, she's blocked out both Monday and Tuesday on her schedule. Our plan is to have her at Amanda's lab at 10 a.m. Monday. Lorraine will re-attach the phallus there, then proceed into the same lab you and I experienced. Initially, Lorraine will simply lie on her back on the bed and see if she's able to mentally stimulate herself to an erection. If she isn't or if she just wants a little incentive, then Amanda will introduce some sexual acoustical conditioning into the room. She will start with extremely low conditioning, then increase it as necessary until Lorraine begins to sexually respond. As you and I both know, at some point Lorraine will begin to manually manipulate her phallus. Our hope is that she will be able to masturbate herself to at least one orgasm.

By the way, Tom, everything in that room will be audio and video recorded. Lorraine will be narrating her thoughts and feelings while she's lying there. Assuming she is able to achieve orgasm by jerking herself off, she will continue to lie there and narrate through the aftereffects she might be feeling. Amanda would prefer to not introduce any of the conditioned audio that results in involuntary and unavoidable arousal like you and I experienced. The idea is to make Lorraine's sexual responses as dependent as possible on her own mind and the phallus and as unaffected as possible by external stimuli.

And if she feels the urge, she will stroke herself to erection and possibly one or more orgasms again.

At some point, Lorraine will pretty much feel that she is sexually spent and that no further testing that day would be productive. At that time she will simply end the test, go to the bathroom-dressing room, remove the phallus, clean it, and return it to me.

By that time it will probably be mid- to late Monday afternoon. Since we're not sure how mentally alert Lorraine will be after the physical testing, we're going to give her a copy of the video of the session and then one of us will drive her home. We're hoping she'll be able to drive herself, of course, but we want to be prepared in case she's not. Depending on her condition, she'll have the remainder of Monday afternoon and then Tuesday morning to view the DVD, assemble her notes, and collect her thoughts.

Lorraine, Amanda, and I are hoping you will be able to join us Tuesday afternoon at Amanda's lab to debrief Lorraine about her experiences with the phallus, both when she was at home and then in the lab room."

"Sure, but what about Kim? Will she be there, too?"

"No, and that was at her own suggestion. Remember, next Friday Amanda and I are going to fit Kim with her new phallus. We hope to follow the same procedure as we did with Lorraine. Kim felt her responses during wear testing and lab observation would be more useful if they were completely her own and not subject to any influence from Lorraine's comments."

"Makes sense," I answered. "So you'll call me to let me know what time to be there on Tuesday?"

"Yes, just as soon as I know. But I do have a favor to ask, Tom. I have to put my car in for service on Tuesday. Lorraine will be picking me up on her way to Amanda's lab, but if it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you mind dropping me off at my place after we're finished. If Lorraine's observations suggest any modifications need to be made to Kim's phallus, I want to get going on it as quickly as possible. Would you mind doing that?"

"No, it'll be no problem at all. In fact, if you're hungry afterward, we can stop at the Burger Barn and get something quick."

"Good idea! I'll call you as soon as I know the time on Tuesday." 

We concluded our conversation, and I tried to turn my attention back to the ballgame. The game was nearly over and about as exciting as watching grass grow, and something about Jamie's prosthetic phallus project had been nagging at me. Actually, what was bothering me was that I wasn't able to pinpoint exactly what was troubling me. 

I thought back to the demonstration of the two phalluses in Jamie's lab. My recollection was that everything was right. The sensors, the shapes during flaccidity and erection, the electronic responses, everything seemed right, yet something was wrong or maybe just a little off. 

Only an engineer would look at fucking analytically, and that's what I started to do. Jamie, with my assistance, was trying to develop a prosthetic phallus for men who had lost their penis and scrotum to disease or injury. She had used her own penis and scrotum and mine as models to try and develop the most realistic prosthetic possible. I kept turning those basic facts over and over in my mind, then it finally hit me: Even though Jamie was, by her own characterization, a "freak of nature" because she had been born with a penis and scrotum instead of a clitoris and vagina, she retained the musculoskeletal structure of a woman. Thus, her frame of reference for the insertion and movement of her own penis and the phallus she was designing was a woman's frame of reference -- not a man's. But would that really matter?

To evaluate my theory, I turned to the internet. Well, more specifically to some porn sites on the internet. It was not at all difficult to find several sites with men fucking women in all possible positions. It was no more difficult finding sites showing women fucking women using strap-on dildos. But I wasn't looking to become aroused; I was looking to compare the pelvic movements of the men and women during sex. Now, I fully realize that the sexual acts in porn movies are posed for the cameras and do not necessarily resemble real life. At the same time, though, the basic bodily movements of the man using his own penis or a woman wearing a dildo are pretty consistent. And what I saw strongly suggested that Jamie might be able to make slight design changes in her prosthetic phalluses between ones designed to be worn by a man and the ones to be worn by women. 

I looked at the clock on my cell phone. It read 9:17 p.m. I wanted to share my thoughts with Jamie while they were still fresh in my mind, so I called her, hoping she had not already gone to bed.

"Hi, Tom. Is something wrong?" she asked.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 06



On my way to my first Monday class, I stopped by my assigned graduate student cubicle in Hertz Hall, the main building for the university's electrical engineering program. Each of us in the graduate EE program had one where we could study, receive messages, and store stuff between classes. Maybe the university is preparing us for our cubicle destinies?

My thesis committee chairman had left a sticky note summoning me to his office after my last class of the day. It wasn't particularly unusual or alarming for me to receive such a request, so I assumed he and the other committee members had reviewed my thesis revisions and had some additional revisions they wanted. Jamie had warned me to expect just such a demand from them to further test both my patience and my commitment to my graduate research.

The meeting with my chairman lasted only about five minutes and when it ended, I left walking on air. Rather than imposing more unreasonable requirements on me, the chairman greeted me warmly, and he effusively complimented me on the quality of my under-the-gun responses. He said the committee was extremely impressed that I had been able to recognize the limits imposed by time constraints and that I had explained what I would have done if there had been sufficient time. He then urged me once again to strongly consider applying for the doctorate program and for associated grants to help fund my research into nanotechnology sensors. He correctly read the "waiting for the other shoe to drop" look on my face, and he assured me that he and the other members of my committee considered me to be one of the most promising double-E grad students they'd had in their careers at the university.

Jamie had said she would call as soon as she had a time for our Tuesday meeting with Lorraine and Amanda to discuss Lorraine's three days' experience with Jamie's improved prosthetic phallus. However, I didn't want to wait share my good news with her and thank her for her wise guidance in preparing my response to my thesis committee's unreasonable requests. 

My call to her went to voicemail, not particularly unusual. A few minutes later, she called me back. Her voice was rather flat and without its usual upbeat brightness.

"Jamie, is something wrong?" I asked.

"Oh, it's just my annual summer's-almost-over cold. I've had them regular as clockwork ever since junior high," she responded. "I felt it coming on just after I got back to the lab after Lorraine's tests. I'll be miserable and contagious for the next three or four days, so I'm going to have to miss your debrief meeting with Lorraine tomorrow. Fortunately, she was able to provide Amanda and me with a lot of detail about her first impressions of the version 2 phallus. I'm assuming that's why you called -- to find out about tomorrow's meeting?"

I explained I had called to share the outcome of my thesis committee meeting, and then I proceeded to give her a very abbreviated account of the meeting.

Her voice perked up a bit, though it still had that congested "I habba cohd" sound to it. 

"I'm glad I could encourage you, Tom, but it was your effort that they appreciated. Still, it was very thoughtful of you to call me. I wish we could get together tomorrow and celebrate, but..."

"Yeah, I know. We'll put it off until you feel better. Are you still planning on repeating the version 2 phallus test with Kim on Friday?"

"We'll see how I feel on Thursday. I'd rather put if off for a few days if necessary to avoid infecting her or Amanda."

"I understand, and I'm sure Kim will, too," I said.

"Actually Tom, after the meeting today Amanda was lukewarm about tomorrow's meeting with Lorraine, too. She feels like she got all the information Lorraine had for her. Lorraine was remarkably observant and was able to recount a great deal of information in amazing detail. 

Lorraine asked Amanda and me a question that will require some further research, but I'm sure Amanda hasn't had time to do it yet. Neither have I. She may ask you, too.

So why don't you give Amanda a call? If she plans on skipping it tomorrow, you and Lorraine could probably work out a mutually convenient time and place to meet."

"Is there anything in particular that you want me to bring up since you're not going to be there?"

"No, I really wrung the information out of Lorraine after today's test. Between having two close-together orgasms while at the same time trying to remember the stuff she knew we would want to know about the phallus' performance, she was mentally and emotionally drained after the meeting. I just hope I didn't push her too hard. But I'm sure that if there's anything new, you'll let me know."

We talked for just a few more minutes, then I called Amanda. She concurred that it would not really be necessary for her to meet again with Lorraine unless Lorraine had thought of something else. My next call was to Lorraine.

"Hi, Lorraine. It's Tom Connors," I said when she answered her phone.

"Tom, hi. I talked with Jamie earlier. She's under the weather. Do you still want to meet with Amanda and me tomorrow?" She sounded noticeably weary, almost as if she was hoping I'd say "No."

"If you're up to it, sure, but I just talked with Amanda, and she didn't really feel as if she needs to be there either."

"Oh, okay. So would it just be you and me, then?" Her voice picked up, taking on what sounded to me like an almost hopeful tone.

"Looks like. But look, Lorraine, Jamie and Amanda both told me that yesterday had been really demanding for you. If you'd rather just relax, I probably shouldn't come over. I don't want you to feel any pressure."

"That's very kind of you, Tom, but actually I think spending some time with you would be helpful. Now that I've had a chance to reflect on my experience with the phallus yesterday, I'm seeing some interesting associations with your 'gift' as well."

"Really?" I asked. She had piqued my curiosity. How could my ability to facilitate near coma-inducing orgasms have any connection with Jamie's prosthetic phallus project? "Well, if you're sure you're up to it..."

"Oh, I'm up for it all right. Why don't we meet at my office since it's just going to be the two of us? How about three?" No doubt about it now. Hopeful and noticeably relieved. 

"Three's good. I'll go by the pool and get a swim in first. I talked with Jamie and Amanda, but they didn't fill me in at all, so..."

"That's no problem, Tom. I'll have the DVD of the session if you want to see it, and I'll do my best to bring you up to speed. I left the phallus with Jamie yesterday. I don't think we'll need it, but if you disagree, you might pick it up from her."

"No, I don't see any need to bother her for it."

"Oh, good," she said with obvious and unmistakable relief. "Incidentally, Tom, the weather report says it's supposed to be hot and humid tomorrow. Dress comfortably." Lorraine's voice had taken on an intriguing quality. The professional, arms length psychologist edge was gone, replaced with a suggestive quality that was giving me a hard-on.

When I arose the next morning, I quickly realized that Lorraine had been right about the weather. It would be perfect shorts weather. Although we were in early fall, the weather was still warm and unseasonably humid. I'd worn shorts to my one Tuesday class before, so I picked a pair of loose-fitting cargo shorts and a light cotton tee shirt. 

After the class concluded, I headed to the university pool. The combination of cool water and workout invigorated me. I showered afterwards to get rid of the lingering chlorine smell, then went directly from the dressing room to Lorraine's.

In all of our earlier meetings, Lorraine had met greeted me dressed very businesslike, very professional, usually in perfectly tailored and crisply pressed slacks and a conservative blouse. Not today. She was wearing fashionable summer platform sandal shoes and a white semi-sheer pool cover that ended well and generously above the knee. It was just sheer and clingy enough that it gave hope of seeing what it concealed, but it was also just diffused enough to make sure I couldn't. It was the kind of outfit a 20-year old college coed would wear to entice a 23-year old graduate student, but it was on a 50-year old Lorraine. With her slender but not skinny frame, she looked every bit as good in it as any coed ever could. She had a slight but uniform tan that really made the white cover complement the bare skin of her shoulders, back, and legs. Her very shapely but unshaven legs only added to the sexual mystique.

After allowing me a few seconds to shamelessly try and see through the semi-sheer cover, she invited me in. What I could imagine but not see was causing me to get harder, but she wouldn't need x-ray vision to see that. 

"Tom, yesterday's test pretty much exhausted me mentally. I guess I really didn't expect it to be as grueling as it was. So, I was wondering, would you mind too much if I didn't go over every detail of everything I told Jamie and Amanda yesterday?"

"Of course I wouldn't mind," I responded. "I'm sure Jamie will fill me in on all the engineering and technical stuff.

But you know, Lorraine, three times now you've expressed some concern to me about how the test affected you. Do you think we should talk with Jamie before Kim's examination and session? Now that you've been through the mill, do you think we may be pushing too hard, too fast? It's not as if we're really on any kind of a deadline, and if Kim feels the same pressure you did, might it affect her performance to deliver specific results rather than objective observations?"

"I hadn't really thought about it, Tom, but I think it's fair to say that my focus on the specific objectives of my test could possibly have adversely affected my actual responses. If you like, I'll call Jamie later on this evening and talk with her about it. I can probably conference call you in if you want."

"No, I don't need to be on the line unless you particularly want me to be. I know Jamie realizes the pressure you experienced. My guess, from what you've said anyway, is that maybe just relaxing the procedure, not subjecting Kim to such a demanding mental checklist, letting her move at her own pace and experience whatever comes would be all it would take. Like you, she's an experienced and articulate observer, so I'd say just let her do her own thing on her own schedule. Maybe even let her do the masturbation part at home more or less privately. If she wants to DVD it, I'm sure Jamie and I can set up the equipment unobtrusively in her house for her. Actually, the more I think about it, the more I think that's what we should have let you do, too.

Now I feel badly that we may have deprived you of some of the enjoyment of the experiment, Lorraine. So I don't want you to feel under any pressure at all today."

Obviously the anticipation of another technical interrogation today by me about her and the phallus's performance the day before had been worrying Lorraine. Now with that possibility erased, she took me by the arm and ushered me inside. The tension was fast disappearing from her voice. I decided to let her talk at her own pace and not grill her at all. She would talk and guide the conversation wherever it was going to go. I would listen. 

I had expected to be taken to her private office or maybe to the office's video viewing room. Instead, she took me past the viewing room.

"It's such a warm day, Tom. Let's talk over some iced tea out on the patio. It's on the east side of the house just off my kitchen, so it will already be in the shade. And even when it's in the sun, the trees in the back yard keep it much cooler there even when the sun is directly above."

"That sounds really good," I responded. She smiled warmly and led me through the formidable-looking door that separated her office space from her home. Whereas her office space was professionally plain and clinical, her home space was warm and inviting. Just a few steps through the door, and she gave me a guiding nudge through an open arch and into her kitchen. It was well-equipped with what appeared to be the tools of an aspiring professional chef. There were freshly-gathered carrots, cucumbers, and squash on the counter. The carrots still had some loose soil on them.

"Did you raise these?" I waved my hand toward the veggies on the counter.

"Yes. Fresh today. Gardening and cooking are my mental escapes after a tough day. It can be downright dangerous to try and think about a client's issues while at the same time using a razor-sharp knife to slice carrots, cukes, or zukes,"she finished with a laugh. 

She gestured to the high-backed barstools around the kitchen's island. 

"Have a seat while I pour the iced tea. I'm so glad I didn't schedule any clients today. I really needed to relax after yesterday. It was very demanding for me to think and talk coherently after having two bang-bang orgasms. If you don't have some very specific questions about the phallus, I'd rather talk about some general observations, comments really, that Amanda and Jamie didn't specifically cover yesterday. Actually, they couldn't have covered them, because they've pretty much formed in my mind today. Yesterday was ...," she paused, searching for the right word, "...confusing."

"Sure, that's fine, but I'm a nuts-and-bolts engineer and not a professional psychologist like you, so..."

"Don't underestimate yourself, Tom. You're a far better listener than many of my peers in the head biz. And right now, you're exactly what I need to unwind from yesterday."

"Sure, anything I can do to help you feel better," I responded sincerely.

"Mmmm. I like 'anything'," she murmured. She had placed a pitcher of iced tea, two glasses, some lemon wedges and some sugar on a serving tray. With a nod toward the French doors going out to her patio, she said, "Tom, would you please get the door for me?"

We stepped out onto her patio. She was right. With the afternoon shade and a light breeze, it was comfortably cool. She placed the tray on the patio table and motioned for me to choose a chair. Once I was seated, she poured a glass of tea and put it in front of me on the table. 

"Help yourself to the lemon and sugar, Tom."

"Thank you. By the way, Lorraine, I really like your outfit."

Her smile indicated she was pleased with the compliment. 

"Thank you, Tom. I hoped you would."

She prepared her own glass of tea, took a sip, and then paused to take in the surrounding scene. Finally, she spoke.

"Maybe I should start with last Friday. The most inconvenient part of preparing to wear the phallus is that Kim and I have to remove all our pubic hair so the medical cement will properly bond the phallus to our skin for durability and electrical conductivity."

"I can relate to that," I said. 

"Yeah, the electrical conductivity thing," she assumed.

"No, actually the pubic hair thing." Lorraine actually looked shocked, so I laughed a bit and continued. "When I was swimming competitively as an undergrad, our coach insisted that we do everything we could to improve our times. That included removing any exposed body hair to reduce our drag in the water. I didn't have to shave my head because I wore a swim cap, but because my trunks were so small, I went ahead and removed my pubic hair to keep it from sticking out.

It was always a pain to keep my body pretty much hairless."

Lorraine's eyes quickly traveled up and down my body, perhaps as if to visualize what I would look like with less body hair. Then she continued.

"Well fortuitously, Amanda has a professional acquaintance who is a dermatologist and whose partner is a compounding pharmacist. Together, they've come up with a cream depilatory that is extremely mild and very effective. Because it's compounded for each individual patient and uses some controlled drugs, it requires a prescription. 

It's actually a three-part treatment, each part uniquely compounded for the individual patient's skin, allergies, sensitivities, and so on. 

The first part behaves pretty much like a normal depilatory. It's applied and has to sit for about fifteen minutes. Then the user showers or at least washes with warm water. The body hair simply washes away. The main difference is that this one only acts on the hair to the skin line but not below. That completely eliminates skin irritation.

Right after washing, the user applies the second part of the treatment, a lotion which conditions and desensitizes the skin briefly and neutralizes any of the remaining depilatory. Application of the second part also inhibits the regrowth of any hair. At this point our skin is completely receptive to the phallus's application. Any time we remove our phallus, we can shower or wash for sanitation and then reapply the second lotion again. As long as the user keeps applying the second lotion at least once every other day, the body hair will not start regrowing. No stubble. So if we want to have sex, including oral sex, we need only to wash off the lotion before sex. Then after cleaning up after sex, we can reapply the lotion."

"So what's the third part?"

"You'll like this part, Tom, because you're aroused by naturally hairy women. When we decide we want to let our hair grow back, we apply the third lotion rather than the second one after showering. Although this lotion is chemically gentle and helps the skin retain its natural sensitivity and softness, it dramatically jump-starts the hair regrowth. Whereas complete pubic hair restoration without the treatment might take three or four months, with the treatment it takes a month or less without any discomfort or hormonal imbalances. Apparently mine regrows extremely fast; it only takes about ten days to two weeks to reach full length and thickness. Once I start applying it, it's almost as if I'm able to feel my hair growing back. In fact, when I'm lying quietly, it sometimes feels as if a hand is very softly and gently engulfing my mound. So even though right now my mound is still baby-skin smooth, in about two weeks you'll never notice my hair was gone.

Kim and I have both used the treatment in preparation for using both phalluses. We can attest that it really works exactly as Amanda's colleagues promised. Our pubic hair comes in just as thick as before but somewhat softer. The original pubic hair color is unchanged, although as I aged, mine was beginning to show a little gray just as on my head. Now, though, the gray is gone and it's the same color as my head hair."

"It sounds like they have a gold mine in that hair restoration product. I wish I'd known about it when I was swimming."

"Not really profitable, Tom. Because it is prescription-only and because the formula has to be compounded for each individual based on her or his body chemistry and medical history, they can't market it over the counter. They've patented the process, but cost-effective mass-production is impractical. Besides, it will not regrow hair that has disappeared as a result of other causes.

And you most likely wouldn't want to have used it as a student athlete. It probably would have shown up as some sort of performance-enhancing drug or something. Of course, you're not swimming competitively any longer, so it probably wouldn't matter now. 

There is one side effect that some people, probably mainly women, would think is a disadvantage. When our pubic hair comes back in, it seems to make the area much more sensitive to sexual stimulation. Just barely touching and stroking my pussy hair feels almost as exciting as a tongue or soft finger directly on my clit. Kim had the same experience. It's not all the time -- it's just hypersensitive to touch when we're already sexually aroused.

Who knows? You men might experience the same sensation. If you decide you want to try it, I'm sure Amanda will be happy to put you in contact with her colleagues who make it. I hope, though, that you'll let me be the first to help you apply and remove it -- just to make sure you do it properly," she added with a seductive tone to her voice.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 06



"I might take you up on that. And if I do, I'll hold you to your promise to help me," I answered. Our eyes locked briefly before she went on.

"As you know, I wore my new cock intermittently over the weekend. The idea was to see how it felt in everyday nonsexual activities. I was quite pleased to find that it was very comfortable. Just as she does with all her prosthetics, Jamie had done an exceptionally good job designing and building and fine-tuning it for the contours of my body, I hardly even noticed it most of the time. It did not feel foreign at all. It felt as if it had always been part of me. That really surprised me. 

You'll hear me say it felt 'natural' over and over again, Tom. Being a woman, I can't really know what the 'natural' penis feel would be for a man. So what I guess I'm saying is that it didn't feel at all foreign, strange, or uncomfortable at any time. The sensations felt as natural as if I could have been experiencing them all my life. But it is also possible that because I'm bi, I simply don't feel the unease or even guilt that a hetero man might feel if he were able to experience sensations he could readily identify as uniquely feminine.

Anyway, you and Jamie had explained that a certain amount of pressure almost anywhere above the base of the shaft and on the head would start the erection process, so for most of the weekend I was careful to not wear tight clothing or to touch myself there except, of course, to remove and then reapply the phallus. Two hours on, two hours off seemed about right.

But on Sunday afternoon I got curious. Or maybe some latent exhibitionism in me started appearing," she said with an easy laugh. "In any case, I wondered what would happen if I were to wear the phallus in public under my usual street clothes. Would anyone notice? What if I got a hard-on? Would they be shocked or offended -- or turned on? Would they say anything? How would I react to them? The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to try it -- wearing the phallus in public, I mean.

First I put on a pair of my jeans. I couldn't even get them fastened completely before I started getting an erection! That started all the sexual sensations that comes with it, so I had to shed the jeans and wait until my cock went limp again. By the way, and I told this to Jamie, when I relieved the pressure on the cock, the sensations didn't instantly stop. They seemed to subside proportionally with the flaccidity of the phallus. That was a nice feeling -- gradually coming down from arousal rather than instantly being turned off. That's really nice.

Then I began thinking of how you are turned on by women in tight, one-piece swimsuits, so I put on my tank-style swimsuit. It's a high-cut, skin tight black one piece. You've never seen me in it. Actually, I haven't worn it for a few years, because when I decided to let my body hair grow naturally, my pubic hair started sticking out the high leg openings. I know that would be a huge turn-on for you, but believe me, that plus my leg and arm and armpit hair would gross out many people."

When Lorraine said that, I started getting hard myself visualizing her in the swimsuit, wearing the phallus and having her own erection! My distraction did not escape her notice, and when I looked back up, the sparkle in her eyes told me she knew what I had been imagining. Then she continued.

"Anyway, I got into my swimsuit and stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom. The pressure from my swimsuit had started the erection process again, and I got so hard so quickly that I thought I was going to cum right there! My sense, though, is that I was aroused not only by the impulses generated by the physical pressure from the suit on the phallus. I was also visually stimulated by the appearance of my penis growing harder under my swimsuit. The high-cut leg openings accentuated my erection! I know that the phallus should not be affected by my mental state -- it should only become erect during direct physical contact -- but it seemed to me that my mind was exerting some control over it. There seemed to be some neurological interaction, not just external physical stimulation by the swimsuit's pressure on the electrical sensors embedded in the phallus.

And then I experienced another surreal feeling -- looking at myself in the mirror and getting turned on by my own obvious erection growing before my eyes beneath the swimsuit. It was as if the person in the mirror wasn't really me but a separate person. She looked exactly like me but with a cock bulging under her swimsuit. I was overwhelmed by the desire to have my lookalike in the mirror fuck me!"

As she told her story, Lorraine's eyes seemed to glaze over. Her voice stopped, but clearly her mind's eye was back looking in the bedroom mirror on Sunday. 

"I'd like to have seen that," I said spontaneously and truthfully. 

"Well, after I get the phallus back from Jamie, maybe I should model my old swimsuit for you. I think that would be fun...for both of us." After pausing briefly, she continued.

"Since I couldn't get even my usual street clothes on without generating a visible hard-on, and of course not knowing for sure whether I would be able to conceal an orgasm if one or more overtook me, I abandoned my thought about wearing the phallus in public. Well, at least for now. But I have to confess the idea still excites me -- wondering if people will notice and how they'll react."

"I hope I'm there when you decide to try it," I injected. Although she continued talking, her eyes again told me that my comment with its subtle suggestion of us engaging in some sort of forbidden public sex had not gone unnoticed. 

"Anyway," she continued, "I removed the phallus, cleaned and stored it, then went to bed. By that time I was eager to actually get to Amanda's and get ready for the test yesterday.

When I got there, Jamie took me into the prep room and applied the phallus. 

While the cement cured, we talked. She mentioned, Tom, that you and she had agreed to tell me when you two finally had sex. She decided that yesterday would be a good time to tell me. I hope you're not upset with her?"

"No, that doesn't bother me at all. We had agreed that since we are both your clients, you needed to know."

Once again the relief flooded Lorraine's face and was completely revealed in her body language.

"So, how did you do it? How did it feel?" Then she stopped abruptly, apparently shocked by her own bluntness. "God, what terrible questions to ask you! I'm so sorry, Tom." 

I laughed, genuinely amused by Lorraine's momentary discomfort but not wanting to prolong it. I was a little surprised, though, that Jamie hadn't already given Lorraine all the details.

"We just started kissing and touching each other, then pulling off each other's clothes until we were naked. Then we fell onto her bed, kissing and touching and rubbing. We actually seemed to be perfectly sexually synchronized. We had our cocks between our two bodies -- I think Jamie was on top -- and we just started rubbing them between us with our bodies. The closer we got to cumming, the more we pushed and the harder we kissed. Finally we both just orgasmed and let the cum flow between us. To tell you the truth, Lorraine, it felt completely natural to me. It was very spontaneous, and I was so consumed by the pleasure of it that I can't remember many of the details."

"Do you think it would feel the same if it were you and me and I was wearing the phallus?" Lorraine asked.

"Maybe. I mean, we did it when you were wearing the version 1 phallus, and I didn't have any trouble getting hard and cumming then. I'm guessing that if you were wearing your new one, you might even be more into it which might increase both my and your excitement. If that's what you're asking...

But if you're trying to ask delicately if I'm turned off by you or Jamie or for that matter Kim having a cock? Not a chance. Maybe I am closer to bisexual than you first thought, Lorraine."

She looked thoughtful before answering. She could even have heard the slightest hint of uncertainty or apprehension in my voice.

"Maybe, but I don't really think so, Tom. What I think you're experiencing and also getting more comfortable with is the realization that sexual satisfaction and pleasure, as distinguished from sex for reproduction, is not exclusively gender-defined. As I've said to you before, the boundaries of sexual pleasure are sometimes arbitrarily set by culture, not exclusively by gender. I think you're coming to understand that those boundaries are wide and fuzzy shadows rather than distinct and high walls. 

What I really think may be happening with you, Tom, is that you're not as upset as you think you ought to be by your acknowledgement of the blurring of those boundaries. Let me reassure you, and of this I am absolutely positive: If you were truly uncertain about your sexuality, you wouldn't have been able to have an erection with Jamie or experience an orgasm with her as you did. You would have experienced the same situational impotency that brought you to my office in the first place almost a year ago when you were unable to achieve and sustain an erection with a woman. That didn't happen with Jamie, a woman born with a penis. You have long ago overcome that internal mental barrier, but you're still a product of your culture and upbringing. Consequently, in some deep recess of your mind, you question the propriety of sex for pleasure. Fortunately, it is not inhibiting your experiencing sexual pleasure and fulfillment.

Our brains are programmed for sex, Tom. It may be that programming is gender specific for reproduction but gender indifferent or at least ambiguous for sexual pleasure. Our cultural upbringing sometimes erects a barrier between the two. For example, I refer to myself as bisexual, but that's more for convenience during conversation than anything else. It's a term of convenience to avoid long-winded and sometimes incomprehensible explanations.

If you really need any reassurance, Tom, one thing Jamie told me ought to provide it. She said that her orgasm with you was unquestionably the most comfortable and satisfying one she's ever had. Just like me telling you how the phallus feels when I wear it, she used the word 'natural' to describe how it felt to have sex with you. She attributed that to your being a completely heterosexual male whose sexual attraction to her had more to do with her being a woman than her being a sexual anomaly with a fully developed and functional penis rather than a vagina. She said you were her first male sex partner -- not that she's had many -- who made her feel completely feminine, completely female, in spite of her penis. Jamie's been my client for several years, Tom, and I've never heard her say that before. It was a truly remarkable observation for her to make, and I'm sure she intended it to be a compliment to your masculinity.

But now I do wonder about something, Tom, and I hope you won't mind my asking this. I'd like you to think back to when you were an undergrad in college and specifically to the night your frat brothers set you up with Stephanie. I think you said when you were kissing her, you sensed something was different. Yet you kept kissing her. Even after you discovered that she was a transgender woman, you kept kissing her. You said that was to keep up the act you and Stephanie had agreed to fool your frat brothers. Tell me something, Tom. Did you get hard and stay hard while you were kissing Stephanie then, even when you knew she was a man?"

If Lorraine had asked that question of me before my sex with Jamie, I would probably have been shocked and maybe a little offended. But now, I gave it the thought I had not given it before -- or maybe had blocked out of my mind.

"Yeah, I did. I guess being honest with you, I'd have to say I was still a little turned on kissing Stephanie. When she and I talked, she said she felt like she was really a woman trapped inside a man's body."

"That's something we commonly hear transgenders say, Tom, and it is a simple but very precise and honest expression of how many of them do feel.

Tom, what do you think you would have done then if Stephanie had loosened your pants and started stroking your cock?"

"I... I might have let her. I mean, I really thought she was a girl. Woman." 

"But before that could happen, you started feeling her up and found she was a man with a cock. What was her reaction then?"

I had to pause to recall that night.

"At first, I guess when she still thought I knew she was really a man, she liked it. I mean, she was hard. But when I rubbed what I thought would be her pussy and felt his cock, I pulled my hand away. We pretty quickly both realized we had been tricked and deceived by my former frat brothers."

"Yet you both went on to act as if you didn't object. And you said you and Stephanie have stayed friends. But you've never had sex or even kissed again, right?"

"Yes, that's right. Oddly enough and in spite of our differences sexually, Stephanie and I have a lot in common."

"So, Tom, aren't you even a little curious about what it would feel like for you and Stephanie to mutually masturbate each other? Maybe to cum together?"

"Until now, I've never really given it any thought, Lorraine. And she and I have never talked about sex at all. Why? What are you getting at?"

"Really, Tom, I'm not sure. I suppose I'm just trying to get a better understanding of my own feelings after wearing the phallus yesterday and after my experiences today.

Like I said earlier. Yesterday was a little confusing. Once the phallus had been applied, I continued to feel the same sensations that I've always felt as a woman becoming aroused. But I was also feeling other sensations, new ones, as well. Obviously they were distinct or I wouldn't have even noticed them as different from what I usually feel. They weren't in conflict, and in fact they were really nice, but even though my cock felt natural, the sensations it generated were strange. I was behaving more like a man than a woman at times. I swear to God, Tom, there were times I just felt like grabbing someone and fucking them."

Her words revealed her own frustration. And they left me feeling completely inadequate, unable to say anything that would help her understand her feelings. 

"I mentioned this to both Jamie and Amanda yesterday right after the test. Something happened during my orgasms that has never happened before. I ejaculated. 

Like most women, I never had ejaculated during orgasm. But I did yesterday. When I removed the phallus, there it was, a small amount of ejaculate. It's fortunate that there wasn't more, because there's no provision in the phallus design to capture any emissions. Since we were at Amanda's lab, she did a quick chemical test on it and confirmed it was not urine but an emission from the Skene's gland. From a medical perspective, she thought it was significant that now but never before had I ejaculated. That tends to support a very tentative theory that Amanda, Kim, and I have begun to outline about how sex with you, specifically your 'gift,' may have had a greater effect on our brains than we first thought. But I don't want to get into that right now. At this point, we're more interested in testing and perfecting the prosthetic phallus.

Jamie, Amanda, and I discussed it, and Jamie believes that the phallus may have to be modified to either provide a catch reservoir or redesigned to allow for urogenital emissions to be expelled just as with a urethra in a natural penis. Amanda had already been working on the second alternative, a urethra. Amanda, Jamie, and I generally agree that is a better solution. Of course, we haven't discussed it yet with Kim, because we want to hear her observations without being biased by the results of my test.

Then I hit both of them with a question that left them baffled. When a man ejaculates, does he feel the flow of his ejaculate through his cock, or does he just feel the overall orgasm?" 

She paused, apparently waiting for me to respond and when I didn't, she asked, "Well? Do you?"

I had to think about that before answering. "I don't know. I've never really paid any attention. Why?"

"That was what Jamie said, too. Her inclination was to think that a person just feels the orgasm, because the urethra is just a tube. But Amanda said there are nerves associated with the urethra in both men and women, so she wanted to see if there was a more complete and accurate answer in the medical literature. 

The reason I wanted to know, Tom, is that when I came, it actually felt like I could feel it flowing through the phallus. It was like a slow-motion movie, though. I know that was impossible with its present construction, but it really did feel like that was happening. I wondered if the feeling of the jism flow could be replicated with some kind of sensors in the phallus. That is, of course, assuming the feeling is there in a man's natural penis."

"It's a good question, and I think it would be a great design and engineering challenge. Let me talk with Jamie after Amanda tells us what she finds." I wanted to ask a lot of technical questions right then, but Lorraine was quickly relaxing, and I didn't want to interrupt that.

"There are a couple of things that happened today that I believe are a direct result of the test yesterday," she said. "I would like to tell you about them today. And of course, I'll tell Amanda and Jamie before Kim's test begins." 

That odd tone I had heard earlier on the phone had crept back into her voice. This time, though, it was clearly more professional curiosity than apprehension or concern. Lorraine was comfortable and in her element as a psychologist again.

"You'll recall, Tom, that back when Jamie made the version 1 phallus for me to wear while trying to treat Kim's inability to orgasm, I went along but was not exactly enthralled with the idea. Even though Kim has long held a sexual fantasy about having a penis and being able to have sex as a man, I haven't. Although I am comfortably bisexual, I'd never had any desire to know what it feels like to have sex as a man. That is one fantasy that had eluded me." She paused and looked deeply into my eyes before continuing. "After yesterday, though, I think that is changing. In fact, I'm sure it is." 

After pausing again for me to absorb the full effect of her words, she resumed.

"Jamie's version 2 phallus is a dramatic advancement over the version 1. At least for me it was, and I'm guessing we'll hear that from Kim, too. It has many more and different sensations associated with it, a far greater range and depth of sensations than version 1 had. 

Even though I hadn't experienced exactly those same sensations before, they felt remarkably natural for me. They were also very exciting, and of course, very arousing. If I had to speculate, I'd say that Jamie's being a woman born with and still having a penis enabled her to somehow, maybe almost subconsciously, translate some unique sensations that usually only a man with a real penis could experience into the technology to impart them to a woman wearing the phallus. And of course that would increase the comfort and restore the natural sexual sensations to a man wearing it as a sexual prosthetic, too.

"But you said you wanted to mention a couple things you noticed today...?"

"Oh. Yes. Well, actually, it began yesterday before the test, but I didn't think much about it. Jamie needed to handle the phallus to cement it to my bare skin, so it was already erect from her handling. That didn't cause me to have any unexpected or uncontrollable sexual sensations, though. Once she applied it, we talked about you and her having sex. Then Jamie left the room, I laid back to relax before the test, and the phallus went limp within a minute, maybe two, just as it should have when external physical pressure was removed.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 06



After a few quiet minutes, though, something strange happened. For no particular reason I started fantasizing about what it would be like to have you lying on top of me right then, kissing me, making my nipples hard and then pinching them the way you do, and finally rubbing our cocks together. When I started thinking that, the phallus started getting hard again."

"Probably from the pressure of your robe or gown?" I suggested.

"No, Tom. I wasn't wearing anything while I was lying there. And no, I hadn't absentmindedly touched myself, either. No, it was truly getting hard by itself while I was fantasizing about you. I hadn't touched it, even lightly. It got hard just from my thinking about rubbing my prosthetic phallus against your real cock. Jamie said she intends to follow up on that. Something about leakage something-or-other. You probably need to get the techie details directly from her."

"Leakage current," I said as nodded emphatically. 

"Leakage current. Yes, that was it. But that was yesterday, and overall the test went well, maybe even better than we expected.

Then today, I've had some unusually vivid sexual thoughts. It's not unusual for me to get easily aroused the day after intense orgasms, and especially when you were even mentally involved in generating them. But each time today while watching the video, I felt as if I was getting an erection all over again just has I had over the weekend and yesterday during the test. The feelings were so real, so complete, that I automatically reached down to touch my cock. 

Of course, there was no cock there. I had returned it to Jamie yesterday, but all of the sensations I had experienced in the first erections of the phallus were present. And they were just as intense as if I was still wearing it. Tom, it was more than mental arousal -- I could actually feel it getting hard as if it was still attached to me. Every sensation I experienced yesterday was back. And my clit was noticeably enlarged just as if it had been touched. It was like my sexual nerve endings had a memory! 

Logically, masturbating would have been a normal thing for me to do given my high state of arousal. But for some reason I can't explain, I didn't really feel compelled to masturbate to try and relieve the phantom erection feelings. Actually, now that I think about it, I have to say that I almost preferred the continuing intense arousal sensations to the relief that would have come had I finger-fucked myself to climax. Anyway, after a few minutes the erection sensations went away and my clit receded. 

That same process repeated twice more today -- right after each time I watched the video to prepare for our meeting. But here's what I think is really important.

Shortly after each of those three phantom penile erections had subsided, I became intensely aroused again, but not as if I were once again wearing the phallus. I became aroused as a woman, the woman I am, not the woman wearing the phallus. It was like the feeling I had wearing the phallus under my one-piece swimsuit standing in front of the mirror -- the only way to succinctly describe it is that I, a woman without a penis, wanted the mirror's image of me with the phallus, to fuck me. But my image in the mirror was very fuzzy, very indistinct. And Tom, the more I tried to understand what was happening, my image in the mirror morphed from me with a cock to you."

"That sounds kind of like what happened with me that time I was standing in front of the mirror in my bedroom jacking off. Remember me telling you about that, Lorraine? I woke up after a wet dream. I had soaked my bed with jizz. But when I walked naked in front of the mirror, I started getting hard again. So I stood in front of the mirror to jack off. And while I was, my own mirror image changed into Jamie standing there naked jerking off her own cock."

"Yes, Tom, I do remember that. I explained that it was a pretty clear sign that you wanted to have sex with Jamie."

"So what's different between what happened to me then and what happened to you standing in front of your mirror today?" I asked rhetorically.

Much to my surprise, she reacted as if she hadn't recalled or considered that until now. "Thank you, Tom. Sometimes even practicing psychologists can't see the obvious -- or maybe we're reluctant to acknowledge it when it applies to us. 

What you're suggesting, Tom, and I believe it is probably accurate, is that I would like to experience sex with you not only as a woman, but also in a role as a man when I am wearing the phallus. I know that you are not bi like me, Tom, so that may not exactly appeal to you..."

Her face showed apprehension again.

After a moment of genuinely considering the effect of her words, I answered, "Well to be honest about it, I think it would be very exciting. It's a real turn-on for me when you cowgirl up on me and hump my cock with your clit. And I wasn't at all uncomfortable when Jamie and I did it with her cock, so..." I trailed off.

"Why don't we go watch the DVD, then?" Lorraine suggested. 

We both arose from the patio table. I started to walk toward the French doors into the kitchen, but she took my arm and seemed to pull me closer as if we were walking somewhere after a date. 

"Let's go this way, Tom," her voice was thick, sultry, as she pulled me toward another set of French doors from the patio.

I could tell from her demeanor and touch that the "professional psychologist" Lorraine had left the building. The sexual tension between us was climbing again, and I sensed neither of us wanted it to subside. 

"I think we'll be a little more comfortable in here, Tom."

We walked through the mystery doors and into her bedroom. 

The room was completely feminine, even the high-definition large screen television a short distance from the foot of her bed. But even the home entertainment cabinet supporting it was decidedly feminine. The white cabinet with delicately carved woodworking detail complemented the white mask around the hi-def TV. In spite of the slightly off-white walls and white furniture, the room was remarkably warm and inviting. The sheers and curtains had been drawn so the slightly yellow light from the night stands' lamps added to the warmth. 

Perhaps sensing my slight unease as to whether to remain standing or sit, Lorraine parted from me and moved smoothly to pick up the DVD player's remote from the cabinet next to the TV. Without speaking, she pushed the start button, then turned back to me. 

"Tom, the DVD is quite short. It didn't take long at all for me to orgasm. Twice." There was a very sexy, sensual, and almost pseudo-masculine pride in her voice.

I continued standing and watched the screen.

Within a couple seconds the image of Amanda's rather sterile-looking laboratory bedroom came on the screen. 

Moments later, the door near the bed opened and Lorraine walked into the room. I was somewhat shocked to see she was totally naked. She paused only long enough to close the door behind her. Then she strode confidently toward the foot of the bed where she stood, hands on her hips, feet apart about shoulder width, and up slightly on her toes. She looked straight into the camera, clearly wanting us to get a head-to-toe frontal shot of her entire body, including the very noticeably erect prosthetic phallus. It would not be an exaggeration to say everything about her exuded her pride in having a cock.

"Wow!" I exclaimed. I looked to my left at Lorraine. She hit the pause button on the remote. 

"Is 'wow!' a scientific evaluation of my cock, Tom?" she asked with what I assumed was mock-seriousness. 

It took me a few moments to compose my thoughts. My eyes shifted between the recorded image frozen on the screen and the very real Lorraine standing next to it. Then back and forth again. It was difficult as I tried to explain to her what I was seeing and feeling. I'd had exceptionally fulfilling sex with her, a mature 50-year old woman, but it was as if I was seeing that woman in a somewhat different body, a retro-Lorraine body. 

Lorraine and Kim had both told me about some physiological changes they experienced after having sex with me, but it wasn't until now, seeing Lorraine naked on the screen and with a cock, that I finally began to see what she and Kim had been trying to tell me. The changes were subtle, but definitely there. 

It was not as if her body had been magically and, frankly, unnaturally or artificially transformed into that of a 25- or 30-year old. It was not a silicone and botox transformation. Neither was it as if this 50-year old woman had just been working out to reduce body fat and increase muscle. Someone seeing her this way for the first time, forgetting for the moment that she was wearing the prosthetic phallus, would see her for what she was -- is -- an extremely attractive and very sexy woman whose body is totally natural rather than sculpted and shaped by artificial means. Well, except for the phallus. And even it looked as if it were a full-life part of her.

I tried to explain my assessment to Lorraine, but the exact words escaped me. To my surprise, she seemed pleased by my inability to precisely verbalize my observations. 

"Perhaps you need a real-life comparison, Tom."

With that she deftly allowed her semi-sheer cover to drop to the ground. She wore nothing under it. I was overwhelmed, left speechless, by the beauty and complete sexuality of the naked mature woman standing in front of me. All of her features that had sexually attracted me to her before were still there, but her physical body's refinement accentuated them. She had told me of the disappearing aging wrinkles and smoothing of her skin, the uplifting breasts, the increased prominence of her clit and slight puffiness of her mound. She had told me of all these things, and I had indeed seen her naked after that. But it wasn't until right now that all of these changes and more became apparent while she still retained the sexuality of her maturity. It was as if a fine painting had been just been put in the perfect frame, one that emphasized the beauty of the artwork without in any way distracting the viewer from it. 

She pushed a button on the remote, and the room lights went very dim. Motorized drapes closed over the doors we had just passed through. 

She pushed another button on the remote. The word "loop" appeared briefly on the television screen and then disappeared, and the video resumed. After remaining in her pose and facing one of the cameras in Amanda's laboratory for a while longer, Lorraine walked to the bedside, sat down, and lay on her back. Then she placed her right hand on her cock and began to tentatively stroke it.

"Oh!" her exclamation burst from the audio/video system's speaker.

"What was that about?" I asked the real Lorraine without taking my eyes off the screen.

"I guess I was a little surprised at how natural the cock felt in my hand. I was being turned on by it getting harder and longer in my hand. Just like I am now."

My eyes were on the video screen, watching the recorded Lorraine slowly stroking herself. 

But the living Lorraine had moved next to me in her bedroom and had begun rather urgently unfastening my cargo shorts and then unzipping them.

Back on the video screen, even though Lorraine had been stroking her new phallus for only slightly more than a minute, it was clear from her facial contortions and breathing that she was near to cumming. Her strokes became faster, almost frantic. Now her groans and grunts were intensifying to a point they were distorting in the DVD playback's sound system. Her face was dark red, her eyes were closed tightly, yet she continued to stroke and moan until suddenly her hips began to heave upward as if she was driving her cock into some partner on top of her. Finally her fucking motions began to subside gradually. After a few more seconds, she lay nearly totally relaxed on her back, perspiration running down the sides of her face, her hair disheveled. Even then, she gently but rhythmically continued to stroke her cock. Her body occasionally twitched, though nowhere near as it had during her violent and prolonged orgasm. Then she removed her hand, and in about a minute, her phallus began to go limp.

Here in her bedroom, Lorraine's hand had found my own cock and freed it from my shorts. She had begun first very gently massaging it to erection with her fingertips, but as her own masturbation on the screen became more animated, her hand on my hardness synchronized with her movements on the screen. 

I started to turn toward Lorraine, but in a voice dripping with sex she said, "There's more." I looked at her with a "You've got to be kidding me!" look. Her eyes locked on mine, but her soft hand firmly stroked my fully-erect cock. She motioned with her head for me to look back at the screen.

After another minute or two, Lorraine's flaccid phallus began to become erect again -- this time on its own. Lorraine was not touching it. Nothing was touching it. 

"How...?" I stammered as I looked at Lorraine.

"It felt so good when it started to get hard again -- even without me touching it." Lorraine's hand on my cock had become more firm again when she spoke.

With considerable difficulty I turned my attention away from Lorraine and back to the screen, fully expecting the on-screen Lorraine to begin stroking her cock again. Instead, she rolled over onto her front with her now fully-erect cock between her underside and the bedsheet. Then she began rubbing it against the bed. Clearly she was getting into position to mastur-fuck the bed as if she were on top of a partner.

She continued thrusting her hips downward against the bed, sliding her cock up and down the sheet. She gave out a loud cry with each thrust, the cries growing louder and deeper with each passing second. Then she emitted a resounding and prolonged growl and groan of release with one final thrust that looked as if it would surely penetrate the mattress with her cock. She collapsed face down on the bed, gasping for air, her body quivering and twitching whenever she moved even slightly. Two or three minutes later, her orgasm having subsided, she sat up briefly on the edge of the bed, swaying ever so slightly left and right as if she might be a bit lightheaded. Then she simply arose and walked out of the room without looking back at the camera.

Back in her own bedroom, Lorraine had continued to firmly grasp my fully exposed cock and slowly, expertly stroke it with her hand. On the screen, the DVD had looped back to the beginning and had started again. In her room, Lorraine put her arm around my neck and firmly pulled my face to hers to kiss me first very sensitively but soon with increasing fervor. She pushed her warm, smooth body against me, my exposed and very erect cock feeling the warmth and chamois-like smoothness of her hairless skin at her mound.

Lorraine broke our kiss and rasped, "You're wearing entirely too much clothing, Tom." With that, she grabbed the bottom of my tee-shirt and pulled it up over my head. Instead of pulling it all the way off, she left me effectively blindfolded. I felt her mouth and tongue kissing and licking at my chest. Suddenly and with no warning, she sucked my right nipple into her mouth and bit down with it between her teeth. The sharp, unexpected pain was more exhilarating and arousing than distractingly painful. That pain shot downward into my exposed erection which was still pushing against her body. 

The instant Lorraine released her bite on my right nipple, there was a surprisingly arousing relief. It lasted only a second. A moment later, my face still covered by my shirt, she repeated the bite, this time to my left nipple. This time, I cried out for her to stop, but she clearly recognized it as a cry of sexual pleasure. 

"You don't really want me to stop, do you?" she practically snarled at me. 

My sounds mixed with the audio of Lorraine being hit by the first of her two orgasms on the the looping DVD. 

I frantically struggled to pull off my tee-shirt which would also completely free my arms. Then, while Lorraine wrapped both her arms around my bare neck and began kissing my lips and probing my mouth with her tongue, I used my own hands to blindly push down my cargo shorts and undershorts. Lorraine's kisses were bordering on unrelenting violence with a sexual ferocity I had never before experienced with her. I could feel her thrusting her pussy against me as if trying desperately to find my hard cock and impale herself on it. Her arms pulled me to her, grinding her noticeably firmer breasts against my chest.

I had no sooner managed to step out of my shorts and kick off my shoes that Lorraine pushed me back onto the bed. It was as if she rode me down onto it, because I was on my back with her on top. The violence of her movements emboldened and inflamed me, and I reached up to grab both her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. She did the same to me, tugging, twisting, and pulling with the same intensity as I applied to hers. We both cried out, urging the other not to stop but to go on.

I expected Lorraine to slide her clit up and down my shaft as she had done so many times before, but instead she slid it up until my cockhead was at her opening just feeling its wetness. In the next abrupt motion, she drove herself down onto me, taking my full length inside her, each thrust emphasizing that she was going to fuck me until I came. 

Never had she been so sexually expressive. Never had she fucked me from above with the same driving force as if she was penetrating me with her cock rather than her with mine. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the image on the video screen and heard the sounds. Lorraine had her back to the screen, but I could clearly see that the DVD had looped to the point where Lorraine was trying to drive the phallus into her imaginary partner on the bed beneath her at Amanda's laboratory.

It was then I realized that the real Lorraine riding on top of me in her bedroom was emulating, stroke for stroke, what the on-screen Lorraine was doing. Lorraine was on top of me and moving herself as if she had somehow appropriated my cock and was using it to fuck me. Rather than being shocked or repulsed, I was becoming even more incredibly aroused by Lorraine's actions, so much so that as the on-screen Lorraine began to experience her phallus's masturbatory orgasm, I shot my cum up through our shared cock and into the real Lorraine riding me.

An instant after my cum erupted into her, Lorraine's eyes flew open as the first of her chained orgasms hit her. Still she kept driving her pussy down on my cock, undoubtedly re-experiencing the same feelings as when she had been wearing the phallus. I felt her fingernails digging into my chest, clawing as if to wring more cum out of me. With the immediate onset of her second orgasm, her eyes tightly shut, her faced tensed as her muscles sought to amplify the intensity and duration of her orgasm. Her sounds in her bedroom synchronized with her on-screen orgasmic groans perfectly, and her body began to shake violently. Still her cunt muscles grasped my still-throbbing cock tightly as if to bond with her pussy walls. My own orgasm seemed to last much longer than usual, or maybe it was as if time had slowed. Still I pumped and thrust upward to meet her downward fuck strokes. And her body continued to spasm, her cries grew more frantic. With one final cry and powerful fuck stroke, she collapsed on top of me, gasping now for air, her body still occasionally twitching when a smaller after-orgasm would hit her. 

She lay on top of me, her hair completely messed, her smooth pussy lips still surrounding my erection. Her breathing was returning to normal, but she was still unable to speak. Her body seemed nearly limp as if all the strength in it had been consumed in her several sequential orgasms. After a few minutes, she summoned the strength to roll off of me and onto her back on her bed. She rolled her head toward me, slowly and with obvious difficulty, and tried unsuccessfully to speak. Her lips moved, but no sounds came forth. Though she fought valiantly, her eyes fluttered closed, and she descended into deep post-orgasmic sleep. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 06



It took several minutes before my own body could find the strength and coordination to move. Finally I arose and stood looking down at Lorraine's beautiful sleeping nakedness. Even now and not looking through the lens of lust, I could see the bodily changes Lorraine had mentioned. I marveled that a 50-year-old woman could look and act so youthful while still possessing the maturity only years can deliver. Yet as my mind cleared further, I still wondered how she and Kim could be so positive that the rejuvenation of their youth could even remotely be attributed to what they still called my "gift." I realized that no matter how much I stared at Lorraine, the answer would not come -- at least not today. I carefully covered her from the shoulders down with the bed sheet. She didn't stir.

The video was continuing, so I picked up the remote, hit the stop button, then ejected the DVD and put it in its case. Finally I turned off both the DVD player and the television. Though my body was less than half Lorraine's age, her strength and force during fucking had taxed my own muscles, and I found that it took me much longer than usual to dress. She slept quietly now, at peace and relaxed. 

After locking the doors connecting her bedroom and kitchen to her patio, I walked slowly through the door connecting her home to her office, then out through the front office door, locking it behind me. Once in my car I glanced at the dashboard clock: 5:30 p.m. The two and one-half hours I had been with her seemed much longer. Perhaps still distracted by the pleasurable time I'd had with Lorraine, I entered the interstate to go home. Almost immediately I realized I had made a serious error. Traffic was completely stopped. Normally, even here, rush hour traffic on the freeway is not even stop-and-go. 

I flipped on the car radio to the local all-news station to get "traffic reports on the eights". "Traffic is at a standstill on the interstate between exits 122 and 123 due to a jackknifed big-rig just east of the exit 123 off-ramp. State police expect to have one lane of traffic open by 5:45 p.m." That told me I was going to be sitting still for several more minutes and would be doing the creepy-crawly for some time after that. 

With nothing else to do I decided to use my cell phone to call Jamie and tell her about Lorraine's comments on her experiences today. I had inadvertently left my cell phone on "mute", and the display showed that I had received two calls while at Lorraine's. The first was from Jamie at 3:38 p.m., and the second was from Kim at 4:07 p.m.

"Hey Jamie. It's Tom Connors returning your call," I said when she answered. I went on to explain about my leaving the phone on mute and how I was taking my "freeway therapy" time to return calls. 

"It's okay, Tom. I was just calling to let you know that Kim had called. She has a patient who she said is 'going bad,' so we're going to have to postpone her phallus test for a few days."

"Okay. That's not necessarily a setback, though," I responded. I explained about Lorraine's physical and mental fatigue and how she had experienced some unusual arousals and sensations today. Jamie jumped in the instant I mentioned Lorraine's feeling an explicit penile erection sensation each time she viewed the DVD.

"Wait a second, Tom. Did I hear you correctly? Did you say that each time she watched her masturbation DVD today, she felt like she was still wearing the phallus and experienced the feeling of an erection?"

"That's exactly what she said. She said the feelings were so real that she automatically reached down to touch herself. Of course, she had returned the phallus to you the day before, so..."

"That's really significant, Tom!" Jamie interrupted with a tone of urgency I'd seldom heard her use before. "When a person suffers an amputation, say an arm or leg, it is very common for them to experience exactly the same sensations they had before the lost part was amputated. They're called 'phantom sensations' because the victim still feels a lifetime of sensations he or she had experienced with the missing part. We believe the victim's brain has become so imprinted with those lifetime sensations that even when the part is no longer there to respond to external stimuli, the brain draws on its historical imprint and tries to fill in what it thinks the person ought to be feeling based on all surrounding circumstances.

But in Lorraine's case, she had only worn the phallus since last Friday, and then only sporadically throughout the weekend and Monday. That's hardly a lifetime of experience with it as part of her body. So with only a few days exposure to the sensations from the phallus, what caused her brain to memorize enough information to cause her to experience a phantom penile erection? 

I'm concerned now, Tom, that our phallus may be sending more and stronger information to the wearer's brain than we first thought."

"I hadn't thought it through that far, Jamie, but based on Lorraine's mental and physical fatigue, do you think we might want to rethink the phallus design and the methodology of Kim's upcoming test?"

"Absolutely! In fact, I think Lorraine, Amanda, Marta, Kim, you, and I need to have a meeting as soon as possible to make sure we understand exactly what Lorraine experienced with the phantom erections. 

As far as redesigning the phallus, the answer may be something as simple as attenuating the signal levels from the phallus to the wearer. And it may also just be that we need to slow down the pace of the testing -- let Kim proceed at her own pace. I probably pushed Lorraine too hard to make too many detailed observations while she was masturbating. It may be that she's so intelligent, I simply overloaded her for information. Or it could be some combination of these or even things we haven't yet identified. Regardless, I don't want to jeopardize Kim's health and the validity of our tests by trying to go too far, too fast. I know we had originally excluded Kim until after her own phallus test, but I think now we need to include her."

"So are you going to contact Lorraine, Marta, Amanda, and Kim to set up a mutually convenient time and place for the meeting?" I asked.

"Yeah, I can do that," Jamie responded. "I'd like to have the meeting this coming weekend if we can all make it. And if Kim's patient is still critical at the hospital, it might make it easier for her if the meeting was at Amanda's laboratory since it's just a block from the hospital. Would that work for you, Tom?"

"Sure, anytime this weekend would be fine if it works for everyone else."

"I'll get going on it then. Anything else, Tom?" Jamie asked.

"You sound a lot better today. Is your annual cold getting better?"

"That's really weird, Tom. Like I told you the other day, I usually am contagious and feel really crappy for three or four days. But I got up this morning and had no symptoms at all. It was such an odd deviation from years past that I dropped in on Amanda and had her check me out. She did a quick mouth swab and confirmed that I still have the cold and I'm still mildly contagious, but she was baffled by the complete disappearance of my symptoms. She suggested that I avoid public contact today and tomorrow. She wants me to pop back into her office on Thursday morning and she'll check me again."

I had a thought but didn't say anything.

"Tom? Are you still there?" she asked.

"Yeah, I was just thinking..."

"What?"

"Well, you and I had sex. Remember that Lorraine's atrial fibrillation began to disappear right after she and I first had sex? Do you suppose there's a connection?"

Now it was Jamie's turn to invoke silence at the other end of the phone line.

"Normally I might laugh that off, Tom, but at this point and with the effects your 'gift' seems to have on your sex partners' brains, I think I'd like to mention that to Amanda when she checks me on Thursday. Would you mind?"

"No, not at all. I'm still wondering about the dimensions of my supposed 'gift,' so I'd hate to dismiss something as irrelevant that may turn out to be an important component of it."

"Spoken like a true engineer," she laughed. "But thank you -- I think. I'll let you know what she says. And I'll let you know if and when and where we'll all be meeting to discuss Lorraine's phantom erections."

"Okay. Well, I've got a voicemail from Kim that she left shortly after you left yours. I'll give her a call now."

Jamie and I disconnected and I called Kim back.

When she answered I briefly explained why I had missed her first call and was now returning her call. I didn't mention that I had already talked with Jamie.

"Tom, I'm afraid we're going to have to postpone getting together on Thursday. I have a critically ill patient that desperately needs a procedure to restore his normal heart rhythm. We're trying to stabilize him enough to enable him to at least have a chance of surviving the procedure. We're hoping to do the procedure on Thursday; Friday at the latest. If we go beyond Friday, well..."

"It's okay, Kim. I understand completely."

"After this is over, Tom, I would like to introduce you to the cardiologist who will actually be doing the procedure. I'll be assisting him. You may have heard one of your master's committee mention his name. It's David Klein. He went to college with your thesis committee chairman Dr. Keller. They were close friends there, they resumed that when Dr. Klein came here to practice. Anyway, Dr. Klein would like to talk with you about your graduate research in nanotechnology sensors. He sees some application in neurosurgery of the kind we'll be doing on our patient hopefully on Thursday."

"Sure. I'd be very interested in talking with him. So, how did your week's visit with your daughter go?"

"It was actually very pleasant. She's more comfortable running the businesses now, and she seems to be relaxing a little bit. Now she only works 23-1/2 hours each day," Kim said laughingly. "No, she's finally loosening up a bit. She still needs to get laid, though! Are you interested?" 

I was less than sure Kim was completely joking with the last question even though she punctuated it with another laugh. Still, I decided to play along.

"So how would that work? I'm assuming you haven't told her that her mother is having sex with a younger man whose age is closer to her daughter's?"

There was a rather unexpected pause before Kim continued. I was hearing unspoken discomfort in the pause.

"Actually, Tom, she sort of does know about you. I had to make my hospital rounds one day and Sarah decided to play a DVD she brought with her. When she turned on my DVD player and TV in my bedroom to warm them up, she got an eyeful of you in one of your masturbation sessions Lorraine had recorded in her office. I had been reviewing it at home and had inadvertently left it in the player."

"Reviewing it? Or enjoying yourself?" I asked. 

"Guilty as charged," she answered with more an air of unashamed defiance than any guilt at being caught. Then she continued, "When I got home, Sarah was pretty clever. Instead of telling me she had watched your DVD, she started asking me about my own love life after Walter died. She had noticed some of the age-reversing changes in my body since she last saw me. She put two and two together, and when she saw the DVD of you, she came up with four. Finally she told me she watched your DVD."

"And you said...?"

"I told her the truth. Sort of. I told her you were a patient and that I couldn't discuss anything about your case."

I started laughing. "What did she say to that?" I asked between laughs.

"She just looked at me, smiled, and said, 'Well, Mom, if you're not fucking him, you damn well ought to be.' I think she might even have been a little envious. And, I might add, she would have good reason to be. You know, Tom, Sarah noticed my more youthful appearance. She even complimented me on it. She even suggested that I should let my try letting my hair go back to its normal color. God, just thinking about feeling that hard young body of yours on top of me with my legs wrapped around you is really making me wet."

She paused briefly, apparently to compose herself.

"Seriously, Tom, I really apologize for leaving your DVD in my player at home. It never occurred to me that she would go in my bedroom to watch a DVD. Still, I should have been much more careful with confidential patient information. I'm very sorry."

I sensed that her error had upset Kim far more than it had me. 

"Kim, don't worry about it. From what you've told me about the businesses your husband ran and that Sarah's running now, she's seen guys jerking off more times than she can count. But if you're really concerned, I'll be more than happy to let you make it up to me next time we get together. In fact, maybe you and I ought to make our own private DVD for you to give to her," I said, fully intending it to be a joke.

"Hmmm, you know, that's not a bad idea...," Then she abruptly changed her tone. "Oh! I've got a call waiting from Dr. Klein, probably about our patient. Bye!" She disconnected before I could respond.

Traffic on the freeway was beginning to move, stop-and-go, but it was at least moving. I had just set my cell phone down on the seat when it rang. Willing to risk a collision at glacial speed, I picked it up and answered.

"Hello, Tom. It's Amanda Wallace. I just got off the phone with Jamie. She said you were stuck in traffic. Are you moving yet or can you safely talk for a minute?"

"The cops must have one lane open, because we are moving, but it's really slow. Did Jamie talk with you about a group meeting to discuss how to proceed with Kim's tests?"

"She did. I suggested we tentatively set it for Sunday afternoon. Saturday would be fine for me, too. I think it will be determined by the condition of Kim's patient, though. To make it easier for her, I told Jamie I'd be willing to arrange to use one of the small meeting rooms at the hospital. That would make it more convenient for Kim, and the rooms are hardly ever used on weekends anyway."

"Good idea. And Saturday or Sunday will be fine with me, too. I had thought about going home this weekend, but that was just because I didn't really have any other plans to keep me here."

"Actually, I had another reason for calling, Tom. I'm trying to figure out the best way to consider Lorraine's suggestion that the phallus include either a catch reservoir or a discharge tube for the wearer's ejaculate. Normally I'd meet with Jamie to discuss the design and engineering concerns, but since she's still contagious I wondered if you might be available, maybe Thursday afternoon, to come to the lab and discuss it?"

"Sure. What time's good for you?" I asked recalling that Kim intended to see Amanda on Thursday morning.

"How about three? I've got a couple other things to discuss with you, too."

"Okay, Amanda. I'll see you at three on Thursday afternoon. Traffic's starting to move again, so I should go."

Even with the traffic beginning to flow more smoothly, it took another half hour for me to get back to my apartment. I wasn't really hungry yet, so I sat down in front of my computer to check my emails. There were two. 

The first was from my thesis chairman, Dr. Keller, asking me to stop by his office before my first class tomorrow, Wednesday. Odd. Dr. Keller rarely emailed me; he usually left notes in my grad student cubicle. I clicked on "reply," then emailed that I would be at his office at 7:45 a.m. 

The second email was from ShaMad -- Sharon Madison, my mother's close friend. Mom would undoubtedly croak if she knew what Sharon and I had done at the private resort the preceding Saturday night. Sharon's email message was brief: "Pls call my cell Weds @ 4:15 p.m." I didn't reply to her email, but only out of concern my reply might be found by her husband.

Figuring that dressing up a bit for a meeting with my master's thesis chairman might not be a bad idea, I put on a pair of dark slacks with a freshly-pressed blue long-sleeve dress shirt on Wednesday. Promptly at 7:44 a.m. I knocked on his office door. Rather that receiving the usual verbal "come in" shouted from across his desk, I was surprised that he opened the door himself and greeted me like a long-lost son. 

"Tom, come in, come in. There's someone here I want you to meet," he said warmly as he ushered me in. "Tom Connors, this is Dr. David Klein. Dr. Klein is a neurocardiological surgeon at the hospital."

I extended my hand. "How do you do, Dr. Klein? I'm very happy to meet you."

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Connors. I hope you'll excuse me for getting to the point, but I have a patient in some distress at the hospital so my time is limited." Without waiting for me to answer (as if I would have insisted he waste time on social niceties) he went on, "Peter here has discussed with your double-E master's thesis research on nanotechnology sensors and applications. 

I wonder if you've ever considered the applications of your research in the neurosciences? 

Perhaps I should be a little more specific. The patient I am concerned about is experiencing a deterioration of the neurological path that allows his brain to communicate with his heart. During our lifetime most of us will experience some level of neurological deterioration. Because of the miraculous healing power of our own bodies, most of those will be healed or the body will simply self-bypass the deteriorating area. Only as the deterioration worsens does medical intervention become necessary. In some cases, like the patient another neurocardiologist and I are treating now, the deterioration has reached the point where we must expose a particular nerve bundle and microscopically examine the deterioration, then hopefully be able to correct the deterioration -- if it can be corrected. Frankly, from what my associate and I have been able to determine, our patient has less than a ten percent chance of surviving more than a few days. We have been able to stabilize him enough to the point that we hope to be able to open him up on Thursday, Friday at the latest, to more conclusively examine the damage and determine a course of treatment, if one exists.

You're no doubt wondering where I'm going with this, Mr. Connors. To be exceedingly brief, what Peter has shown me in your research suggests that the advances in nanotechnology sensors and transmission media is perhaps at the point where that technology could be used to make a replacement segment for a nerve bundle. In crude terms, I wonder if it would be feasible to remove a deteriorated segment of a nerve bundle and replace it with a man-made bundle?"

He stopped, apparently waiting for me to answer. I stifled the urge to say, "Not by Thursday," but chose instead to seriously consider what he had said.

"Well, Dr. Klein," I began. "Before I could give you any kind of a satisfactory answer, I'd need to know a great deal more about neuroscience than I do. Right off the top of my head, I'd say that I'd need to understand the physical properties of how neural signals are transmitted from the brain to the various parts of the body. My sense is that a nanotransducer would be needed at both ends of the artificial segment to translate the brain's and organ's neural signal into some form, maybe electrical or optical, that could be successfully carried by some electrical or optical conductor. We'd also have to know how much insertion loss and distortion of the original signal would be tolerable. How much could the brain's original signal be changed and still deliver the critical information to the organ? The neurotransducer patch cord would have to simultaneously, or nearly so, transmit and receive data in both directions. Then, I..."

I was interrupted by his cell phone ringing. He held up an index finger, indicating I should stop talking while he took the call.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 06



"Peter, Mr. Connors, please excuse me, but I've got to go. Mr. Connors, would you be willing to discuss this further with Peter and then later with me and my associate?"

"Yes, of course," I answered. I'd assumed he had already discussed his tentative proposal with Dr. Keller.

Dr. Keller walked from behind his desk and addressed Dr. Klein. 

"David, I'll walk you out to your car. Tom, will you please wait here? I'll be right back."

Drs. Keller and Klein left, and I began to second-guess the wisdom of my impromptu answer to Dr. Klein's problem.

I didn't have to sit and wait more than five minutes. Dr. Keller returned, smiling broadly.

"Tom, are you familiar with Dr. Klein's professional reputation?"

"No, I don't think I had ever heard of him until we were introduced a few minutes ago."

"He is recognized as one of the top three neurocardiological surgeons in the world, and on many of those lists, his name is at the top."

"Did I screw up?" I blurted out to my thesis chairman.

"Screw up?" He paused with a look of surprise when he saw that I was serious. Then he started laughing so hard I thought he was going to have a heart attack himself. "Hell, no, Tom. David paid you, and by the way our engineering department as well, a huge compliment. He said he wished you had chosen medicine rather than engineering as a career. He was immensely impressed with your unwillingness to make a premature and totally unsupported assumption and with your ability to understand his conundrum and begin to identify what you would have to do to address his issue. He also asked why you were still in a master's program rather than a doctoral program. And yes, he was very serious about that.

What David proposed, Tom, is that you and I work closely with his associate to come up with a proposal for a project. He suggested, and I'd completely agree, that such a project would be an excellent doctoral research effort by a promising double-E student."

"I'd like to do that, Dr. Keller, if you think I can handle it. It sounds challenging. Who is Dr. Klein's associate with whom we'd be working? Is he a doctor at the hospital here, too?"

"She, Tom. His associate is also a neurocardiologist here. Her name is Dr. Kimberly Geiler-Callaghan."

I hoped Dr. Keller didn't see any outward signs of my shock, though nearly falling out of my chair might have been a clue. I wondered how Kim would react to working with me on a medical research project. 

"When would we begin?" I asked Dr. Keller.

"Certainly not until after Dr. Klein and Dr. Geiler-Callaghan have resolved the issue with their present patient. But I'd suggest that you begin outlining a draft proposal. Once you have a draft, hopefully within a couple weeks, bring it in and we'll review and revise it as needed."

I thanked Dr. Keller and then excused myself to make it to my first morning class. My only afternoon class was cancelled by the professor, so I went for a swim at the university pool to help clear my head. I hurried back to my apartment to place my 4:15 p.m. call to Sharon Madison as she had requested.

"This is Sharon," she answered rather properly.

"Hi, Sharon. It's Tom Connors returning your call." My equally professional response was to give her an opportunity to keep our call sounding businesslike if she was not alone.

"Can you talk?" she asked.

"Yes, I'm alone at my apartment."

Her voice warmed immediately.

"I thought you might call Sunday or Monday," she said. There was no sign of any irritation in her voice, just a statement.

"I thought about it but decided it might be awkward if you were in the middle of something important where you could not talk comfortably. It's probably better if you call me rather than me calling you, don't you think?" I asked.

"Yes, you're right, of course. I appreciate your discretion, Tom."

"But Sharon, I do want to thank you for Saturday night. The dinner was excellent, and of course afterwards..."

"I have never been fucked so well in my life," she responded directly. "You are un-fucking-believable in bed, young man."

"Thank you, mommy," I said, intending it to be a joking response to her "young man" comment. Or it may have been a Freudian response to her confession to me of having sex with her own son, Teddy. 

"You know, Tom, I rather expected to be totally exhausted Sunday. You really gave me quite a workout, and at my age, I would have expected get up the next day stiff and sore, unrested, and not particularly mentally alert. Actually though, it was just the opposite. I felt ... younger, more alive, like I used to feel twenty years ago after a great fuck. I felt like I had slept like a baby for a good straight eight hours. 

And after the drive home Sunday, the strangest thing happened. 

You remember my telling you that I am negotiating with a realtor there near the university to buy out his business so he can retire? Well, he had sent a draft agreement to me about a week ago for my review. I looked at it, and I'd had my attorney look at it. We both had agreed it seemed like a fair offer and a fairly straightforward agreement. Then I had set it aside, intending to sign it yesterday or today and get it back to him. 

But for some reason, Sunday afternoon after I got home, I reread it, and this time something jumped off the page at me. I called my attorney on Monday and asked him to look at it again. I pointed out my concern to him. The long story short is that we had both missed a very cleverly worded clause that would have ended up causing me to pay nearly seventeen thousand dollars more than I needed to. My attorney admitted he had missed it, but he was really curious about how I had first overlooked it and then spotted it on Sunday. 

I wish I had a good explanation, Tom, but I've noticed that this week, my thinking has been far clearer, far sharper than it's been for a long time. It's as if our Saturday night together turned back time. I even feel younger."

"Well, Sharon, I'd sure like to take credit for those things, but..."

"I'm absolutely convinced it the evening with you that did it. I've masturbated at least once daily since then. Tom, I haven't done that in -- well, I don't remember when. No, there's something about sexing it up with you that changed me somehow. And I really like the feeling. We have got to get together more often, baby.

Anyway, my attorney and I have already contacted the seller and made it very clear to him that my counterproposal will eliminate his conniving clause and that we are willing to accept his original offer, minus the swindle clause. He wants a week or two to think it over, but when I come over there to personally deliver the signed agreement to the asshole who tried to gyp me out of thousands of dollars, I hope that you'll let me take you to dinner again to show you my personal appreciation."

"How could I possibly turn down an offer like that?" I asked.

"Oh, I think we'll both enjoy the evening, Tom. I'll call ahead of time to make sure you'll be available.

By the way, Tom, I ran into Linda in the coffee shop. She really looks good after her divorce." 

"Thinking of making a run on her, Sharon?" I asked with a laugh.

She returned the laugh but didn't directly answer my question. "Since she asks about you a lot, Tom, I'm guessing her interest is more getting your cock than my pussy." She paused. "But, you never know. I'm guessing the former preacher's kid just may be wild in bed. Anyway, baby, gotta go. I'll call." Then she hung up.

The next morning, Thursday, I was only slightly able to concentrate on my one class. I couldn't help but wonder how Kim's patient was doing in surgery. More than once I smiled to myself when I considered that a well-known neurocardiologist, Dr. Kim Geiler-Callaghan, was into some mildly kinky sex with me, a young man half her age. I caught myself recalling Dr. Klein's rather surprising offer for my thesis chairman and me to work with her on a project to integrate nanotechnology into neurocardiology. Before I knew it, Thursday morning was gone. 

I went back to my apartment, put in an hour or so studying, and then drove to Amanda's laboratory. I arrived just before three and was announced by her secretary/receptionist.

"Thank you, Monique. I believe Mr. Connors is my last appointment today, so why don't you take off early. Please lock up on your way out. Go ahead send him in," she directed through the intercom.

I knocked politely on her office door.

"Come in, Tom."

"Hi, Amanda,"

"Have a seat, Tom," she motioned to the chair across the desk from her. "I'm glad you could come today. It's been a bit busy, and I need to relax a bit. You're easy to talk with.

Let's see. Jamie was in this morning for a quick check on her cold. It's amazing, Tom, but her symptoms have completely disappeared, and she's no longer contagious. It may not seem like much, but first it was Lorraine's A-fib and now Jamie's annual cold. And of course, now Kim can orgasm again. There's definitely a connection with their having sex with you, but I confess I can't exactly figure out how fucking with you fights chronic medical conditions. And all of us, including Kim and me, have shown remarkably improved mental acuity. 

We'll talk more about Jamie's concerns about Lorraine's phallus test as a group on -- it looks like Saturday morning now if that's okay with you? Probably about nine?"

"Sure, Saturday morning at nine's fine. What have you heard from Kim? Anything?"

"As a matter of fact, she called this morning shortly after Jamie left. They're not doing the surgery today on her patient. They plan now to start it very early tomorrow morning. It's a very long and tedious procedure, maybe twelve to fifteen hours. Kim's resting today and mentally preparing, so I didn't want to take too much of her time."

"You said you wanted to talk with me today about some redesign on the phallus?"

"Well, maybe redesign. We've always been a bit concerned, I think, that the phallus doesn't really provide an excretory path. Jamie had asked me early on to look into what the medical challenges would in doing that. Then Lorraine raised the question about whether someone with a natural penis can actually feel ejaculate flowing through it and whether there are any sexually stimulating sensations felt as a result.

I wanted to get your thoughts on those things, Tom."

"Well," I began, "My understanding was that the prosthetic penis, if it was practical, would be attached and used in short intervals to restore some sexual pleasure to a man who had lost some or all of his penis to illness or injury. I never really thought that it would become a full-time, fully functional prosthetic penis in the sense of urination and reproduction.

And of course, we've never been able to test the prosthetic on a man. We've only tested it on Lorraine and Kim to perfect some of the technologies. I guess to be blunt, I'd say it's wildly successful as a sex toy, but I'm sure Jamie might not appreciate that particular observation. But still, it is. 

As far as being able to include some sort of excretory tube, an artificial urethra in the phallus, that wouldn't be difficult from a hydraulics design standpoint. There are plenty of materials which could be used to make a tube that would enlarge and constrict to allow continuous flow regardless of whether the phallus was flaccid or erect. It seems to me, though, that in creating a phallus for a man, a reliable interface to connect his real plumbing to the phallus would be more of a medical design issue. 

There are nanosensors that would be able to detect fluid flow in the phallus's tube, but I suspect the bigger problem would be differentiating between fluids. You wouldn't want urine to generate an erection and the sexual stimulation associated with it."

I paused, partially thinking about any other considerations and partially to allow Amanda to reply.

"I went back and looked at both your and Jamie's CT scans and the videos associated with them, Tom. I hoped that single-frame examination of your CT scan on one side and orgasm video on the other might give some indication that either of you felt your ejaculate as it was progressing through your cocks to where it was expelled from your bodies. Unfortunately, the standard frame rate was too slow to resolve it."

"So I guess there's really no way right now to answer that question, is there?" I asked.

"Well, actually there might be," Amanda continued. "It occurred to me that while we can't actually slow down the progression of your orgasm, we might be able to slow down your perception of it enough to let you describe what you're feeling as it progresses."

"I don't understand," I answered honestly.

"During one of your sessions with Lorraine, you agreed to allow her to induce you into a state of enhanced focus and relaxation. Essentially, you allowed her to hypnotize you, though that's a pretty crude and more theatrical term for it.

I wonder if we could do the same thing now. Then while you're in the enhanced state, I'll masturbate you to orgasm and have you describe every sensation you're feeling. In essence, the part of your brain that controls the orgasm would operate a normal speed, but part of your brain that perceives the pleasure would be put in slow motion, slow enough for you to describe the details of your orgasm."

"Have you ever done that before?"

"Yes. Both Lorraine and I have used the technique to extract more detailed information from persons whose conscious memory in real time was unable to pick out the details that we needed for diagnoses. In particular, it can be effective with men who are experiencing otherwise unexplained impotence. But as far as doing it in conjunction with someone being manually masturbated and experiencing an orgasm, I've only done it once. I did it the first time this morning on Jamie. 

Because the technique leaves the subject, that would be you, rather susceptible to suggestion which would skew the reliability of the results, I don't want to discuss her results with you. At least not if you're willing to do it."

"When and how would you do the test?" I asked.

"We can do it now if you're willing. We would go into one of the labs, you would lie on your back on a bed, we would talk until you are in a light state of enhanced focus and relaxation, and I would very gently and slowly masturbate you to orgasm. As I am doing that, you will be describing what you feel right up until the instant you ejaculate. The entire session would last less than 15 minutes and would be recorded on audio and video."

For some odd reason, I asked, "What if I can't get it up or cum?"

Amanda smiled and spoke reassuringly. "Then nothing has been lost, has it? But Tom, believe me when I tell you that I am absolutely certain that will not happen. But I also have to tell you that you will almost certainly find your orgasm to be much less than fulfilling than if you were jerking yourself off. That's because the masturbation technique I will use is intentionally slow in order to let the cognitive side of your brain process and describe what you're feeling. In other words, Tom, when you cum, it won't be very satisfying for you.

And there is something else. I told Jamie this, and I'll tell it to you, too. This procedure has what can be a somewhat alarming side effect -- if you're not expecting it. Because of the way your orgasm will be stimulated, you may find that you're unable to even get an erection for several hours. In fact, your sex drive may appear to be absent. But if that even occurs, I promise this will subside easily in less than 24 hours."

"Obviously Jamie wasn't too concerned about it. She went through with the experiment."

"Oddly enough, Tom, Jamie was even more eager after hearing the warning. She wondered if her biological anomaly would produce the same result as if she were a man. She really has the curiosity of a scientist."

"Well, I'm willing to give it a shot if you are," I answered.

"Fine. Let's go into the lab."

We left her office and walked across the hall into one of her labs. It was really nothing more than a plain, warm small bedroom with a queen-size bed and a nightstand. There was also a small sink, towel dispenser, and wastebasket. Once we were inside, Amanda pointed to another door and explained, "You can go in there and undress, Tom. There is a surgical gown in there for you to put on if you want to. If you do, leave the opening in front. I'll wash up while you're undressing. Oh and Tom, please try to avoid giving yourself an erection until you're back in here and lying on the bed."

I went into the dressing room and removed my clothing. I was reaching for the gown but was overtaken by a rather surprising desire to not put it on, a desire to walk into the lab without any clothing at all. So I did.

Amanda was standing there, but now she was wearing a lab coat over her skirt and blouse. I commented that I was surprised she was not wearing the usual latex exam gloves.

"No, Tom. I'm afraid the gloves may filter out too many of the subtle tactile sensations I will need to feel in order to adjust my touch to measure the progression of your orgasm. In fact, I'm going to put a very small amount of a lotion on my hands to enhance my sense of touch. It will also make it more comfortable for you. If you're ready, please lie down on your back and get comfortable. Please lie with your arms extended downward at your sides, Tom."

She then sat down on the bed beside me and began to use nearly the same monologue Lorraine had used when she hypnotized me. The result was that I was awake and aware of everything going on, however my mind seemed remarkably open and uncluttered. It also seemed as if I were a third person in the room looking back at me lying on the bed. 

At some point I became aware that I had a full erection and was quite aroused. I felt Amanda's fingertips touching my cock and moving along it lightly, but she was not gripping it and pumping it. In fact, there was none of the usual gripping, jerking, or forceful hand pressure, only gentle touches. Shortly after I felt that, she asked me to imagine that I was inside my cock and looking back toward the inside of my body. As I did that, I could see the leading edge of my cum proceeding toward me. I was not surprised or even shocked that I was able to do that. She would ask where it was in my body, then where it was inside my cock. At each point, she asked me what I was feeling. There came a time when I recall saying, "I'm outside my body."

Moments later I heard Amanda's voice, but it sounded different, more like what it had been before I laid down and we started talking. I then became aware of Amanda standing over me with a towel wiping the cum off my body.

"We're done, Tom," she said. "You did very very well."

"I did? I didn't feel much. I sure don't remember cumming."

"Well, you did. I want you to take a few minutes to reorient yourself lying here. When you feel up to it, you can go get dressed. Then come back in here and we'll discuss the results."

She had been right -- I guess. I had cum but hadn't really felt it. I guess I saw it -- more or less -- as if my jism was a slow-moving fluid flow, like white volcanic lava, but I had felt it only slightly, certainly nothing sexually stimulating, as it moved through me. 

After dressing I returned to the lab. Amanda had removed her lab coat and was sitting on the edge of the bed. 

"Tom, I think it was very worthwhile for us to do this with both Jamie and you. 

We know from her CT scans and other tests that Jamie is conclusively a woman even though she was born with a penis and scrotum instead of a vagina and clitoris and has retained them as an adult. Her sexual responses, particularly her orgasmic responses, are a woman's. They are different from yours in nearly all important aspects except one: She ejaculates much as a man ejaculates. Of course, her's contains no sperm. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 07



After the strenuous and pleasantly exhausting sex with Dr. Kimberly Geiler-Callaghan on Saturday afternoon, I had expected to awaken Sunday still tired and maybe even a little sore. Instead, I awoke refreshed and invigorated. In fact, I was so alert that I decided it would be a good day to begin my outline for the project my EE master's chairman had suggested. That project would be work toward my doctorate, and it would be done in conjunction with a neurocardiologist associated with the university's medical school. 

Unbeknownst to my thesis chairman, however, the neurocardiologist was the woman who had been my Saturday sex partner, Dr. Kimberly Geiler-Callaghan. 

I had begun my project outline enthusiastically about 10 a.m., but by noon I felt as if I was floundering around pointlessly. Finally I had to acknowledge that while my intentions were good, I didn't have the foggiest idea how to proceed.

I decided to call Jamie.

"Hi, Tom. What are you up to today?" she asked.

I explained my feeble attempt to begin my project outline. She was very sympathetic and understanding. 

"Look, Tom, unless you've got other plans, why don't you bring your ideas and come on over. A project outline is a project outline, and I've done a lot of them for DoD contracts. And remember, I've already been down that bumpy PhD road. I can tell you for sure that if you take even a basic project outline to Keller, he's going to be impressed. He'll be more than eager to help you flesh it out so that it blends well with your eventual PhD work."

"Thanks, Jamie. But I don't want to mess up your Sunday afternoon."

"Tom, if I'd had any plans, I wouldn't have offered. Actually, I'm glad you called. I've been going back over your information from Lorraine, Kim, and Amanda. Based on what's in their reports and the your videos -- and my own personal experience with you, of course -- I've begun reviewing their reports about your 'gift' from an engineering perspective rather than a social and medical sciences one. There's overlap, of course, but sometimes we engineers approach things from a slightly different perspective.

And as far as your project goes, all we'll probably accomplish today is get you started -- give you something you can carry through Keller's door to impress him. Come on over in about an hour if you're interested."

"Thanks again, Jamie. I really appreciate it. See you in an hour."

I had been so focused on my project outline that I almost neglected to check the weather. The internet weather report surprised me. Today was predicted to be unseasonably warm. Well, that was okay. Cargo shorts and tee-shirt weather is always welcome.

I printed out my disappointingly sparse pre-project notes from the computer and organized them in a file folder, then jumped in the car and headed to Jamie's lab. She had obviously been watching for me, because when I pulled up to park in the public lot in front, she stepped out and motioned for me to drive to the closed gate. She held up a remote control, and the gate opened to give me access to the employee's fenced parking lot under constant video surveillance. The first time I had visited her prosthetic device engineering lab, she told me it wasn't a good idea to leave cars in the lab's public parking lot unattended on weekends. Her lab was not exactly the best section of town.

With my skinny file folder of notes tucked under my arm, I walked up to the employees' entrance. She stepped out wearing short white and tight button-front shorts which failed delightfully to even try to mask her masculine genitalia. Her bulge was obvious, and she made no effort now to hide it from me. It was so pronounced beneath her shorts that I couldn't help but stare -- shamelessly -- at not only her erection but her very shapely and attractively hairy legs, womanly hips, and trim waistline. 

Somewhere beneath the rapidly descending fog of lust I recalled Jamie telling me that unless she was with any of the handful of people who knew about her physical anomaly, she always wore specially tailored clothes to conceal it -- even if she had an erection -- which she clearly had now. She had said that she looked forward to visits with witting friends so she could actually wear what she called "real girl" clothes rather than specially-tailored ones that were feminine but unsexy. I soon concluded that the shorts Jamie was wearing were "real girl" ones and not something specially-tailored. Rather than trying to hide her anomaly, she was trying to accentuate it for me. And was she ever succeeding!

Equally distracting, she was obviously braless under her tight white tee shirt. I didn't recall her breasts being quite so full and shapely, even when we had sex the first time, but surprises are nice. So was the next one.

Before I could drift into complete fantasy, Jamie wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a very close and pleasantly prolonged welcoming hug. The hug was close enough that I could feel my burgeoning erection against hers even though layers of clothing separated us.

Given that just a day earlier Kim and I had fucked to sexual depletion and exhaustion, the rapid onset and intensity of my erection with Jamie came as something of a surprise to me. Not that I was about to object. And clearly, neither was she. Just before breaking our hug, I could swear she gave me a noticeable grind. Another one or two of those and there would have been jism running down my leg and a telltale stain on the front my cargo shorts. Still, I hoped the prominence of my own erection would not offend her.

"Mmmm. Nice to see you, too, Tom," she purred.

Okay, she had not been offended. 

"Come on in. I've got some fresh lemonade if you'd like some." She took me by the hand and led me inside to her private office near the rear of the lab. 

"Thanks, Jamie. You didn't have to go to the trouble just for me, though."

"It was no trouble. Here." She handed the glass of lemonade to me and gestured for me to be seated on the room's couch. She joined me, then she continued. "Now, let's talk about your project. Let me guess. You've hit a wall, right? In fact, you feel like you really don't even know how to start, right?"

She was quite perceptive.

"Actually, Tom, recognizing that early on is a good sign. It means you haven't wasted a great deal of time already. Why do you think you're having trouble getting going?"

That was a question I hadn't considered, so it took me a moment to think through it. Jamie patiently sipped her lemonade and waited quietly for me to answer.

"It's frustrating me. I know the engineering stuff, but it's all the medical stuff, especially the neurocardiological stuff, that I'm clueless about."

Jamie's warm smile was reassuring -- and darned arousing. Then again, with what she was wearing, anything she did would have been arousing. But then I forced my mind to focus on my project rather than being distracted by her tits so nicely accentuated by the tank top.

"You're not clueless at all, Tom. You've simply identified the body of knowledge you don't know but need to learn about. Recognizing what you don't know but need to learn is actually a huge first step. And to your great good fortune, you have two incredibly competent and renowned neurocardiologists -- Kim and Dr. Klein -- who will be very, very eager to not only tutor you but mentor you as well. At the same time, you're going to be educating them with what you know.

You see, Tom, you're not just stepping into your run-of-the-mill PhD program where you are going to bow and scrape before the elevated thrones of self-anointed superior beings. You're going to be an equal partner in a working, important project, not some grad student go-fer. Kim and Klein know their stuff -- neuroscience and cardiology -- but neither of them know the electrical engineering. I guarantee you that they are as concerned about their lack of understanding of applied nanotechnology as you are about neuroscience. That Kim and Klein are already accepting you on a peer level is a huge compliment to you and to the Engineering Department. Together, you guys are very likely going to advance the research and development for both of your disciplines."

Jamie's reassurance was comforting. 

"So I guess what I need to do now is come up with the questions I need to ask Kim and Klein the first time we meet?"

"Yeah, that would be a good start, Tom. But I'd suggest you first run them by Dr. Keller, your thesis chairman. Believe me, he wants this project to succeed, and the more people like him and Klein and Kim you can involve, the more allies you'll be enlisting to invest in your success. That, by the way, is your basic introduction to the political side of academia -- something you'll need to develop once you're a PhD, especially if you consider remaining in the publish-or-perish university environment."

"How about you?" I asked her. 

"Tom, you know I'll do anything I can to help. Probably the best thing I can do right now is give you a lot of encouragement so you don't get distracted." 

With that remark, I couldn't help but look again at the bulge in her tight shorts and then at her nipples poking at her tank top. I made no effort to hide my interest that her encouragement might not be limited to my thesis and the project.

My interest didn't require her to be a mind reader. "There are good distractions and bad ones, Tom," she chided good-naturedly. "Sometimes timing is the only distinction between them."

Then she continued back on topic, barely missing a beat. 

"Down the road, the performance and reliability of the prosthetics I develop will benefit from your work, so to some extent I'm already on board. But it's really important that this project be your work -- and Kim's and Klein's too, of course. Once this is done and they begin referring to you as Dr. Connors, one of the three visionaries who blended medical science with nanotechnological electrical engineering, I want to you to experience the satisfaction you will have rightfully earned."

I was deeply touched by Jamie's sincerity as well as her generosity. 

We talked about my project for a while longer and brainstormed some questions we thought I would need to ask. I hurriedly scribbled notes on the legal pad inside my file folder. Some of them she immediately commanded, "Write that down exactly that way." Others she worked with me to refine. Finally after about an hour and a half, I felt as if I was off to a much better start. 

Jamie agreed that we had accomplished a great deal, so I decided to change the subject.

"You said you had been looking at my 'gift' from an engineering perspective. What's with that?"

She answered with a mysterious grin. "I think your 'gift' may have more than just an incidental connection to the development and evolution of our prosthetic phallus."

Jamie's interjecting just the right amount of mystery into our conversation definitely had my interest.

"Tom, you remember that our prosthetic phallus started out first as little more than a glorified strapless dildo that would feel unusually natural to both the wearer and his or her partner. Particularly when worn by a woman, its features contoured to her mound to put pressure on her specific sexual arousal points. It did give the wearer some pleasure, but it was really still little more than an upscale dildo for her and her partner.

So then you added some nanosensors that could transform the pressures of sexual contact into tiny electrical currents which could be sent to the wearer via the tiny conductive plates in contact with her skin when the phallus was attached with the proper surgical cement. And about the same time you came up with the space-age sealant that expands when an electrical current is applied, so with that we could actually build a phallus that would start out flaccid but become erect just like a real erection as the wearer became more stimulated.

And finally, or at least where we are now, we've added a small set of conductors in the tip of the phallus so that when the wearer is experiencing an orgasm, it will generate a very small current which will be transmitted from the phallus's tip to the partner's G-spot to trigger and intensify her orgasm. And, of course, if they're engaging in anal sex and the partner is a man, the electrified tip may conduct a small electrical current into the partner's prostate. We won't know that until we try it, though.

The whole point of the various iterations of the phallus was to cause the wearer's brain and maybe the recipient's brain, too, to perceive the sensations from the phallus as if they were generated by a real penis."

"So what do you think would improve on the design? Are you thinking of adding some additional sensors or stimulators?" I asked.

"As far as design improvement goes, Tom, I've already done it in one area. 

With Amanda's help, I did a wireframe computer graphic motion study of the differences between men and women's pelvic motions during sexual intercourse. Because of men's and women's different skeletal and muscular structures, a man's pelvic thrusts are different from a woman's. Even with my male genitalia, I still move like a woman because, of course, that's what I am. Since I was born with male genitalia, I've adapted to it throughout my life. Consequently, my thrusts have adapted to what I've always had. 

That got me to thinking about the design and placement of our prosthetic phallus on men and women. 

I looked at quite a lot of videos that showed women fucking other women and also men while wearing a conventional strap-on dildo. I compared those women's thrusts with the men's thrusts and, not surprisingly, found that the women's thrusts when they were wearing a dildo appeared more constrained and certainly more unnatural. 

So then I actually talked with several women who had used strap-ons, and they confirmed what I suspected -- the existing over-the-counter strap-on dildos deliver far less pleasure than hoped to both the wearer and the recipient. In one way or another, all of the women said that the strap-on felt unnatural to them. That's no surprise. To artificially add mass and therefore additional forces to the body where there was none before is bound to have an effect. And when the phallus causes the wearer to engage in an unusual range of motions, one that she has not been born with and become accustomed to, it can create more distraction than pleasure.

So with that information, the wireframe CG motion studies, and the anecdotal input from OTC strap-on users, I made some very slight adjustments in the configuration and positioning of our current 'woman's' version of the prosthetic phallus, the one that Lorraine and Kim will be testing soon with Emily and Marta. If you were to look at Kim or Lorraine wearing the newly modified version, the difference won't be outwardly obvious to observers, but hopefully they will both feel it. In an ideal world, they would both feel as if they had been born with it and had worn it all their lives.

The objective of the adjustments is to allow the fucking motions of a woman wearing the phallus to feel more natural and pleasurable to both her on the giving end and her partner on the receiving end. The slight changes have more to do with heft and position. Overall, the woman wearer's thrust should be feel more natural throughout the stroke, and with more comfort and natural feel to her, she and her partner should experience at least less discomfort and fewer distractions and therefore more pleasure. 

We know from Lorraine's and Kim's comments about the version one phallus that it was a vast improvement over any commercial strap-on. The question now will be if our version two changes add more natural comfort and pleasure or if they make little appreciable difference. I'm also eager to talk with Emily and Marta to see if they notice anything different after being on the receiving end of the new phallus. 

Obviously when the prosthetic phallus is worn by a man, those adjustments would not be included in his phallus. He probably wouldn't need them unless the injury or illness that caused the loss of his original equipment somehow changed his skeletal and muscular structure. But then, we won't know that until we actually test the phallus on a male patient. Even then, it's likely to need very careful initial fitting and occasional adjustment on each different male patient."

"Well, that makes a lot of sense," I commented. "What else?"

"I also began thinking about all of the distinct sensations we feel when we insert our penis into a woman."

Jamie's last comment sounded odd, mainly because she and I had never specifically discussed the obvious -- that even though Jamie was a woman who had been born with a penis and scrotum rather than a vagina, she would have fucked a woman or maybe engaged in oral or anal sex. Consequently, I had never given serious thought to whether Jamie experienced the feelings of sexual pleasure as a man feels them or as a woman does. 

Now I wondered, so I asked. Almost immediately my mind told me I might have been a bit too bold, and I tried to backtrack before she could answer. Her answer was both gracious and reassuring.

"There's no need to be embarrassed or to apologize, Tom. Actually, that's precisely the right question for a research scientist to ask, and it's one I've often thought about myself. In fact, I went further than just thinking about it.

Remember the CT scan that you received while Kim was masturbating you? We did that to map which sections of your brain were involved and how they were involved when you orgasmed? You'll also remember that we've done the same type of CT scans on Lorraine, Kim, and Amanda and others as well? As I think Lorraine has explained to you, based on those scans and some others, we have conclusively determined that men and women orgasm differently. It's more complicated than that, of course, but essentially we can conclusively differentiate between a man's sexual response and a woman's sexual response during orgasm by simply looking at their CT scans. 

I had myself scanned twice, Tom. Once when I was being masturbated by Lorraine and once by Kim. My brain response during orgasm shows conclusively that my sexual responses leading up to, during, and after orgasm are those of a woman. Very significantly, it looks like my penis receives the initial sexual stimulation and sensations more like your's does as a man. It isn't really clear if my brain processes them like a man or a woman, but based on my having sex with you, I think we're getting closer to an answer."

I may have had the most blank stare Jamie had ever seen, because she started laughing.

"If you think you're confused, Tom, imagine how I must have felt when I hit puberty! Think of it this way: Similar sensors but different processor." Her self-deprecating response was disarming. She continued.

"Anyway, as I said Tom, I began thinking about the different sensations both our cocks, yours and mine, feel when we slide it in and out of a woman's pussy. Obviously there's resistance and pressure, but there are other sensations, too. We don't think about it at the time -- it's not like we're keeping a detailed log of 'Okay, this is what I feel now' items, but we are exposed to at least two other sensations that may contribute to sexual pleasure. We feel the warmth and the wetness of our partner's vagina. What we don't know is how much those two sensations contribute to our pleasure. We haven't really measured that and factored it into the phallus design."

"So, are you thinking we need to add temperature and moisture sensors to Lorraine's and Kim's prosthetic phalluses? That would probably require us to upgrade the microprocessor as well. And a recalibration so that those two sensations are proportional to what a real penis feels and the brain perceives," I said. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 07



I was about to go on with my stream-of-thought modifications, but Jamie held up her hand to stop me.

"No, at least not until after they've played with them and used them with Emily and Marta. Let's see what they all say about the current version before we start making changes. If we add too much, we won't really know what is effective and what is extraneous."

"If we were going to do that," I continued, "It seems to me that just like with the other nanosensors we've already included, the positioning and sensitivity of the temperature and moisture sensors would be something we'd need to know, too."

Jamie let a mischievous grin appear.

"Actually, Tom, for once I'm ahead of you on that. I've already done a little experimenting. 

Remember when we were deciding where the sensors needed to be in the present versions? Remember the sleeve I put over your penis to help make those determinations, the one hooked up to the computer?"

How could I possibly forget that! The sleeve she talked about had microsolenoids that gently massaged sensitive spots on my erection, and it had sensors that measured the response. Then the computer mapped my responses to each stimulus. Once Jamie had identified all my cock's hot spots, she eliminated the meaningless ones and looped the good ones into a complete masturbation program. When she ran the program, my cock went from flaccid to arousal to orgasm without any human hand touching me. It wasn't as good as real sex nor was it the same, but it was close enough.

"I do remember," I responded.

"Well, I added temperature and moisture stimulators to the sleeve, Tom. Along with corresponding sensors. Then I mapped my own responses." 

"And...?" I gestured with my hands to encourage her. She seemed hesitant to comment, but finally she spoke.

"Well, my results were not particularly dramatic. The additional temperature and moisture stimulators did seem to add a little sexual stimulation, but it wasn't as much as I had hoped. I think, at best, the results were inconclusive leaning toward meaningless. Kind of disappointing, really. Of course, I am a woman, so the results would possibly be different with a man..."

She trailed off with a suggestive high and looked at me with an unmistakable message.

"Why do I suspect you want me to take the same test you did?" I asked somewhat playfully. Her answer left no doubt I had just been snared. 

"Thank you for volunteering, Tom," she responded quickly. "Why don't we do it now? I just happen to have everything set up in the lab in back. And being Sunday, there's no one here, so it'll just be you and me."

I confess to being intrigued, and Jamie read my acquiescence perfectly. She stood and extended her hand to take mine. Then she led me back into her lab. I admit that while we were walking, I tried to steal glances at her ass in the tight shorts and the bounce in her tits. The walk didn't last long enough to suit me. We soon entered the private patient room in the lab where she picked up an examination gown and instructed me to put it on, obviously with the opening in the front.

"I think I'd rather be naked," I said suggestively, hopefully.

"I'm sure you would, Tom, but then I'm afraid we might get carried away and forget about the test. So for my sake as well as for scientific objectivity, go behind the screen and put on the gown."

When I came from behind the screen, she had wheeled the computer and various attachments alongside a standard hospital bed. She motioned for me to lie down.

After confirming that I was comfortable, she rather impersonally but expertly freed my once again semi-flaccid penis and quickly applied the sleeve. I had hoped her warm, soft hands might linger a bit longer, but Jamie was in her professional engineer mode.

"How do you know it's positioned properly?" I asked.

"I just align this mark with the dorsal vein in the wearer's penis. The elasticity of the carrier will allow the components to remain properly positioned even as your erection expands." she answered professionally. "Now, Tom, just relax and let the sleeve and computer do the rest." 

She plugged a male connector from the sleeve's cable into a female connector on the cable leading to the computer. 

Then she quietly tapped a few keys on the computer keyboard. I heard no other sounds, no buzzing or whirring or any kind of mechanical sounds, but fairly soon I felt my erection becoming harder. Even though I knew that my penis was being gently struck by microsolenoids, it felt more like a very smooth but somewhat mechanical hand stroking me. 

It wasn't an abrupt change, but it seemed to me that the sleeve was ever so slightly warmer. While comfortable, it didn't seem to add any dramatic sexual pleasure. Then after a few more minutes, the sleeve felt warmly damp. I glanced toward Jamie with what was probably a questioning look. She had been alternately watching me and the screen, and she smiled slightly but said nothing.

I was becoming more and more aroused from the sensations being imparted by the sleeve. In fact, I was closer to cumming than I realized. I felt the pre-orgasmic twinge deep inside me, and I uncontrollably thrust my hips in an upward fuck toward the nonexistent person I felt on top of me. I gripped the side rails on the hospital bed, because I knew I needed to resist grabbing my cock and jerking off. 

"Oh, fuck! I'm gonna cum!" I exclaimed involuntarily while trying to will myself to not do exactly that.

The gripping feeling on my erection now felt even more natural, and I looked down to see if Jamie had decided to use her own hand or climbed on top of me to finish me off. She had not. It was only the computer-controlled sleeve that was working its electromechanical masturbatory magic on me. Still, I was able to hold back my orgasm until...

Though my eyes were by now clenched shut to try and fend off the inevitable, I felt Jamie's presence, her weight on top of me, her lips next to my ear though not touching it, her warm breath.

"Cum for me, baby," I heard her whisper in my ear. "Let it go! Shoot your hot cum all over me! I want to cum with you!"

That was all it took. I felt the hot eruption of jism upward into the sleeve. With the afterspurts, it took a few seconds for my breathing to stabilize again. I opened my eyes, blinked to bring them into focus, and looked first upward toward where I had felt the weight of her body. Seeing nothing, I looked over at Jamie. She was staring at the computer screen, still apparently getting useful data from the sleeve enveloping my rapidly shrinking erection.

"That wasn't fair," I said, an obvious reference to her sultry words and hot breath in my ear.

She looked up from the computer with a questioning stare.

"What happened, Tom?" Her voice sounded as if she was sincerely unaware of what she had done to me. "Other than the obvious, I mean," she added with what I might've mistaken for a lecherous smile.

I repeated the words back to her, the words I had clearly heard her speak so closely to me just before I came.

"Tom, I never said anything to you, and I was never whispering in your ear. I've been sitting here focusing on the computer screen throughout your test."

"But it was so clear, so real..." I responded, now less sure of what had happened.

"Give me a second, Tom. Then we can talk." She punched in a few keystrokes on her computer, then sat back and directed her attention to me.

"Now, tell me again what it is you think happened."

I repeated exactly the sensations I had experienced and her words so clearly heard. Or at least I thought I had. After I finished, she looked quite thoughtful, serious.

"Okay, Tom, I think I have a pretty good idea what happened. Look, why don't I get the sleeve off of you. Then it'll take about fifteen minutes for me to collate and analyze the results of your test. While I'm doing that, why don't you grab your clothes from behind the screen there. If you want, you can go in the employee locker room and shower off before you get dressed. You and I are the only ones here today. There are towels and washcloths in the linen closet in there. When you come out, come back into my office. I'll go over the test results with you on the computer there."

Her suggestion had a remarkably calming effect, so I readily agreed. Jamie put on a pair of disposable latex gloves, unplugged the sleeve from the computer, removed the sleeve from my now very flaccid penis, and dropped the sleeve into a zip-lock bag with a red biohazard symbol and label. She gave me a quick, sideways glance when my flaccid cock gave one last post-orgasmic twitch at the touch of her gloved hand. 

After I closed the hospital gown and sat up on the edge of the bed, Jamie set aside the biohazard bag and said, "I'll clean and sterilize this later." Then she returned to the computer. I picked up my clothes from behind the dressing screen and walked into the bathroom to shower and dress.

When I returned to her office, Jamie looked very much at ease, relaxed. She motioned for me to sit in the chair next to her's so we could both see the computer screen.

"Before I tell you what the data suggests, Tom, why don't you give me your first impressions of the test and the results."

While showering I had assumed she would ask something like that, so I was prepared to answer.

"The sleeve didn't feel like a mechanical object, but it didn't feel like a real hand or maybe a pussy either. Operationally it didn't feel exactly like when I jerk myself off, but it was fairly close. I could tell I was getting close, but when you got on top of me and whispered in my ear, that's what put me over the edge." 

"So did the sleeve feel more like you were masturbating or fucking?" she asked.

Until then I hadn't really conclusively made that distinction during or after the test. I thought about it, then responded, "I guess I'd have to say neither. The added moisture and temperature sensors and stimulators didn't really translate into significantly more reality. I was able to sense the warmth and moisture, but it didn't really add that much. Sorry." 

I hoped Jamie would not be too disappointed by the results of my test. Her response surprised me.

"Excellent!" she said enthusiastically. "First of all, Tom, I didn't get close to you, let alone get on top of you. And I didn't whisper anything in your ear. That's the truth. I never left my chair here in front of the computer. I never touched you, and I never said a word to you until after you ejaculated."

"But it was your voice. I could feel your hot breath. And I swear it felt like you were riding me, rubbing our cocks between our bodies."

"Oh, I have absolutely no doubt that your brain perceived exactly those sensations, Tom. In fact, I'm thrilled that they seemed so real to you. 

You may recall I've discussed the 'phantom pain' an amputee often feels -- as if the part amputated is still there. You may have had a similar experience but instead of pain, you were hearing and feeling sexual sensations as if you had a real partner. Your brain was filling in gaps that needed to be filled to complete your sexual experience, to make it more real for you. Hopefully that's exactly what would happen with a man who was necessarily wearing the prosthetic phallus to be able to experience sex again. We can only hope that our prosthetic would stimulate a man wearing it while having sex with a real, live partner to the point that it very closely resembles or even enhances the sexual pleasure he once felt before the prosthetic became necessary.

Now, as Lorraine and Kim and I have explained to you before, men and women orgasm differently. More accurately, our brains interpret sexual stimuli differently so we experience orgasm differently. Our earlier CT scans graphically display that, and comparing your and my penis sleeve data bear it out."

"So it sounds to me like what you're suggesting, Jamie, is that if the phallus is being made as a prosthetic to restore a man's ability to have and enjoy intercourse, we should put the new sensors and processor in. In that case, they might actually add to the quality of his experience. But if it's being made for a woman so she can just use it as a sex toy or experience sex as closely as possible to what a man might feel, we wouldn't put the new sensors and processor in hers?"

Jamie looked shocked. "Wow! Now I understand why Kim and Keller both wish you had gone into medicine rather than engineering, Tom. That is exactly what I believe the data shows."

Her explanation had triggered a thought and before I could think it through, I just shot from the lip.

"From what you and Lorraine and Kim have told me, Jamie, I wonder if it's possible that everyone's brains may have both male and female compartments, at least as far as sexual pleasure is concerned. What turns me on as a man may not be the same as what turns you on as a woman -- even though you have a penis instead of a clit and vagina. So it stands to reason that my man's brain might fill in gaps -- in this case, to hear and feel what I wanted to in order to have a satisfying orgasm. The phallus has to be engineered for the sexual pleasure gender of the intended wearer, not for the reproductive gender of the intended wearer."

"That's not a bad theory at all, Tom," she nodded appreciatively. "And it might also help explain your 'gift.' We've been focused so much on the prosthetic phallus, we've neglected trying to understand your 'gift.' But the development of the prosthetic phallus may have taken us full circle back to it -- your 'gift' I mean. 

Lorraine, Kim, Amanda, and I tentatively subscribe to the theory that women's and men's brains respond differently to sexual stimuli. However, we have also discussed among ourselves the possibility that some elements, some components, of both genders are in each person's brain. In other words, a man's brain has some female components and a woman's has some male components. Very early in our individual development, almost certainly during early fetal development, the distinction between the two becomes greater, usually more defined. I don't want to characterize it as a definable barrier -- just that there is some sort of divergence. Either the male portion or the female portion becomes dominant over our individual sexual behavior. The thing is, the CT scans show that male and female orgasms appear somewhat juxtaposed depending on whether the subject is male or female."

"I don't see how that helps explain my 'gift,'" I responded honestly.

"We're not absolutely sure either, Tom. Based on your observed behaviors during sex in the lab and in your CT results, what we theorize is that your brain somehow establishes an external communication path with your sexual partner's brain. But beyond that, your brain may also have established an internal communication path between its own male and female sections -- assuming those paths really do exist as we theorize. 

Your brain's ability to exercise unconscious or subconscious control over the moment, intensity, and duration of your orgasm to coincide with your partner's seems to support our theory of some psychophysiological communication both with your partner and inside your brain. In your CT scan, in addition to seeing what we would expect in the 'male' location in your brain, we were also seeing some unexpected activity in the 'female' location. We didn't think much of it -- pretty much wrote it off to noise."

"Maybe that's what Lorraine meant when she said 'synchronicity?'" I interjected.

"Yes. And the evidence suggests she chose precisely the right word. Some people might jump to the conclusion that with your 'gift,' you can somehow actively control your partner's mind, but we think that rather than actively controlling your partner's mind, your 'gift' allows you to passively synchronize with it. Once you're in synch with your partner's sexual rhythm, you subconsciously adjust until the moment of orgasm in your partner. Your brain senses that, and you cum as well. Of course, proving it to a scientific certainty is -- well, we're not even really close to that," Jamie answered. 

"So isn't that just a different way for you to say that I really may be bisexual?" I asked.

"Tom, I can see how you might conclude that, but no, not at all. Your CT scans clearly and conclusively show that you are a heterosexual male. Based on the measurements and observations we've been able to record and analyze, we are quite certain your preference is indisputably for a woman as a sexual partner for both pleasure and reproduction. And regardless of your partner's outward physiology and even appearance, your brain makes the critical distinction rather quickly, although not immediately."

"That could help explain why I'm able to have sex with you, Jamie. But why back in college did I actually get aroused kissing Stephanie when I thought she was a woman? And why did Lorraine's penile polygraph show I became aroused when she showed me pictures of transsexual men wearing women's swimsuits?"

"Reasonable questions, Tom. And the explanation I just gave you about what we theorize your brain's intercom system to be helps answer all of them. 

Rather than using any distinctly sexual characterization such as 'bisexual' to describe your behavior, it's probably better to use a more culturally neutral term like 'adaptable.' In our view, that refers to your brain's unique and remarkable ability to clearly distinguish male from female partners but to go further and mentally interlace your own male responses with your partner's dominant female responses. We doubt that interlacing would or even could occur in your case if your partner's dominant responses were male.

What we can't even begin to address, Tom, is how you would respond in a sexually provocative situation with a man whose physiology and psychology have been surgically and chemically modified and adapted so he has effectively become what he wants to be and what his brain is telling him he really is -- a woman. We haven't a clue what his CT scan would reveal. It would be an interesting study, though. Maybe someday we'll be able to CT- or FMRI-scan a man who has gone through all of the physical, chemical, and emotional changes and has become a woman in every respect possible. Unfortunately, for that set of scans to be most meaningful, we would need to have scanned the person long before he began the process to make the change. Before and after scans for comparison.

Anyway, to answer your questions directly, Tom -- and of course, this is all very theoretical -- you are comfortable having sex with me because I really am a woman. Your brain recognizes that and adapts your sexual responses to comfortably accommodate both my female brain and my male genitalia. You adapt to your woman partner. That may not be as subliminal as we surmise. Skeletally and behaviorally, I am a woman as well, not a man. Aside from my male genitalia and of course my inability to reproduce, I am in every meaningful way a sexual woman. And at the risk of reinforcing your concern that you may bisexual -- which I reiterate, you most certainly are not -- I suspect that you may even find our mutual masturbation sessions to be as arousing and satisfying as if I had a pussy rather than a penis and we were fucking conventionally. 

You are sexually attracted to me because I am a woman, and my anomalous anatomy may actually contribute to that attraction simply because your brain knows I am a woman. With your brain confidently confirming that I am a woman, some sexual part of you may actually be stimulated beyond normal because I have a cock. It's not that you want to handle a man's penis; it's very simply the thought of a woman with different equipment -- a fully functional penis in my case -- is very arousing to you. You're turned on by reality rather than turned off by cultural proscriptions. That shouldn't alarm you, Tom, because it isn't at all unusual. For example, you would be surprised at the number men and women are turned on by partners who are amputees or who have other physical anomalies.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 07



When you met Stephanie for the first time, your interpersonal communication had not yet gone far enough and been refined enough for your brain to conclusively determine her -- his -- true gender. Your male brain's preliminary assessment was that Stephanie really was a woman until his signals began to alert your brain differently. And Tom, we think the intercommunication between your brain and Stephanie's probably preceded your feeling her -- his -- erection. Your feeling his hardness likely confirmed what your brain had already processed, and it began to adapt to the reality of his maleness. That subconscious adaptation is most likely why you were not angry at Stephanie or repulsed when you found out she is a man. It's probably your brain's adaptability in processing conflicting gender signals that made it easy for you to remain friends with Stephanie. You ultimately recognized that and easily adapted to Stephanie in both her actual biological and personally preferred gender identifications. 

Part of your 'gift' may be your brain's ability to automatically adapt to gender differences while overcoming cultural differences. You may tolerate and adapt to gay or bisexual men's traits, characteristics, and even sexual signals more quickly and easily. It doesn't mean you want to engage in gay or bisexual conduct with them; only that you are not culturally conditioned to be repulsed by it to the point of outward rejection. It's entirely possible that your interpersonal communication with them sends that signal in a very accepting and comforting way, so you and they can interact comfortably but nonsexually. No sexual pressure equals better communication and more comfortable interaction. 

And as for your arousal by the photos of transexual men wearing women's swimsuits -- again, you were looking at two-dimensional images of people with whom you'd never had any personal contact. In the images, they looked like attractive women. Based on that very limited information, your brain was inclined to conclude 'woman' rather than 'man'. I predict you would have exactly the same reaction if we were to show you images of women wearing very tight, form-fitting swimsuits that emphasized the prominence of their mounds."

Her answers made sense, but they also caused me to directly ask a nagging question I had tap-danced around before.

"But Jamie, I'm still not clear how you and I really enjoy having sex with each other?"

Once again, Jamie's quick and logical answer suggested she had been expecting me to ask it for quite some time.

"That goes back to Lorraine's explanation of the effect our culture has on our perception of sexual pleasure, Tom. We've both been conditioned throughout our lives to believe that heterosexual pleasure depends on a man being able to insert his penis into a woman's vagina. If something is missing or is physically impossible, we're expected to experience less enjoyment. Culturally, in fact, we may even be programmed to experience guilt instead. And any guilt feelings can quickly and effectively suppress pleasurable ones.

But the reality, Tom, is that sexual pleasure depends far less on being tied to cultural expectations to put Tab A into Slot B than on all of the other cues and sensations we feel to become aroused and then to orgasm. That's why many couples can achieve sexual satisfaction through mutual masturbation or oral sex -- even anal sex. 

In our case, yours and mine, we have found that all of the touch and sound sexual cues in conjunction with mutual masturbation and frottage can be as satisfying as penetration. My orgasms with you are more intensely satisfying than ones I've ever had with other women and any other man. I believe that your 'gift' triggers all of the sexual stimulation I would feel if I had a clit and pussy. Your 'gift' may be establishing intercommunication with that part of my brain that has been dormant but would have more fully developed if I had a clit and pussy instead of a penis. It awakens and arouses the clit-vagina sensations dormant in that part of my brain and allows them to blend with the penile sensations I have actually and naturally felt since puberty.

That's something I've discussed with Kim, Lorraine, and Amanda. Because I was born with a penis rather than a clit and vagina, I wondered if my sexual sensations received from my penile stimulation more closely resembled what a man feels. Since it isn't as if there's been a lot of scientific studies to help answer that, they were curious, too. The first time I had sex with you, that question was answered -- well, sort of answered.

The sensations I recalled after my first orgasm with you, Tom, were distinctly different than what I had experienced during prior orgasms. When I discussed this in detail with Kim, Lorraine, and Amanda, they were astonished. What they all concluded was that when you and I have sex, my penile sensations -- or rather what my brain receives and then processes as penile sensations -- are almost identical to what they experience as women with clits and vaginas."

"I'm not sure I understand," I responded honestly.

"Simply put, Tom, when you and I have sex, it apparently feels exactly like your cock is inside me and what I feel is exactly what any other aroused woman feels from her vulva, clit, and G-spot being stimulated. Do you understand? When we're having sex, for the first time in my life, it feels to me like a man's cock, your's, is inside me! But when I'm masturbating or with another woman, it goes back to feeling what I've felt before. Oddly enough, both are quite pleasurable. I guess another way to put it, Tom, is that thanks to your 'gift,' I may be getting additive sensations from both male and female orgasms."

"So if I understand you correctly," I said, more thinking out loud than anything, "You're saying that when you and I are having sex, your brain tells you that you are feeling exactly the same things you would feel if you had a clit and vagina rather than a penis?"

"If we're right, Tom, yes, but in addition to the other sensations I've felt all my sexual life. But that's only when you're my sex partner. Consequently, with you I perceive sexual sensations exactly like any other woman, just as if I had been born with a vagina and clit. You, and only you, have been able to give me the sexual pleasure that my anatomical anomaly has denied to me -- until now. So what I said earlier about my cock receiving stimuli the same as yours is probably correct, but there's a big difference. When you and I are having sex, my brain's processing those stimuli treats them exactly as if they were being received by the clitoris and vagina I don't have. 

Our assumption, Tom, supports what I said before: Your brain quickly differentiates between a man and a woman when it begins its assessment of potential sexual partners for you. That further supports our conclusion that you are a heterosexual man, albeit a hetero man with a remarkable facility for adaptability. But even more importantly, it seems to suggest that when you are having sex with a woman, your brain is quietly guiding you to identify and reinforce her womanliness, her sexuality as a woman. That multiplies her sexual pleasure as well." 

"Really?" I was both pleased and still a bit incredulous that the sex Jamie and I shared could be as great as it was for both of us. 

"That shouldn't come as a surprise to you, Tom. If you recall one of your first meetings with Lorraine, you talked about your first heterosexual experiences while you and another high school senior -- Linda -- mutually masturbated each other under a blanket in the car on dates. While you would have preferred to go all the way with her, she didn't want to. Lorraine believes your brain adapted quickly and easily to Linda's reasonable restriction, and that gave both of you not only the ability but also the freedom to fully and completely enjoy mutually masturbating to orgasm. With the pressures associated with teenage coitus removed, you and she both found that your mutual masturbation -- along with your other kissing and touching -- resulted in your both having very pleasurable orgasms which were just as satisfying as if you had actually fucked." 

"So does any of this explain why I went to Lorraine in the first place -- because I wasn't able to get and keep a hard-on with certain women?"

"Maybe -- if our theory is proven correct. It may be that while you were physically attracted to a woman to the point of becoming sexually aroused, she was not similarly attracted to you. That's not particularly earthshaking, of course. Unfortunately, some women simply can't resist the ego satisfaction of being able to turn a man on even when they are not interested in consummating a sexual relationship. So they lead him on until the man reaches the point of wanting to have sex. Then they shut him down. Arguably, they derive some perverse sexual pleasure from denying it to him. The woman, not the man in that case, is the one with the problem.

In your case, Tom, it may be that the theorized interpersonal neural communication between you and the woman long precedes your reaching the point of full arousal. At the point your brain correctly concludes she's not interested, your brain simply diminishes your sexual drive to the point that you go limp. You were consciously disappointed, thinking there was something wrong with you, when in fact your brain was processing signals from her that your conscious mind had not yet received or had simply refused to accept. 

In that respect your 'gift' may really be doing you a favor. It may be helping you to resist a force some men refuse to overcome -- making unwanted sexual advances on a woman. Instead, you and the woman find some mutually acceptable accommodation the may give you both at least some level of sexual satisfaction while comfortably avoiding an unpleasant confrontation. Your mutual masturbation with Linda would be an example. If you had tried to force her to let you fuck her, she would have resisted, and both of you would have been deprived of a great deal of masturbatory pleasure and satisfaction. 

Of course, Linda went to college and got married, but I'd bet that she has very vivid and even arousing memories of the sex she did have with you. If she were ever to divorce or decide to have a sexual fling outside her marriage, I'm certain you would be the first person she would think of. It would not be at all surprising to learn that even while having sex with her husband, she is occasionally fantasizing about you."

Naturally, I didn't tell Jamie that was almost precisely the signal Linda had already been giving my mother's friend, Sharon Madison. 

"You're sure you're an engineer and not a psychologist like Lorraine?" I asked jokingly and with a very visible smile. 

Jamie returned my smile and answered, "Well, Tom, as you might imagine given my rather unique genital structure, not to mention my keen interest in developing user-friendly and comfortable hi-tech prosthetics, I've spoken with more than a few behavioral scientists during my lifetime. And contrary to the conclusions the pop psychologists on television might draw, the real psychologists seem to believe that I'm more 'normal'" --she emphasized with some air quotes-- "than most of their supposedly 'normal' patients. Of course, what they were really saying to me is just what I've said to you: We've both adjusted very well to what we are, even if we don't understand how and why we got that way. We both accept what we are. And that may be the least complicated answer to your question about how we can enjoy having sex with each other."

"Speaking of adjustments, when do you think Lorraine and Emily and then Marta and Kim will start testing their new phallus? And how do you think the tests will go?"

"Lorraine is coming to the lab tomorrow for her final fitting. Then she will take hers with her. I imagine it will take Lorraine some time to adjust the phallus's programming for maximum pleasure without any unexpected side effects. 

But, I'm absolutely sure that Emily will be ready to go whenever Lorraine is," Jamie answered. 

Her certainty about Emily's readiness caught me off guard. 

"What makes you so sure about Emily," I asked.

Jamie gave me a fleeting "wake up and smell the coffee" look. 

"Tom, didn't you notice how Emily jumped at the chance to volunteer to cause the prosthetic phallus to become erect when we showed it mounted on a base in the lab? When we were projecting the waveform outputs from it onto the screen? If we hadn't told her she could let go of it, she would have started hand-jobbing it right then and there." Jamie started laughing.

"You're kidding," I responded. I hadn't seen the intensity of Emily's reaction as Jamie had. When Jamie realized I was honestly surprised, she patiently explained.

"No, Tom, I'm very serious. In fact, I was so shocked by her uncharacteristic response, I talked privately with Emily after that. I really wanted to find out what had caused her to react the way she did.

What I learned is that the prosthetic phallus felt so natural to her, she was actually getting zoned in on it. By that I mean, if she had been in private, she might have brought herself to orgasm simply by stroking the demonstration phallus mounted on a base on the table. She said she could feel it responding to her."

"But that's impossible," I replied. "That model of the prosthetic didn't even have the electrified tip in it. Other than going from flaccid to erect and hard while she stroked it, it couldn't have been sending any kind of stimulating signal back to Emily -- and certainly not electrically through her hand."

"That was my first reaction, too, Tom, but now I'm really not so sure. I know we did not design it that way, but ..."

"But the phallus is just a lump of electrified plastic. It can't really have any personal qualities," I interrupted.

"Well, I know what you're getting at, Tom, but I'm going to have to somewhat disagree with you. 

It's true that a person seeing it and handling it for the first time without knowing what and who was behind its design would not have any context for ascribing personal qualities and attributes to it -- other than its ability to become erect as it is being handled, of course. But, the demonstration phallus mounted on the base was modeled after a real penis, Tom. Yours. When I made the models, I made one modeled after mine and one modeled after yours. Yours was the one that I chose for the demonstration. 

I think it's entirely possible that even though Emily has never actually had sex with you, her mind has. In fact, I'm sure of it. I certain she has masturbated herself to orgasm fantasizing having sex with you, though she didn't come right out and say so. Consequently, she has begun her own process of adaptation. 

Before she wrapped her hand around the model in the lab's conference room, her rational, disciplined, conscious mind told her it was, as you so aptly put it, just a lump of electrified plastic. But when she actually engaged it, I believe that her subconscious sexual signals sent a different and much stronger message -- that it was really you she was stroking. That's why she was into it so quickly. She had not expected to become sexually aroused, so she was mentally unprepared to resist arousal. Her arousal took her completely by surprise. It was so sudden and powerful that it made her semi-oblivious to her setting and the people around her."

"But I've barely even talked with Emily, let alone dated her or anything even remotely sexual."

"True enough, Tom, but if our theory of the neural communicative nature of your 'gift' is accurate, you may have been sending sexual signals to her even before you met her in person. And judging from her responses, I'd say she has been receiving and processing them. Emily certainly has more than ample context to associate what was in her hand with the man sitting across the conference room table from her. You."

I thought back to when Jamie had first asked me to consider seeking legal counsel from Marta. It was becoming clearer to me now.

"You mean through all of the material and videos I have given you and Lorraine with permission to show them to Marta and Emily." 

"Exactly, Tom! Think about the detailed information you revealed about your sexual stimulations and partner preferences in all that material. Obviously we've all watched the videos, including your masturbating. 

You become very aroused by kissing -- much more aroused than many men. Remember that Marta is a skilled practitioner of shifuku, the historic adaptation of Asian women to bring other women to orgasm just by focused kissing and touching but without genital contact. She has practiced that as foreplay with Emily, so in Emily's mind she or Marta could bring you to orgasm merely by kissing you. Emily's ability to envision stroking you to orgasm and her own subsequent orgasm is intensified by her shifuku interaction with Marta. 

And by the way, Marta has become extremely interested in your masturbatory sex with Linda in high school. With Marta's intense understanding and training in shifuku, she believes that your 'gift' may be a heretofore undocumented male manifestation of it. 

As she explains it, shifuku is really an adaptive process that some Japanese women developed to achieve sexual satisfaction that their male partners were unable or unwilling to provide. Since the women would be shunned if they were caught touching each other in obviously sexual ways, they developed a way to focus all those forbidden sexual sensations into an act that could be performed fully clothed and with hardly any after-signs if they were interrupted. Shifuku was their adaptation.

Imagine being able to bring your partner to a full and satisfying orgasm by only fingertip and tongue-touching of the face and neck areas and by aggressive and deep tongue kissing and verbalizing. That requires both partners to be mentally focused and synchronized with each other to a degree that is difficult to explain. If you think about it, that sounds similar to your 'gift'. 

Marta was even more convinced of the similarity between your 'gift' and shifuku after watching the video of Kim masturbating you while you were having the CT scan during orgasm. More accurately, it was Kim's own completely spontaneous orgasm in conjunction with yours that shocked Marta and suggested to her that your 'gift' may be a male version of the shifuku it took Asian women generations to develop. Kim never touched herself while she was stroking you, but the video clearly shows -- and she confirmed it -- that she experienced a strength-draining orgasm when you shot your load into the air. Marta watched that particular video several times, I might add, so her interest in watching you masturbate may not have been entirely 'professional.'

But let me continue.

Like many men, you are aroused by bisexual women. Because of your own 'gift,' your adaptability if it is that, you might actually be more aroused by bisexual women than other men are. In case you're wondering, that's not a bad thing at all. If anything, it would intensify your own pleasure because in addition to achieving a male orgasm while watching two bi women, your 'gift', your adaptability, might also allow you to vicariously experience a certain amount of the pleasure we feel as women.

You prefer women who are older than you. That may be a preference for our intellectual maturity as much as for our physical and emotional maturity. But of course that preference is not one-sided. Some older women prefer younger men. In some cases, we want you because of your sexual stamina and endurance. Some women are trying to cling to the illusion of eternal youth for themselves, and sexually seducing younger men helps them preserve their own youth. And in more mature women than you might think, some are fulfilling a sexual fantasy to have sex with a younger relative such as a nephew, cousin, or even son. 




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 07



You prefer women who are sexually aggressive and vocal during sex. You like clear sexual signals without ambiguity. For emotionally strong, self-assured women, your willingness to let them take charge initiating the sexual contact between you is an aphrodisiac. But after letting us initiate the encounter, your male dominance in the session brings us to exceedingly strong orgasms every time. Your partners likely find your change to be a compliment to our abilities to arouse you sexually. In our minds we probably see that it was our sexuality that brought out the latent animal sexual instinct in you. 

And you prefer natural women, women who do not enhance our body parts with chemical injections, and we are unashamed or uninhibited by our body hair and allow it to grow. Your willingness and even eagerness to accept us exactly as we are just reinforces your attractiveness to us.

All of your preferences describe Lorraine, Kim, Amanda, Marta, and Emily to a tee."

"And you, too?" I interjected. It came out as an unintended question.

"Yes, Tom, me too. So don't be surprised that Emily and Marta are as sexually attracted to you and deeply aroused by you as Lorraine, Kim, Amanda, and I are. We all share the traits that you seek in a sexual partner. You and they could not have known what effect your material would have on either or both of them.

But getting back to Emily's reaction in the conference room -- you've never seen Emily wearing anything other than loose-fitting casual clothes that cover her up, have you Tom? So you may not have thought much about what might be underneath them?"

"No, I guess I just wasn't paying attention to her."

"Well, Tom, maybe you weren't doing it consciously, however I suspect your brain was picking up cues in much the same way Emily picked up sexual information about you from all Lorraine's material. 

To most men, men without your 'gift,' Emily comes across as a real plain Jane with no flair, no style, no sexuality. And that's exactly the image -- sexual minimization bordering on suppression -- she works to project when she's working in Marta's law practice. She doesn't want to be a distraction either in the office or when she's helping Marta in court. You might be surprised at how hard she has to work to not be attractive to men or women."

"How do you know so much about her?" I asked.

"I've gotten to know her quite well, Tom. What you've seen most of the times we've met with her is not the real Emily, at least not her sexual side. The real Emily slipped and almost revealed herself with the phallus in the lab."

I thought back to Emily's face, really the only part of her body I had ever seen not clothed. She has very fair skin but with a healthy glow. She always wears eyeglasses with thin gold wire frames but bigger lenses. The glasses and her fair skin emphasize her dark and rather thick eyebrows, neatly kept but not the pencil line-thin sculpted ones so many women seem to want. And there is that faint, easily overlooked line of darkness of hair just above her upper lip. Since she doesn't wear makeup, and has perfect white teeth and a lovely smile, she would certainly qualify as natural. She keeps her black curly hair short, and it always seems to need a brush or comb. Some would probably describe her as nerdy-looking. Yes, Jamie was probably right. It's entirely possible that Emily may even have to consciously work at not being sexually attractive.

Jamie continued. 

"I'm not sure what we'll hear when we interview Lorraine and Emily after they have sex while Lorraine was wearing her new phallus. We might hear very scientific, objective, and frankly, almost boring responses. Both Lorraine and Emily are consummate professionals, and even though they're both bisexual, their approach to this test of the new phallus could well turn out to be more clinically detailed than sexually fulfilling.

Or one and maybe both of them might be so consumed by the sexual experience that neither of them remembers much about it -- at least not much of technical interest to us in improving the phallus. Then again, that would be a meaningful comment itself, wouldn't it?

If anything, it may be Lorraine who succumbs to the sexual experience. Remember, at first she said she had really never given any thought to what it would be like to experience sex as a man. But then, after her first experience with our version one phallus, she said she might have to rethink that. I think we'll probably discern that Lorraine will experience more pleasure than she might have expected.

Emily, on the other hand, well... She has cultivated her external appearance of immunity to sex. That may be so embedded in her psyche, I don't know how much she will be able to let go enough during her sex session with Lorraine. And since we really don't know how the phallus on Lorraine is going to feel to her, it's entirely possible that Emily may end up just going through the motions but without much pleasure with Lorraine. 

But the materials we used to construct the phallus were be as close to human-feeling as possible. The outer 'skin' has remarkably similar elasticity, texture, and other qualities so that it feels and behaves like a real human penis. It's not difficult to understand why Emily was aroused by its feel even though it was clearly a model.

Then too, it's also possible that Lorraine's phallus might be so perfectly tuned to her own body and brain that Emily will fuck like a rabbit rather than a scientist." 

I tried to process what Jamie had just explained.

"What about Kim and Marta?" I asked. "Kim is a medical doctor and Marta is an attorney. Won't their responses be even more professional and observational?"

"Ah, that would be a logical assumption, but I think that's much less likely." Jamie responded thoughtfully. "Kim and Marta are, each in her own way, already borderline hypersexuals. 

Remember, for a long time Kim has actually wanted to feel what it would be like to have sex as a man. For her, that desire is considerably stronger than the benign curiosity some women and men feel when they wonder what it would be like to have sex as the other gender. On top of that, Kim was unable to orgasm for about 20 years until you came along with your 'gift' and restored her ability to cum. And she eagerly committed adultery with you to do it. 

As Kim said she told you, she has fantasized about having sex with her own son. Though she hasn't mentioned it, it would not be too surprising if sometime she also acknowledges a latent sexual attraction to her daughter, Sarah. So couple her unconcealed desire to fuck as a man does with the sensations of the prosthetic phallus and with her recently renewed orgasm-ability, and voila! You have a woman with diminished inhibitions and a supercharged sex drive.

Marta's intense sexuality comes from her learning and refining shifuku from her Japanese mother."

"But how did she learn it without..." I started to ask.

"...without engaging in it ... and being brought to orgasm by her own mother?" Jamie laughed a little. 

"Tom, both Marta and her mother enjoyed it very much. And it wasn't like here in the US where parent-offspring sexual contact would land someone in jail. Marta said her father knew. He even spied on them. He didn't know they had seen him jerking off while he watched. Eventually, Marta and her mother allowed themselves to fondle and finger and overtly sexually satisfy each other. They knew Marta's father could never do or say anything about what his wife and daughter were doing -- it would have humiliated him and brought question upon his own manhood. Their insurance policy against him exposing their forbidden sexual pleasure with each other was that they had seen Marta's father jerking off while watching Marta and her mother. Marta is sure that her mother privately and discretely told her father they had seen him jerking off while watching them. Given her mother's prominence on the stage, it is likely he was persuaded to keep his mouth shut -- and probably allowed to keep watching them.

Of course in modern times, to the liberated Asian women like Marta, sexual freedom is limited pretty much only by their own self-imposed restrictions rather than by dominating men. Many of them have been westernized to the point that they are completely free. Those like Marta who were taught shifuku and who are also sexually liberated are quite often almost too sexual for male partners. If you've ever watched Japanese porn, the women are quite often portrayed as whiny submissives engaging in sex with men. That's because the porn is made by men for men in order to culturally reinforce the men's imagined sexual superiority. In the real world, nothing could be further from the truth. 

The women like Marta who were initiated into shifuku but who now are culturally free and able to completely display their sexuality tend to sexually overpower their male partners. As much as these women know every one of their partner's sexual nerve centers and exploit that knowledge to its fullest, they are also mistresses of manipulation to induce their lust-blinded partners to respond in kind."

An odd look crossed Jamie's face, almost as if she were briefly somewhere else.

When she looked back at me and noticed my expression, she read it perfectly.

"Yes, Tom. Marta and I have had sex. In fact the first time we did it, I almost collapsed after experiencing one of her shifuku foreplay-induced orgasms when I fucked her." Jamie paused briefly and looked deeply into my eyes before she continued. "But in spite of Marta's truly indescribable talent and skill, even she wasn't able to make Kim cum. Only you were able to to that. 

In fact, I was observing Marta and Kim together before you were in the picture, and Marta actually lost control and drove herself to orgasm while trying unsuccessfully to induce one in Kim. Marta's shifuku focuses every conceivable part of her mind on bringing her partner to orgasm, and when she was unable to that with Kim, Marta's own brain appeared to have gone into sexual feedback -- almost like Marta's own sexual stimulation directed at Kim was being reflected back at her -- and she orgasmed very explosively. Marta's response to that was the same response we've all had -- except Marta and Emily of course -- to sex with you: We all descend into a very pleasurable post-orgasmic coma. That's just how strong your 'gift' is; its effect defies adequate description. 

And that is also why Marta is convinced that your 'gift' may be a variant of her shifuku. It fascinates her, because none of the admittedly little literature about shifuku ever mentions it being manifested in males -- only females."

"So you think that both Kim and Marta will be so enveloped by their own pleasure that neither may be able to remember much about the phallus's performance?" I asked.

"I think that's a real possibility. Fortunately, the four of them have agreed to record their sessions together, so the recordings' images and words may tell us more that their own recollection," Jamie answered. "But Tom, Lorraine and then Emily and Kim and Marta may not have sex together for a week or two, maybe even longer."

"Why not?" My voice may have revealed my disappointment.

"Because, Tom, remember that I had probably set the output level on Lorraine's phallus too high. It was producing more stimulation than it needed to for Lorraine to experience maximum pleasure, and that had some undesirable side effects on her. Consequently, we've made both Lorraine's and Kim's phalluses adjustable. I've already shown Lorraine how to decrement the intensity setting with her computer. Lorraine is going to ratchet down the output before she begins masturbating. She'll keep reducing the output until the side effects disappear while the intensity and duration of orgasm remains the same.

Now, Kim hasn't come to pick her phallus up yet. I expect her to do that Tuesday. But in her case, we're starting her phallus at the opposite end of the orgasm scale from Lorraine's. Each time Kim masturbates using the phallus, she will increment the power until she achieves maximum orgasm intensity without any undesired side effects like Lorraine experienced with the version one phallus. 

If we assume that neither Lorraine nor Kim will masturbate more than once per day, it could take a lot of adjustment by both of them to reach the desired operating point for their respective phalluses. So, I'm speculating that it could be a couple weeks before either Lorraine or Kim is ready to have sex with Emily and Marta."

"Aren't you making a phallus for Amanda, too?" I asked.

"Yes, but she won't be part of the test. At least not yet. She will come in Wednesday so I can get all the measurements and do the calculations to make her phallus. Of course, I have no idea what level of output will be appropriate for her, so I'll start her's at the midrange and then show her how to use her computer to adjust the orgasm intensity herself. Actually, Amanda may come as close as can be expected to being a valid control in the prosthetic phallus tests. 

Remember, she had to be persuaded to even try one of the new models. And with her being both an OB-GYN and a urologist, I think her initial focus will be on some of the more mundane but important functions such as sanitation, comfort, and so on."

My mind had begun to drift a bit to forming mental pictures of Lorraine, Kim, and Amanda wearing their artificial phalluses. I also was thinking about what it would be like to have sex with each of them wearing her phallus.

And then, for some unexplained reason, my mind locked onto a picture of Emily and Jamie together, both kissing and fondling each other passionately, then ending in Jamie fucking Emily.

It had been less than an hour after my experiencing an orgasm at the "hand" of Jamie's computer-driven sleeve, yet I felt my cock beginning to quickly and uncontrollably harden again. Not surprisingly, I found my eyes unavoidably drawn to the obviously enlarging bulge in Jamie's very short tight white shorts while still being conscious of my own erection. 

I reluctantly decided I'd better change the subject quickly to something more clinical and less hard-on inducing in both of us.

"Okay, Jamie, but how does your theory about my 'gift' explain the signs of age regression in Lorraine? Why did her atrial fibrillation disappear? How does it explain the physical changes in Kim -- not the least of which was her restored ability to orgasm? Why haven't there been physical changes in you and Amanda?"

"Tom, I can't begin to understand, let alone explain, any of the therapeutic benefits that seem to follow having sex with you -- even just once. For that matter, we really can't be absolutely sure what has caused them. I happen to believe that your 'gift' is a major contributor if not the exclusive cause to everything you've described, but we really do need more evidence. I suspect we all believe that your 'gift' is a manifestation of something far greater, far more cerebral, than your just being able to induce intense, prolonged orgasms in your partner.

Lorraine and I have speculated -- and it's really nothing more than that -- that just like parts of a person's conscious memories are apparently archived in their brain for life and are sometimes brought forth years later by some traumatic event, it may be that some of our bodily control signals are similarly stored. We wonder if the intensity of the orgasms you induced in her might not have resurrected an earlier and more healthy heart rhythm control long stored in Lorraine's brain. 

Of course, Tom, there have been changes in Amanda and me. Some have been physical, others ... well...

We've both noticed dramatically increased mental acuity. We can both focus more intently on our professional work, so we use our time more productively and accomplish much more. You'll recall that both Lorraine and Kim have made the same observation.

Amanda has also noticed that her body is beginning to trim up though she hasn't changed her diet or exercise regimen. Right now, the changes are subtle, really obvious only to her. Her breasts have begun uplifting on their own. Her legs, waist, hips, and arms have begun to slender down. It's amazing, but her reductions are in proportion and tend to coincide with what they were in earlier years. She notices that when she wears slacks -- they're not as snug in the thighs and calves and butt. She also notices it in the mirror when she's nude. Overall, Tom, Amanda says she feels younger -- that she's an emotionally mature woman in her own years-younger body. The term she uses to describe what's happening to her body is 'reverting.'

And Tom, yes, I have noticed some physical changes in me. My body hair has become darker, thicker, and finer, and it grows more quickly. I was borderline hypertensive before, but since we've had sex, my blood pressure has dropped and other significant hypertensive indicators have diminished. It was Kim who observed that and has been watching it. 

My breasts have become more shapely and firm, and they are more sensitive to touch. Like Lorraine, I can now experience nipple orgasms. 

Kim's nipples have become more sensitive, but possibly because she's had children, whereas Lorraine and I have not, she still cannot orgasm from only nipple stimulation. But she's eager to let you try and change that if you can.

I've found that my sex drive is much stronger, and my erections are more frequent. They seem harder, and they last longer. I masturbate daily again, sometimes two or even three times daily. My masturbation orgasms seem to be more intense and last longer as well."

She hesitated, appearing to be genuinely conflicted about going further. Finally, she continued. 

"There's something else, Tom -- something that Lorraine, Kim, Amanda, and I have all seen in ourselves.

First, we've all noticed that since having sex with you, we've all begun to orgasm sooner. Not surprisingly, Lorraine noticed it first. She's the oldest in the group, and as she approached 50, she noticed that it was taking longer and longer for her to orgasm -- when she was able to orgasm at all. 

Kim, of course, was an unusual case, because of her complete inability to orgasm until you came along -- pun intended. But once you had apparently restored her ability to cum, she too noticed that she was orgasming sooner than she ever had. Amanda is about Kim's age, and like Kim and Lorraine, her ability to orgasm after only a very few minutes of stimulation became more obvious to her.

I've noticed the same thing in myself."

"Maybe I should apologize to all of you for reducing your pleasure time," I said honestly.

"No, don't even think of it that way, Tom. Remember, what we've also noticed is that each of us now orgasms much more consistently, and our orgasms are longer in duration and intensity. I think each of us would also agree that while our time between initial arousal to orgasm has decreased dramatically, that orgasm's intensity and duration has definitely increased. The net effect is that our sexual pleasure, whether during intercourse or masturbation, has exponentially increased.

But let me continue my train of thought.

The second second thing all four of us have noticed is this. Since having sex with you, each of us has also begun experiencing an uncharacteristic and, frankly, somewhat unsettling desire to display our sexuality more openly, to have others see us as being more sexually attractive."

"But you're all four extremely attractive and sexy women. You can't help but be what you already are -- and show what you have." 

I can be very dense at times, and this was undoubtedly one of them.

"No, Tom," Jamie said patiently. "That's not exactly what I meant, but thank you for the very discreet compliment. No, what I mean is that each of us at some level has become aroused by the thought of others watching us while we are having sex.




A Gift in Disguise Ch. 07



Lorraine touched on that when she was recounting her first experience with the prosthetic phallus to you. Remember? She tried to put on her jeans over the phallus? She was wondering how people would react when and if they saw her 'bulge' under her clothing. Since it was the version one phallus she became aroused herself to near orgasm before she could go out. With the increased erection control in the newest version of phallus, I'm curious to see if she follows through.

Both Kim and Amanda have expressed similar desires. Each of them has begun to wonder even more how others view them sexually. 

Until having sex with you, Tom, neither of them had really expressed or even felt any remotely exhibitionistic thoughts."

"That isn't exactly accurate, Jamie. Remember what Kim said at the hospital? Remember how she said 'slutting up' underneath her hospital garb gave her a great deal of confidence?"

"Yes, Tom, but that didn't start until after you and she began having sex."

I was trying to fully digest what Jamie had already said. 

"There's something else, Tom. Even though neither Emily nor Marta have had any direct sexual contact with you, they are both telling us -- Lorraine, Kim, Amanda, and me -- that they are seeing some similar reactions, albeit not as pronounced, in themselves. Improved mental acuity and job performance, increased sexual drive, increased interest in masturbation with accompanying increased frequency and intensity, and a relaxed attitude toward sexual exhibitionism. Neither of them have reported any significant physical changes, but then, neither of them had any prior significant medical history where changes would have been more apparent."

"Do you think that may relate to Emily's reaction to the prosthetic phallus demonstration in the lab? That she and Marta have both had increased indirect exposure to me through the reports and videos from Lorraine and Kim?"

"It certainly could, Tom, but it's too soon to say with any certainty." 

Then she dropped another bombshell.

"You'll remember that we all agreed you should not be present at either Lorraine's office or Amanda's lab when the prosthetic phalluses were being tested?"

"Sure. It only makes sense. We are all concerned that my being there might skew the results." 

"Well, Tom, Lorraine and Emily have changed their minds and would like to have you present when they do their test."

I started to protest, but Jamie put up her hand to silence me.

"And they don't just want you watching the audio-video feed from another room. They want you in the room with them."

"Wait a minute, Jamie. Lorraine and Emily want me in the same room, watching, while Lorraine fucks Emily? No way!" 

My outburst was spontaneous, but it was probably somewhat attenuated by my mind generating an image of Lorraine and Emily together. 

Jamie just nodded, although she didn't seem anywhere near as concerned as I. In fact, she didn't seem concerned at all. 

"But if it would have skewed their results before, why won't it now? And what if my being there inhibits their sex drive?" 

In her calm voice, Jamie answered. "Tom, from purely scientific and academic perspectives I agree completely with you. I think we would both prefer to have them alone together the first time or two they have sex. That would help ensure that their responses are as attributable as possible to the phallus to the exclusion of outside influences. And watching you masturbate would qualify as a whopping outside influence!

At the same time, I can understand their point of view. Both of them obviously find you very sexually attractive. They feel your presence would actually stimulate them sexually and make their responses to each other more natural. They said that your being there would be a positive distraction -- it would keep them from thinking about the phallus. They wouldn't feel the white-coat syndrome that often accompanies laboratory testing. Obviously they had discussed your presence at some length before bringing it up to me.

Frankly, we've come to trust and accept you and to appreciate your forthrightness. And as for your presence in the room inhibiting their sex drive, I seriously doubt that. We're women, all older than you, and the thought of being able to arouse a much younger man enough to want to have sex with us is very, very powerful."

"That's all well and good for you all, but don't you understand the effect that's probably going to have on me? I'm liable to start jacking off while I'm watching them!"

Jamie's response was delivered with such certainty that it hit me like a bulldozer. 

"Of course they know, Tom. They're not just accepting the possibility; they are hoping that you will masturbate so they can watch you while they're fucking. They want to be able to watch you get excited while you're watching them. Both Lorraine and Emily have told me that the thought of watching you masturbate is tremendously exciting to them. Of course, you have already masturbated several times in front of Lorraine. You and she also masturbated at least once together. And as I said, Emily has seen the videos of you masturbating.

Tom, I know it may seem a little hard to understand, but women can really be aroused by having a man whom they know, respect, and trust masturbate not only in front of them but specifically for them. It's particularly pleasurable when the woman is either already in a sexual relationship or wants to be in one and knows the man is fantasizing about her when he masturbates. The visual effect of watching your cock grow and harden and get red, and then your sounds and the tautness of your muscles as you cum is remarkably erotic to us. We all agree that it is very likely when you and Linda were masturbating each other in the car on your high school dates, Linda's orgasms were at least as intense and long-lasting as if you two had actually been fucking. 

Don't misunderstand. It's not as if any of us is considering exposing ourselves to people we don't know. And it's not that we're going to start soliciting cock shots from random pervs on the internet. But the thought of us being able to excite you, Tom Connors, a 24-year old virile, athletic, intelligent, and handsome young man with a naturally healthy body, is remarkably erotic to us. Watching you masturbate would be a great prelude to fucking. And with Emily and Lorraine, it would be a part of their interaction with each other."

The look on Jamie's face and the fact that her hand had begun to rub her own hardness through her shorts was as telling as her words. 

"Us?" I asked with one last-gasp and admittedly feeble effort to resist doing something that deep inside me, I knew I wanted to do. "You keep saying 'us.' Are you telling me that watching me jerk off excites you, too?" I asked as I studied her face.

Jamie's response was wordless. Her eyes went directly to my erection under my cargo shorts. I could almost feel her eyes unzipping them and tugging my cock out.

She slowly stood up and allowed her right hand to unashamedly rub her own bulge. My eyes moved from hers down to her own obvious erection, contained upright like a shrouded missile ready to launch up and over the low-cut waistline of her too-tight white shorts. 

She stepped close to me. I stood up. She wrapped both arms around my neck and gave me a deep, probing kiss. At the same time, she ground her shrouded erection against mine. 

When she finally broke our kiss, she said thickly, "What I'm telling you, Tom, is that we've done enough talking today."

I gave an involuntary gasp of pleasure when she once against moved her cock against mine. 

Knowing she had moved me to the edge of orgasm, she released her arms and said, "Let's go into my apartment. We'll be much more comfortable there." Her voice had a shakiness to it as if she may have pushed herself perilously close to prematurely cumming as well.

She gave me no time to object (not that objecting ever crossed my mind). Instead, she grabbed my hand and pulled me firmly toward and then through the door connecting her private office and her apartment. 

In one my earlier visits she had explained that the apartment wasn't her primary home, but it did allow her to remain at the lab to work on specific projects whenever the mood struck her or whenever a particular project required her around-the-clock attention. When she'd had the lab built, she had the apartment designed in. It was visually and acoustically isolated from the lab, the only interior access being through the door in her private office. 

It was an efficiency apartment in every sense of the word. Its floor area, not counting the bath, was maybe 600 square feet. It was very sparsely furnished with only a two-person dinette table and two chairs and a queen-size bed. The bed's privacy was more-or-less protected from view by a standalone folding screen. 

To the left of the door going into the bathroom-basin-shower room there was a very closet which appeared to have a few changes of clothing and an upright chest of drawers. To the right was a 40-inch high-definition flatscreen television mounted on the wall. It's position allowed Jamie to clearly see it from anywhere in the apartment except the bathroom. It was connected to a DVD recorder/player and an electronic switching box connected which allowed her to observe the various surveillance cameras throughout the lab and on the building's exterior. She could also get commercial cable and watch DVDs.

There were few wall hangings and personal touches to the apartment. Clearly, as she had said, her apartment was to give her a bit of privacy and isolation from the lab. It was a place to sleep and eat for one or two nights but not a place she could live in long-term comfort or entertain guests. She also had explained that the very substantial door in the living area wall opposite the door connecting to her private office was to give her a separate entrance and exit for safety and privacy.

Immediately after we entered her apartment, Jamie closed the door behind me. Then she resumed her very aggressive and probing kissing, all the while steering me toward her nearby bed. When the backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed, I put my hands on her ass and pulled her tightly against me. This time it was her turn to gasp audibly when our erect cocks tried to find each other through our clothing. After a few tantalizing rubs, she rather forcefully pushed back from me. Her face was flushed, and she was breathing hard.

Facing me, she crossed her arms in front of her, grasped the bottom of her tight tee-shirt, and pulled it up and off. As the tee-shirt's neckline cleared the top of her head, she paused with her arms extended upward to let her hair fall back into place. It was clearly done intentionally to let me see the full expanse of her underarm hair and her perky breasts with their remarkably long, pinkish-red nipples.

"Tom ..." she said suggestively and invitingly. 

I wasted no time in pulling off my own shirt, but then I was overcome by a desire to slow down a bit, even to tease her.

After kicking off my shoes, I very slowly unfastened the belt on my cargo shorts. Then I unbuttoned the button and began to slowly unzip the front zipper. Jamie's eyes revealed their anticipation -- they were glued to each painfully slow movement of the zipper. As I did, I wished that instead of wearing my tight, short-legged, low waist dark blue briefs, I had worn nothing under the cargo shorts. 

But once I let go the cargo shorts and allowed them to fall to the floor, Jamie's expression and actions caused me to immediately banish those regrets. 

Jamie was almost salivating while staring unashamed at my full and upright erection accentuated by the briefs. 

"Oh, baby! That's..." she trailed off breathlessly. Her eager hands began fumbling with the buttons on her own shorts. Unlike my loose-fitting cargo shorts that had dropped quickly to the floor under their own weight, Jamie's skin-tights wouldn't release and fall. She had to push them down far enough to be able to step out of them one leg at a time. Yet she never took her eyes off my still covered but definitely not concealed hardness. 

When she stood back up, I could see that she was wearing a woman's bikini brief. Except in her case, her erection pushed it up and out, making it appear narrower, almost form-fitting her cock but concealing little else. As a result, her black pubic hair escaped out the sides. She made no effort to hide what was so enticing to me, and she was definitely pleased at the reaction it was having on me.

I allowed my eyes to travel the length of her body, up and down and up again, stopping when our eyes locked together. 

We stood facing each other, both of us seeming to be determined not to be the first to succumb to the inevitable lust that was obviously overtaking both of us. 

But an inner voice, strong and clear, guided me, and I stepped to her, put my left arm around her waist, my right hand on her ass, and pulled her tightly against me. She wriggled slightly, less to escape than to achieve a more comfortable position for her cock to assault mine through our now-thinned layers of cloth. 

But beyond that, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and neck, stood on her tip-toes to equalize our height, and drove her upper body relentlessly against mine, rubbing her tits up and down on my chest. 

We were cheek-to-cheek in a sexual death crush of bodies. With her lips next to my ears, I could hear her frantic, ragged breathing. It was impossible to tell whom she was trying to pleasure more: herself or me. From the sounds, it could have been both.

Her breathing turned to low grunts and growls with each thrust. Her sounds and fuck-thrusts were pushing me closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. And as I used more force to hold her closer to me, I could feel her own abdominal quivers of pre-orgasm. 

She released the surrounding grip of her arms from around my neck and pushed me away. With the back of my legs already against her bed, I could only fall backward. Her face was red, perspiring slightly, her hair disheveled, and she had a look of superiority on her face having driven me onto my back. 

In an instant she reached forward, placed the fingers of both her hands inside the waistband of my briefs, pulled them down and off, and cast them aside. My cock sprang vertically to capture her attention. It bobbed, dark red and judging from her response, inviting.

Her eyes widened slightly as if to take in more of the sight presenting itself proudly to her.

It took her only a moment to remove her thong, freeing her own fully-erect penis. I was hypnotized by it as if I were a king cobra under the spell of a snake charmer. In my moment of hesitation, she sprang forward with sounded like the roar of a cougar, landing on top of me, kissing my face, neck and shoulders, running her hands all over my body.

Lying on top of me, she pushed her legs between mine, then used hers to force mine apart and open. She expertly positioned her erection alongside mine, touching, just as our entire bodies were. I felt both its hardness and its softness. It felt almost as if they were coiling around each other as a helix. 

The sensation was breathtaking, and when I opened my mouth to gasp for air, she acted as if she had been preparing for it. She plunged her tongue deeply into my mouth, driving it to the back, and forcing me to fellate it. I eagerly complied, and she responded by crushing her breasts against me even more. 

We rolled about, entangled, on her bed, trying desperately to achieve an even higher plane of arousal. Always she maintained her position on top of me. I was not about to complain. Her dominance was also driving her own arousal higher and higher.

I began rimming her asshole with both my index fingers while clasping her asscheeks with my hands. She began to shiver slightly, and her eyes rolled back in their sockets briefly with the sensations of our contact.

With some force, she put her hands on my shoulders and pushed herself up to a sitting position astraddle of me, our cocks rarely losing contact with each other. Her face was bright red, her hair in complete disarray, and her eyes shone with lustful intensity. She took both our erections and held them base to base, upright, with both her warm hands encircling them. They were dark red, and the heat of both against each other was clearly affecting both of us. 

With her knees alongside my hips and bracing herself, she began gently undulating her pelvis. The result was an instantaneous sensation that I was somehow inside her. The look on her face, its distortion in pleasure really, told me she was likely feeling the same thing.

I moved my hands outside her and began running them up and down her legs. I was surprised and more than a little hardened when my hands felt the coarse hair on her calves in contrast with the smoothness of her thighs. 

The pinpoint of preorgasmic pain was rapidly expanding deep inside me and apparently in her, too, as she intensified and accelerated her pelvic gyrations rubbing our erections together. Her breathing was becoming ragged, dry, and her sounds of sex more audible but less intelligible.

I reached up and placed my hands on her breasts, cupped them. I moved my fingertips over them, lightly, consciously though not easily avoiding her nipples which had reached a length of at least one-half inch each.

Finally I could resist no longer. I took each nipple between my thumb and index fingertips and squeezed as gently as I could. 

Instantly she speeded up her pelvic undulations and tightened her grip on our shafts as if to combine them into one. The slight pain of my pinching aroused her even more. 

"Yes!... Yes!... More... Harder... Harder, baby, pinch harder... Yes! That's it! I'm almost there! Right there! Fuck me there! Pull them hard! Now! Now!" she squealed, her voice a mixture of pleasurable pain driving a now-unstoppable orgasm.

I began heaving my body upward to match her undulations, trying to synchronize my movements with hers, while at the same time pinching her nipples while pulling them outward.

Again, her eyes began to roll back in her head. Perhaps unconsciously, she released her hands from around our embracing hardnesses and began to slap my chest with her open hands. That assault lasted mere seconds before I began to feel the irrepressible explosion of my orgasm driving forcefully upward to its escape.

At the same instant, Jamie's eyes opened wide in a distant sexual stare, seeing nothing. Her body began to shiver slightly, but the shiver soon changed to a much more distinct quivering. 

As our orgasms hit simultaneously, she fell forward on top of me so her breasts were against mine, her head alongside mine, her womanly thrusts still driving her cock against mine. 

The room filled with the sounds of our release, sounds that seemed to echo and reecho through the small apartment for an immeasurable time. 

Our warm liquids of ejaculation flowed between our bodies, still fucking at each other to extract every possible sensation of pleasure and release.

In seconds feeling like hours, her body began to relax, her sexual urges diminishing as were mine. 

Soon Jamie's body, depleted of its sexual resilience and its energy, lay relaxed on top of mine, her normal breathing returning.

I wrapped my arms around her to hold her in place on top of me, not wanting to release the crush of her breasts, the feel of her cock still twitching slightly against mine, the tangle of our legs.

She tried to push herself up to look in my face, but the fatigue of our fucking had drained everything possible from her. She was only able to roll off onto her side. 

As she tried to focus her eyes on my face, her eyelids began to appear heavy. She moved her lips irregularly forming soundless words, and then her eyes closed in blissful post-orgasmic slumber.