0 comments/ 6109 views/ 0 favorites Sexually Dysfunctional Pt. 01 By: sammican1 This is a story about a psychoanalyst, his assistant and his nurse treating patients who are sexually dysfunctional. The real issue is who are more dysfunctional the patients or those who treat them? You choose. * Part 1 Sammi meets Emma and Mike. Even before Sammi had qualified as a nurse she had had doubts as to whether the profession was for her. After qualifying and spending time on the wards of an old, dirty and run down London hospital, those doubts were confirmed. She clearly wasn't cut out for it, well not for typical nursing. She couldn't handle the bed pan and being a skivvy aspects, the squalor of the NHS and the stupid wages she got paid. So, with some reluctance, for deep down she was a firm believer in the principal of public health, she ditched her beliefs and joined the private sector. She became a contract nurse, a temp, an agency employee. She registered with what she had been led to believe was the top agency in London. People she'd met in NHS hospitals had told her 'They only take people who pass the exams with flying colours.' Sammi had been in the top two percent of her year. They also, Sammi quickly learned from visiting the agency a few times and meeting numerous colleagues only took on well-presented nurses; the sort of blokes and girls you see in Holby City and Casualty, not the tatty sort you see in real hospitals. After passing the interview, taking loads of tests and being told she had been accepted, she discussed the sort of assignment, as they called them, not work or jobs as ordinary mortals would, she would prefer. At the time Sammi had no real idea what they were on about for she just assumed she would work in an NHS or private hospital at higher rates and with better working conditions than in the public sector. As it turned out the agency handled loads of different types of assignments in the UK and overseas thus, giving their contractors a wide choice. With advice from her "personal career councillor" Emma, based on two interviews and the results of her tests, it was decided that Sammi would be best suited and happiest working for consultants in their surgeries or in small hospitals. "Upmarket, stylish ones," she said smiling, trying to appear cool and sophisticated. "Yes Sammi of course, with fortyish, hellishly attractive consultants," Emma, beamed back, her big brown eyes seeming to bore right through the young blonde. "All the hospitals that retain us are er, how did you put it, upmarket and stylish?" "Ok fine," the blonde muttered, suitably put in my place. Emma came out from behind her desk and stood behind the young blonde nurse. Sammi guessed that Emma was in her late thirties or early forties. Dark, beautifully cut, shoulder-length hair, impeccable make-up and wearing a black pin stripe, stylish power suit with a tight pencil skirt and a three buttoned jacket showing a deep cleavage, she looked every bit the successful business woman that she was for she owned the nursing agency and several other businesses as well. "We wouldn't dream of placing such an attractive nurse as you Sammi anywhere that wasn't perfect." "Really, oh, I see." Sammi mumbled hesitantly, a little embarrassed. The older woman rested her hands on the girl's shoulders. Sammi turned her head from one side to the other then back again. She saw a set of perfectly manicured, white-painted, square cut nails resting on each of her shoulders. It felt very intimate. "No Sammi, your enjoyment of your time with us," the older woman went on as she increased the pressure a little, before continuing. "That we hope will be long, is as important as our client's pleasure will be at having you." Emma was purposefully testing her new contract nurse. She was sending out signals and watching carefully how they would be received. In part it was because she was bi. Not that she would normally risk anything or mar her reputation just for a quick fuck with a young bimbo like Sammi, as welcoming and as appealing as that might be. No, she needed to know, and she got to know about her girls. Over a period she got to know everything about each one. That was her job an was part of the reason why the agency was the most popular, most expensive and most successful in its field. That was why her special clients held Emma and her agency in such high regard; she came up with the goods time and time again; and in the rarefied atmosphere of top end, international health care that was crucial. Sammi audibly gulped making Emma suppress a smile. "Was she coming onto me?" Sammi thought. "There seemed to be double meanings in everything? Was this a straightforward nursing agency, or was there a hidden agenda?" She began to wonder. At the time, Sammi was approaching her twenty-fifth birthday. She lived in a flat just off Euston Road with three other girls. Other than the fucking awful nursing at the fucking awful hospitals and the fucking awful wages she earned, things were ok. She couldn't, though, have the lifestyle she wanted on those fucking awful wages. So, unbeknown to anyone, she did some modelling on the side, glamour photography stuff, mainly for amateur photographic clubs. Generally working "club" evenings she would pose for groups of between four and ten men in the forties or early fifties. They called the shots telling her how to pose and what to wear as they took some lingerie shots, her undressing, topless stuff, some nude, open legs and touching even. Roughly once a week or so she got booked for a one to one session that paid more, was far more intimate and, Sammi was finding, arousing. The modelling paid well, she almost doubled her nurse's salary with it, but it was becoming more and more difficult to keep it a secret, hence, the decision to work on contract. There was, though, another reason why Sammi wanted to stop the photographic modelling. When she did the one to one sessions, increasingly she was being asked if she did "extras." She didn't, but her resistance was waning. After all spending up to two hours with a guy in various stages of undress, sometimes touching her breasts or, if she felt particularly generous, her pussy, as he said wonderful things about her body and took shots of it, can be quite arousing. As a general rule, the guys that booked her one to one were younger and, slightly, more appealing than the club members. Occasionally, they might even be quite fanciable and that is when she really had problems. She hated herself for it, but Sammi was finding it increasingly difficult to continue saying that she didn't do extras. Especially when she heard from other models she met who did offer extras that she could probably charge sixty quid or so for a few squeezes of her tits and a quick wank and around a hundred for a blow job. Easy, but dubious money, or was it she sometimes wondered? Higher paid nursing was far more preferable, she had concluded, hence the signing onto the books of Le Crème Nursing Consultancy. They had made a big point in their ads and at the group interviews and assessment she had attended about the uniform or tunics that they supplied. "Stylish, sophisticated and bespoke," was how they described it. "Clothes that will make you feel good as well as help your patients recover," they had explained Sammi had assumed that the uniform differentiated La Crème from the staff of other agencies, in the hospitals and clinics, thus, acting as advertising for them, making the girls feel they were being treated well and meaning that the consultants and small hospitals didn't have to stump up for them. A neat arrangement all round, or so she thought. "So Sammi, you had better have your fitting, so we can get your tunic made and get you some assignments as soon as possible, hadn't we?" Emma said removing her hands from the nurse's shoulders. Sammi wasn't quite sure if she felt relieved or disappointed when the hands left her shoulders. Emma walked round her, picked up a file from her desk and leaned back against it, her long legs crossed at the ankle stretched out towards Sammi. "Er, yes Emma, I suppose we had." "What are you, size 10?" "On a good day," "Height?" "Five six" "Weight?" "Just over eight and half stone, one twenty pounds or so." Emma looked up; pushing the reading glasses down her nose and looking over them went on. "Mmmmm, nice build." "Thank you." "You're welcome," Emma replied holding Sammi's gaze as she added. "And your measurements Sammi?" Sammi wasn't too sure that she had heard properly or exactly what measurements Emma was referring to, so she said nothing. Emma took over again. Staring deep into Sammi's eyes, she said softly as she dropped her gaze "Your breasts first." That word sounded so loaded with meaning. To Sammi, for some reason it reeked of sex; far more so than when the photographers might call out phrases such as. "Shove your tits out Sam or, pinch your nipples". Hearing "your breasts" ooze out between Emma's full, deep red lips and the white, even teeth, seemed as stimulating to Sammi as when a man says. "Darling I desire you so much, let me fuck you!" "Er, um 33 b." "You sure Sammi?" she asked staring at the blonde's boobs. Sammi was wearing a fairly tight top so they were accentuated a bit. "They look a little more like c cup to me," she said making Sammi wonder for a fleeting moment if she was going to ask to see them. "Well to tell you the truth I find it hard to get a bra the right size, for I really think I am b and a half." "Anyway," Emma said, again looking up and lifting her reading glasses, but this time staring quite blatantly at the girl's chest. "Whatever, they are they are very nice." Sammi really felt out of her depth. She had never had a woman talk to her like this, never had a woman of Emma's age, sophistication and beauty come on to her like this if, indeed, that was what Emma was doing. "Perhaps in this part of sophisticated London, in the high end health care business this was how things were?" Sammi pondered, but she didn't know and had no idea how to handle this glamorous woman. So she kept quiet as Emma tapped into her PC the 25 inch waist and 34 inch hips measurements that the nurse advised were her sizes. "Mmmm very nice indeed," she said running her gaze unashamedly up and down Sammi. "Do you know your leg size?" "No, no idea," Sammi replied. "That's ok, just stand up then." "Fuck she's going to measure it. She's going to put her hands on my legs. Bollocks." And she did. Inside and outside leg. Hip to knee and knee to ankle. She knelt beside Sammi, her jacket gaping, her full, ripe breasts pressed against the nurse's legs. She held the tape on Sammi's waist and ran that down to her heel, right down the raised seam of the jeans. "Thank Christ I wasn't wearing a skirt," Sammi was thinking as Emma said, a little huskily. "Now the inside. Open your legs a little please Sammi." "Fucking hell," Sammi thought," a woman nearly old enough to be my mum and certainly attractive enough to be a model asking little me to open my legs!" She did as she was asked. The feeling of the back of the woman's knuckles against her crotch through, fortunately, the thick denim of her jeans, was as exciting a sensation as the blonde could ever remember experiencing. * The uniforms were delivered to Sammi's flat by courier a couple of days later. "Bloody hell Sam," Roni, the scouse actress, well the aspiring one, with whom Sammi shared a flat, said, as she helped carry the parcels and hanging wardrobes into the main room of the large, but fairly run down flat. "What the hell have they sent you?" "Hang on let me look at the delivery note." "There's three of three types of outfit." "What? "Well there's a tunic outfit, with three of them, trousers and top and three white coats, or so it seems, let's have a look." They unzipped the hanging wardrobes first. On the hangers in the first one, were three pale blue cotton blouses with small, dark blue epaulets, and three pairs of tailored trousers. In the second there was more of typical nurse's uniform in content, three dark blue dresses and white pinafores and in the third there were simply three, white full length coats. The parcels contained three pairs of shoes, one for each uniform and some more aprons. There were pairs of white and blue flat loafers, and a pair of blue mid height heeled shoes. On them was a ticket. "To be worn with the coat." "Oh look Sam, there's a note." Roni said pointing to an envelope clipped to one of the hanging wardrobes. Sammi picked it up and glanced at it. "It explains what they are. Oh I see." "What?" "Well they provide uniforms for all the types of work me might do. The dress and pinafore outfit is for ward work, the trousers and blouses for training and reception and the coat for working in consulting rooms." "Clever lot of sods aren't they?" Roni snorted, being rather pissed off at Sammi for giving up on her left wing beliefs and becoming as, she put it, a sell out to the fucking Tories. "It also says to try them on immediately so that any alterations can be arranged today, before my first assignment." "Assignment." Roni sorted, again. "Since when do fucking nurses have fucking assignments? They have jobs not fucking assignments" "Well Veronica," Sammi replied quite used to and not a bit put off by Roni's outbursts. "You never know. Mister Mike Steven's is by all accounts quite dishy and it might well be that Emma has set me up with a fucking assignment." "Bollocks, that stuck up cow wouldn't set you up with a fuck with a fanciable guy, she'd have it herself!" Roni easily took dislikes to people. And she had to Emma after Sammi had recounted the meeting at the consultancy a few days ago. That had been followed up with a telephone and video interview with a consultant, Mike Stevens who was exactly the 'fortyish, hellishly attractive consultant' type that Emma had promised. Sammi went into her room carrying most of the outfits as Roni lit a Marlboro and started to make cups of espresso for both of them. "Jesus fucking hell Sam, you sure this is real nursing tunic and not some form of nurseogram outfit?" Roni said loudly, her mouth wide open as Sam came into the lounge. As Sammi had put it on and looked at herself in the mirror, she had asked herself the same question. It did seem a little risqué in design. "Men and nurses uniforms," she had smiled as she pirouetted in front of the mirror in the tiny bedroom. 'Almost as fetishist with men as girls in school uniforms' she smiled. Basically, the tunic revolved around a white coat, which on the face of it was nothing special. Not until you looked closely. The coat was made from the finest cotton. It fitted like a glove and had silver buttons all the way up the front. Round the waist there was a belt that was about three inches deep. It was the same dark blue as the epaulets on the blouse and the white coat and the trousers in the other outfits.. It was elasticised with a clasp that matched the silver buttons on the coat. It was very tight, if anything too tight, for it drew Sammi's already respectably narrow waist in a little. That accentuated both her averagely sized boobs, but more so, the flare of her hips. Hourglass had come to mind as she had looked at herself in the mirror. Emma had said that it was company policy that all nursing personnel had to wear white stockings or tights. As she had told Sammi that, she had said softly as she looked the blonde right in the eye. "Most of us tend to wear stockings Sammi, hold-ups with lacy tops." As Emma had said that Sammi watched her slowlyy, almost imperceptibly rubbing her leg, just where a stocking top would be. Sammi's always fertile and imaginative mind had immediately visualised Emma without the skirt of the power suit, her long, long legs covered in the luxuriant lace and nylon of a pair of dark holdups. She was sure she had blushed and hoped Emma had not noticed; she had though, for Emma noticed everything to do with her girls, and Sammi was looking to be a very likely prospect of becoming one of Emma's very special girls indeed. Sammi had slipped the coat on over her panties and tights. The hem of the coat was about three inches above her knee. Thus, when she bent forward or sat down it rode up and something like six to nine inches of her white nylon, covered legs were displayed. "Just right for lacy hold-ups, I don't reckon." She had thought to herself, as she leaned forward, looking back over her shoulder at her bum in the mirror. She was sure that had she been wearing hold-ups the stocking tops would have been on show. "Just right for ageing men's' blood pressures," she smiled. "Bloody hell Sam," I can see the outline of your thong and most of your tights", the forthright, liverbird said in her Liverpudlian accent, which was more pronounced when she was annoyed, or excited "You can't can you?" "Well not all the time, but when the coat's tight you can." Sammi moved closer to the mirror and saw what she meant. When she bent forward the cotton was stretched tight across her bum and she could see quite clearly the outline of the seam of the tights running right down the middle of her bum. She could also see where the thong ran down from the waistband and joined the tights before slipping between her legs. "Oh shit," I see what you mean," she replied adding. "I guess that's why Emma said most of the girls wear hold-ups." "Yeah you wouldn't have any of those ridges or marks then," "I'll get some and try it tomorrow." "I've got some you can borrow, they're black though, but you'll be able to check won't you?" "Would you mind Ron?" It was a little embarrassing undoing the coat, taking the white tights off and sliding into Roni's quite sexy, black, lacy topped hold-ups, in front of her. Embarrassing and, if Sammi was honest, quite arousing, for they had snogged and played with each others' tits a couple of times when they had both been pissed and horny, but then don't most twenty something girly mates at some time or the other do that, or something similar? With the stockings now on, Sammi started buttoning up the coat. "Fucking hell Sam, you look amazing like that, you're oozing sex," she said. "Look at yourself in the mirror." Sammi did and saw what Roni meant. The white of the net, see through, bra and thong was set off starkly by the black of the stockings. They were so long that there was only about an inch of skin between their tops and the bottom of her thong. The open coat left everything about her on show, her thighs, her tummy, her pubic mound in the thong, her waist, chest and boobs. The coat hanging open and the contrast of the white and black created a wanton and rather sordid, tarty look that Sammi could see was, as Roni termed it, oozing sex. "Maybe I should wear the black for work then?" She smiled. "That would give the patients heart attacks," Roni replied looking at Sammi with an enquiring look on her face. Their eyes met. They each knew that they would both be thinking pretty much the same; that their minds would have gone back to when they had groped each other on the very settee where Roni was now sitting. Sammi knew that her friend would be recalling the feel of their lips on the other, what their breasts felt like to her touch and the sensations they got from them cupping each others boobs and squeezing and pinching each others nipples. They each knew what the other would be thinking, for it was exactly what they were thinking. "Oh shit Sammi," she sighed. "I know Roni," Sammi whimpered back. "What's happening luv?" "Bollocks I don't know, but we mustn't." "No you're right," she said getting up, walking into her room and closing the door. Sammi went to her own room tingling all over and feeling aroused, but relieved that she and her close friend had resisted going further; it could only lead to a mess. But as she did the coat up and repeated the bending over exercise, she couldn't help wondering just what her friend would probably be doing right now. The vision in her mind of Roni laying on her bed, her jeans pushed down and her hands inside her panties between her legs, was very stirring indeed and it took a strong resolve by Sammi not to rush to Roni's room and bang on the door. Sexually Dysfunctional Pt. 01 The view in the mirror was much better. It was cleaner cut and smoother without the tights. But, there was still the clear outline of the thong. The highest quality Egyptian cotton, whilst wonderful to the touch and great to look at, is thin and becomes almost see through when stretched. The coat had been made to such tight margins that it was stretched in most places, especially across Sammi's small breasts and womanly rounded bum. Two alternatives she thought. A thinner thong or this she pondered, removing the garment, pulling the coat down and again bending forward. The look was fine; no unsightly lumps, seams, or bumps. Smooth as a baby's bottom, she thought smiling. Could she really go to work commando though? Could I spend all day without panties? God it did feel sexy though, she thought as she walked round the small room imagining she was in a consulting room working with a consultant. It took a week or so for the agency to process everything. "How are you set for Monday?" Emma asked down the phone the following Friday. "Great, nothing on at all." "Mmmmm what a thought, the mind boggles," Emma said. "No, I didn't mean I was naked, I meant." "Yes luv, yes I know I was just joking with you." She gave Sammi the details, said it would be confirmed by e-mail and told her to be there at 7.30 sharp on Monday morning. Just as Sammi disconnected her mobile she heard the ping of the e-mail arriving on her PC. Hmmm pretty damn efficient she thought. "Hello," Sammi said to the male receptionist at the ultra smart, small hospital in Bedford's Way just off Harley Street. "I am here to see Mister Mike Stevens, it is mister and not doctor isn't it?" "Please take a seat; I will let his office know you are here, your name please? Yes he's far above being a mere doctor, but I'm never quite sure about these bullshit medical terms," he said flashing a set of amazingly white teeth at Sammi. "What's your name?" "Sammi, Sammi Cannock, well nurse Cannock I suppose," she replied. "You have an appointment, I assume?" the dusky skinned, outrageously good looking guy said. "Yes, I have my agency papers, and was asked to meet him here this morning," "Wonderful, my name is Cal, and if you have any questions while you are here, I'm the one to ask," Cal said looking Sammi up and down, rather flirtatiously and, in many ways, probably inappropriately, but nevertheless quite flatteringly. As Sammi learned later, this was quite a common occurrence with Cal. He was of Pakistan background and came from a moneyed family. He liked to think, not unjustifiably either, that he looked like Imran Khan, when he was younger of course. He was very lazy and thus disappointed his family considerably by being a receptionist. To him, though, it was fine, for it meant he three days a week he had the afternoon and evening shift, thus enabling him to going clubbing several nights a week from which he met an almost endless stream of young women. They were his total passion in life. He often told his mates and sometimes the women he was trying to conquer and indeed did conquer that he lived to fuck and fucked to live. "Mister Stevens will be VERY pleased to see YOU" he replied, the emphasis not lost on Sammi, although it did rather surprise her for nothing like this happened in the NHS; they never had cool, dishy, young male receptionists in the hospitals where she had worked in the public sector. Cal had arranged the chairs in the waiting area so that wherever any of the nurses sat, he would be able to see their legs. Not only was he a real player, but he also was an avid voyeur. His day was made when a girl leaned forward a little too much and he caught a glimpse of her bra. It was equally made when sometimes he would see the top of a uniform, perhaps a blouse, stretched tight across a pair of full tits so that he saw the outline of a hardened nipple. But mostly it was made, as it was being made now by looking at the girls' legs, as he was looking at Sammi's legs, as he was looking up her skirt that had slithered up her thighs as she sat. She had good legs and like all of the nurses from La Crème she was wearing white tights, or stockings. Cal was pondering as he thought how attractive all the girls seemed to be that came from that nursing agency whether Sammi was wearing tights or stockings and was willing the coat to slip up just a few more inches. Crème girls as he called them were always better looking, with nicer figures and a sexier appearance than most of the nurses and technicians from other agencies; not once had he seen a dumpy, ugly or plain La Crème nurse and he often wondered why. The door beside Cal opened and out strode a tall man who Sammi assumed was the consultant. He was dressed in an immaculate lightweight, navy pin-stripe suit and a pink shirt with gold cufflinks and a silk, blue and pink tie, striped tie. He was gorgeous and relaxed yet so sophisticated. Cal stood up and walked over to him. Sammi was surprised at how familiar he was. "Hi Mike, this is Sammi. Nurse Cannock, this is Mister Stevens our consultant psychiatrist on sexual dysfunctionality." Sexually Dysfunctional Pt. 02 This is a story about a psychoanalyst, his assistant and his nurse treating patients who are sexually dysfunctional. The real issue is who are more dysfunctional the patients or those who treat them? You choose. * Sammi's first day treating sexually dysfunctional patients, oh and getting fucked on the side. "Hi, nice to meet you", he said in a pleasant, nicely modulated voice that had a posh tone to it, but not offensively so like, for instance, Prince Charles. He held his hand out. "Oh hi, yes thanks, yes thank you, nice to meet you too," Sammi bumbled back, rather hurriedly and a little breathlessly. She was always a little shy when meeting people for the first time, particularly men, particularly attractive men, particularly older men and particularly doctors and consultants. And Mike Stevens was all of those. And on top of that his piercing blue eyes seemed to simply bore into hers as the soft, smooth skin of his hand shook hers. Standing up, holding her fashionably large handbag, briefcase and introduction folder and putting down her cup of coffee and The Independent newspaper, Sammi was flustered and dropped the paper. It hit the table and knocked over the cup that Sammi bent down to try to catch. "Oh God, I'm sorry," she stammered as the coffee drained across the glass table soaking into the other newspapers. Cal rushed over with paper towels. Mopping the coffee up he was rewarded with a great view down the front of the tight, white coat that was the hallmark of nurses from La Crème. It made his day. "Fuck me, she's got smashing tits and a lovely white lace bra," he said to himself looking up at Mister Stevens and smiling for he saw that he too had seen exactly what Cal had. They smiled at each other and raised their eyebrow appreciatively. "Don't worry Sammi," Cal said. "Thanks a lot Cal, I really am sorry to put you to such bother." "No problem, you can repay me later," he grinned running his gaze very obviously up and down the blonde nurse's body. "Any way you like actually." Sammi couldn't help smiling at the kid's, as she thought of him for she rarely dated anyone under thirty, bottle, but didn't respond for Mister Stevens had moved round the table and was standing right next to her and Cal. They both looked at her. She stared back from one to the other not knowing what to do or think. She bent down again to collect her stuff that she had dropped onto the chair when she spilt the coffee. She could feel the boy's and the man's eyes on her. The boy's down her top, the man's at her bottom. The boy's on her tits, the man's on her arse. The boy's seeing her new white M & S bra, the man seeing the outline of her ultra thin, newly bought, Lejaby thong. Although it was probably only for seconds, it seemed an age that she was being inspected, almost roasted, she thought. It made her feel on edge. She couldn't understand why, but it also aroused her. It made her warm, well hot really, she knew she would be blushing; she always did when she was turned on. Lurid thoughts, for some reason were shooting through her mind at an incredibly fast pace. Her coat was off. She wasn't wearing a bra or a thong under it, just white hold-ups. Mike was behind her, Cal in front. She was leaning back against the Doctor. Cal was playing with her tits as if adjusting the dials on a radio. She smiled, acknowledging his enthusiasm, but relishing his loveliness as she gazed at his dusky, naked body and huge, stiff cock that he had pressed into her hand. She wiggled her bum and the older man pressed forward so that her back rubbed against his chest. That was nice. It was nicer though when his equally hard and probably just as long, but less thick cock nestled between the cheeks of her bum. "I'm so glad you have turned up, we have a lot to get through today, our last nurse let us down badly, that's why we switched agencies, come in let's have a quick chat." The doctor said pulling Sammi back from her reveries. As Cal tidied up the table and Sammi followed the doctor, she had a quick glance down at her chest. She felt tremendous relief when there were no lumps or signs of her nipples hardening. That was something that embarrassed her so often that she had given half-serious thought to getting advice as to why hers were seemingly so much more sensitive and reactive than other girls. Luckily, they were behaving themselves today she thought. She followed him into a sumptuous office, if you could call it that for it was more like a suite. In front of a nearly floor to ceiling, large bay window sat a huge, glass topped desk with brushed aluminium legs behind which was black leather, high backed chair. In front of the desk were two less ostentatious, but nevertheless black leather, expensive and comfortable looking chairs. Off to one side there were two black leather settees facing each other across a glass coffee table, and to the other side a screen that only partially hid a couch with a chair behind it. On the cursory glance she was able to give as she walked across the room, Sammi was surprised to count four PCs, scattered around the room. The walls were bedecked with modern paintings and there were some tasteful sculptures on tables and plinths. The overall style was modern minimalist. Everything was in browns, golds and charcoals and the look was expensive, leading edge and high tech, yet relaxing and comfortable. It had obviously been set up both for business meetings and as a consulting room; Sammi had never seen anywhere like it "Take a seat Sammi," he said pointing to one of the chairs in front of the desk. "I'm sorry about Cal, he can such be such a loud mouthed prick at times," the eminent psychiatrist said not the slightest bit embarrassed by using such a word in front of a young woman he was meeting for the first time. Mike chose to perch himself on the edge of the desk in front of Sammi, rather than taking the more formal seat behind it. Surveying the young blonde in front of him, he was impressed. She looked every bit as good as La Crème had promised. He was pleased he had changed agencies. Emma, the agency owner was clearly as professional as she was persuasive. Although he had met her several times in connection with a new business venture in which he was involved, he hadn't used her agency until now, but he had heard good things about it. They had, so they claimed and the references he had taken up on the phone, confirmed, a unique approach to nurse sourcing, as they termed it. An approach Emma had described, as she sat exactly where Sammi was, that was in keeping with today's sophisticated and assuring top of the range health care industry, one that dispensed with the badly dressed, poorly presented, traditional nurse. One that provided the brightest, the most sophisticated, the most attractive and, simply the best Consultants' Assistants in the country. Mike remembered very clearly how Emma, leaning forward and reaching her hand out to shake his, when he confirmed that he would use La Crème for his vacancy, displayed her deep cleavage and a goodly proportion of her nicely, full breasts had breathed. "I promise you won't be disappointed in me Mike." And so far he wasn't. Sammi was gorgeous, her qualifications and references were outstanding, she looked polished, although perhaps a little clumsy, she was clearly stylish, educated, erudite and keen to do well and she had one of the nicest arses he had seen for ages The nurse's dress had a lot of style, although Mike was slightly concerned on, how could he describe it, how modernly revealing it was. It showed Sammi's curves off to perfection, and Mike could see that she was not wearing a lot underneath. Probably just the minimum, he thought, his mind wandering back to the outline of the tiny thong and the stocking tops he had seen when she had bent over in the reception area. He wondered if all the 'Consultants Assistants' looked like Sammi and dressed as she did, concluding that they must and that they had to be coached by La Crème to do that. He wondered how Emma did that and would loved to have been at one of the coaching sessions Years of examining young women, well any aged women really, had given Mike the skill to read a woman's curves. He was pretty sure that Sammi was wearing expensive, ultra thin lingerie that was designed to "vanish" to give the appearance of the wearer being naked under their outer garments. As his gaze swept discretely, but not so much that the younger woman didn't notice it, over her body, he concluded that the lingerie had achieved its objective. Perched on the desk, one foot on the ground, the other off the floor, his legs open, Mike looked at Sammi. In his mind the coat had gone and indeed she was naked under it for he could see her pert, 33b, he guessed boobs, her flat tummy and the merest whisps of tawny pubic hair on her prominent pubic mound. He felt that slight itchiness in his balls that was the forerunner and the clear indication of an impending erection. "Sammi, I very much appreciate you being on time, our first patient is at 9am so we have a little time for me to introduce you to our clinic" Mike continued. "In front of patients please call me Doctor, although I'm quite happy for you to call me Mike after hours, and I'll do likewise, nurse, if that's ok, Sammi?". Mike looked down and smiled. Sammi looked a little nervous but then that was to be expected on her first day. "Yes of course Doctor." The nurse replied, but then with an impish grin added, "And Mike." "You know that I am a psychiatrist dealing with people that are troubled with neuroses that are often very deep rooted." "Yes I do doctor and I specialised in psychiatry in my final year preferring that to obstetrics; I got a distinction." "Hmmm, right, good, that's great," Mike flustered, his mind more drawn to her distinctive tits than exam attainments. "I am of the Freud school rather than Jung, if that means much to you." "So you are more into psychoanalysis and delving deep into their backgrounds?" "Yes, good, that's correct." "And you believe that many, or even most neuroses are based on sexual difficulties." "I see why you got a distinction, well done, that's precisely the way I practice. I need you to understand that Sammi, for you will be in the treatment room with me with every patient and you will hear some pretty lurid stuff from both men and women." "I'm sure that won't be a problem." "I do have to warn you though, that under some drugs that we need to administer to free up some peoples' minds, they do get rather excitable and imaginative and I must tell you that is why I need to have an attractive nurse." "I don't understand." "No I guess you don't, sorry. Let me be blunt, ok?" Sammi had no idea what was coming next, but the more time she spent with him, despite the topic being rather intimate the more relaxed she felt. That, though, was quite the opposite with Mike. The longer he was perched there, his leg dangling, his cock hardening, the more bizarre became his thoughts about his stunning young nurse. In simple terms, he fancied her like hell and wanted to fuck her. To fuck her right here and now. And that was so unlike him. Although he was as virile and up for sex as most men, well actually more than most if he were honest, which he wasn't very often as far as sex was concerned, he had always been able to restrict those feelings and those sort of activities, to outside his work. He'd never had any sort of relationship with a business colleague and, although he had been unfaithful to Claire, his long-term lawyer partner, many time, as indeed she had to him, he had restricted that to women outside his work environment; just about. "Some of them under the influence of the drugs may well have thoughts about you." "How do you mean?" "Well they might imagine that you are their partner now or in the past and, of course, they might well fancy you and talk in that vein when under sedation." Sammi looked into his eyes and felt a little jerk. Well two actually that rapidly became more. The first was in her chest, she avoided acknowledging heart, the second was in her pussy and from there it rapidly spread through her breasts and body. Then she did know that her nipples were, as usual, reacting. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she thought, hunching her chest a bit hoping to avoid them showing. "I'm sure we'll cope Doctor." By now Sammi was starting to feel relaxed and was appraising Mike in a bit more detail. He was handsome,looked pretty fit for his age, which she put in his mid, even maybe late, forties, had lovely blue eyes that seemed to look inside her and beautiful hands. Sammi couldn't recall noting a man's hands before, but they were well proportioned, elegant, strong and well manicured. It didn't help those jerks, the warmth rushing through her body or the hardening of her nipples when she imagined those beautiful hands on her pert breasts or rounded arse. He was dressed well, and his accoutrements were all of the highest quality. The suit, shirt and shoes were all expensive, maybe bespoke, and his aftershave smelled, sexy and exclusive and screamed, "I'm pricey!" Overall, he gave off an air of assured and relaxed confidence, success and maturity. What he didn't know was that Sammi had a thing about older guys, and she had noted the lack of a wedding ring. 'Hmmm, maybe he's not attached' thought Sammi. Her thoughts beginning to wander but were drawn back by Mike's continuation. "We run a clinic for people who are, in one way or another, dysfunctional, or at least they feel they are or could be. They have difficulty coping with the real world and many live in a fantasy one," he was saying, but thinking. "Yes a fantasy one where a forty-seven year old doctor can rip the clothes off his twenty-four year old nurse and fuck her across his desk, between patients, or with them looking on come to that. With a struggle he went on. "But we also help people discover ways of coping and adjusting, we give them techniques that they can then take back into their relationships." He paused before, almost, but not quite adding, "Such as I would like to take you into my relationship and fuck you as you suck Claire's big tits." Sammi saw and heard Mike seeming to struggle to form his words and wondered just what was going on in his head. She had tried to avoid looking at his crutch, but as it was only a few feet from her face, was level with her mouth and it did seem to be staring right at her, that was impossible. "Was that really his erection developing?" She asked herself, several times. "Most of our patients are women aged between 35 and fifty, although we do also take men, but they generally seem to be more reluctant to discuss such personal matters. As I said many, and I am afraid to say, especially my female patients can be rather dramatic and overact, so I need you in addition to your assistant duties to act as a chaperone." "Really?" "Yes, absolutely." "Why?" "Well practically every consultant psychiatrist regularly gets accused of unprofessional conduct." Mike paused before adding. "With women, I'm sure you understand, Sammi." "Oh I see," Sammi replied, half hoping that he would get up to some unprofessional conduct with her. "I will apprise you of each case before we start and any history there is of making such allegations, you see many of these ultra rich women have been under treatment by other psychiatrists for years." "Right," Sammi offered, not knowing quite what right meant in the context she had just used it. "Let me just explain how I like to work. OK?" "Of course." "Each morning we will have a meeting and review the day's cases, perhaps over coffee and a croissant, or whatever, we have full kitchen facilities here. And by the way you can have whatever meals you want, a perk of the job, I often eat dinner here and if you wish you can join me for I like to run through the day before we finish. Is that ok?" "Yes of course it is." Mike smiled at her, making her knees feel wobbly and her tits go hot. "Emma did advise you of the hours didn't she?" "She said they would usually be long." "They will be, most days twelve hours, eight to eight, but only four days usually." "That's ok I don't live far from here. I could almost walk it." "Well if you are into power-walking or running you can always shower here," he said pointing to a door in one wall. "I'll bear that in mind," Sammi said, thinking that she might just do that and "inadvertently" forget to lock the door. "So that's about it for now, ready to start?" he asked, easing himself up from the desk and standing over Sammi. "Why, of course Doctor, I'm looking forward to getting started," she replied, also standing and affording Mike another great view of her tits down the front of the tunic, which gaped as she leaned forward. "Who is our first patient?" She asked, aware of what she was flashing and that he was looking. * "Her name is Ms Eleanor Richards, but she prefers to be known as Ellie, at least to me but she may prefer you to address her as Ms or Missus Richards, we'll see. This is her third session and in the first one we covered her sexual history. It's all contained here in her files, and I would like you to familiarise yourself with them before she arrives at nine, Mike said, handing Sammi the file. Sammi took her leave, grabbed a coffee from the impressive looking Italian Espresso machine and found a comfortable chair in the nurse's staff room and began to read. She read that Ellie was 39 and married to a stockbroker, 'hence how she can afford an expensive clinic like this" Sammi thought. She had no children and seemingly wasn't interested but she was concerned at her waning sex life. She had begun socialising with a new crowd recently and a couple of the women had opened her eyes to a sexual world that was entirely new to her, a world that involved 'free' relationships, illicit affairs, bisexual behaviour and even group sex. Not wishing to seem a prude, Ellie had gone along with the chat with these women, feigning privacy when she was asked to contribute her own lurid tales. But it seemed that the coffee mornings were having an effect on Ellie. Since she wasn't blessed with a husband with a high sex drive and that she had married as a virgin, she was finding out that she really had missed out on the sexual front. After confiding in a close friend she had been referred to Doctor Stevens and had nervously approached her first session. Before Sammi could read on, Cal poked his head into the room, "Can I get you anything Sugar?" Sugar, thought Sammi, bloody cheek. "No thanks, Cal, I'm fine" she said, smiling back at him, quite enjoying his easy flirting way. He lingered for a moment taking in Sammi's crossed legs where he swore he could see the top of a stocking. 'God, I could do a lot for that girl' he thought, and left the room with an image of himself on his knees in front of Sammi, as he massaged her feet and heels before bringing his hands higher up under her dress to discover if she really was wearing stockings. Strangely, Sammi was having similar thoughts, imagining Call naked at her feet, while she remained dressed, as he worked his hands and athletic body up her legs toward her dripping pussy. She imagined this happening as Mike appeared at the door, pausing momentarily to slip into the room and watching as the scene unfolded before him. And imagination, she read, was the issue for Ellie Richards. Not the lack of it, but how to control it, since she was finding herself day dreaming of all manner of wild sexual experiences, and this had led her to becoming aroused at the slightest suggestion of sex. She had started looking at other men, and, shockingly to her, other women too. Her weekly visit to the tennis club had her almost foaming at the mouth to get her hands lips and pussy around the bare naked and tanned limbs and torsos of, particularly the young tennis players. She had feigned an injury just so that she could get out of her doubles match. She and her partner Thierri had been losing badly, but she just couldn't keep her eyes off Thierry's hot butt as he moved about the court. All she could think about was having her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands grabbing the cute butt as he thrust his long hard cock into her. If that wasn't bad enough, she was faced over the net by Thierry's gorgeous, blonde girlfriend, and her tennis coach, Phil, an older but very sexy hunk. She was imagining all four of them in bed together, and after the first set was feeling very weak at the knees and if nothing else had to get off the court to change her sopping wet pants. Sexually Dysfunctional Pt. 02 The detail of the report had engaged Sammi's attention in a way like no other, and she was beginning to conjure up similar images, and finding herself getting quite flushed, imagining this approaching middle aged, respectable woman, becoming a limp rag of desire. She was looking forward to observing how Mike handled the situation. At that moment, Cal appeared at the door and told her that she was needed in Mister Steven's office. As she went through the door that Cal held open for her, he used it as an excuse to squeeze up against the nurse as she brushed passed. This didn't go unnoticed by Sammi who chose that moment to brush her hip over the front of Cal's bulging chinos. Cal was already hard, but then he seemed to spend most of the day like it, and returned to his desk thinking how good Sammi would look bent over it, Sammi knocked on the consulting room door and entered. She wasn't prepared for what greeted her for Mike was embracing Ms Richards. As she walked in they released each other. She felt she had interrupted something but wasn't sure, at least until she glanced at the front of the psychiatrist's stylishly, quite tight suit trousers and saw an impressive bulge. "Bloody hell" she thought, "It's barely nine in the morning and already I have had wild thoughts about two work colleagues, got a soaking wet gusset from reading a case history and am in a room with a consultant and a possible nymphomaniac, what will I be like by the end of the day? "Ms Richards, please meet Nurse Cannock, Sammi, our newest recruit, and a specialist in the sort of behavioural issues we will be exploring." Mike continued. "Sammi will be with us for the session and will be helping me understand a bit more about the sorts of fantasies you are having, and how we might explore and control them, but still retain the pleasure, and of course, your marriage" Mike said smiling. Sammi and Ellie were looking at each other. It was almost as if they were rivals and were sizing each other up, which maybe in some ways they were. Ellie, at nearly forty, could have passed easily for thirty five and, at a push, for thirty. She was slim and tanned; her hair being dyed in the fashionable nearly ginger colour, her skin the equally fashionable, though rather absurd, nearly orange tone. Her hair was cut in a bob, her neck being shaved, a long wave almost permanently it seemed falling over her forehead. She walked like a cat, gently and with the swaying hips that comes with someone who is sexually confident. Shaking himself from his thoughts "Shall we begin?" "Why yes Doctor, where do you want me" * Sammi's mind was reeling. But then it had been ever since the initial interview with Emma at La Crème. Everything about this new world of upscale healthcare that she had moved into surprised and confused her. That so far, it also excited and, she had to admit, aroused her, just made her mind reel even more. Emma's rather blatant come on at the interview had started it. She had clearly indicated to Sammi that more than a job interview was on offer, if Sammi wished. Had it not been an assessment Sammi might well have accepted that offer. Her concern at getting the job outweighed her sexual temptations, however, so she had most definitely tempered her obvious response to the older woman; her less obvious ones, nevertheless roared away unseen. The outfit was the next element in her reeling. It was so overtly erotic that looking at herself in the mirror almost made her cum and had twice coaxed her into masturbating. Cal, his reaction to her, the opulence of the clinic, and the sophisticated sexual approach of the attractive doctor all made her mind reel more and more and more. Seeing Mike and the first patient embracing, Ellie Richard's easy approach, her beauty and earthy sexiness all confused, worried, surprised and amazed the young blonde nurse. Mike Stevens was one of the most successful emotional and sexual neuroses treatment psychiatrists in London. Well he thought he was. His employers at the clinic knew he was, but would not acknowledge that to him. They insisted that he needed more experience and used this as a reason to restrict his salary that they had pegged at a very respectable, but nevertheless, well under top consultant market rate, of £200,000 per annum. They also insisted that he broaden his scope of work and thus required him to treat patients with all manner of psychiatric problems and not just those that especially interested him. That was why, unbeknown to his employers, he was doing two things. Seeing patients that they knew nothing about, such as Elizabeth Richards, and establishing his own clinic that would specialise in sexually dysfunctional men and women. He had already bought a fairly isolated house in the country near Windsor that was currently being refurbished and turned into a residential clinic of the highest order and luxury. But then the clients, for whom he had just started advertising, would expect nothing less than that for they would be paying around a £1000 a day just to be in the clinic plus the enormous fees Mike and his hand picked staff were planning to charge for the treatment. With the projections that he and his financial backers, a group of Middle Eastern and German entrepreneurs, were showing of a million pounds profit in year two, Mike could smile wryly at his paltry monthly pay cheque from his current employers. It was through the Saudi Arabian financial backers, who he had been introduced to by a US investment bank, that he had met Emma. The group owned a number of hospitals, clinics and other medical facilities in the Mid East, the UK and the US and used Emma as a consultant for the provision of nurses throughout their empire. That introduction had led to Emma fonding Sammi and placing her with Mike's current clinic on a six month contract. If Sammi's mind had been reeling before the surgery began, the first patient and her reaction to the nurse positively made it boggle. Missus Richards was very attractive. She had big, starey eyes, which to Sammi's trained mind hinted at a touch of a thyroid problem, but which also meant they seemed to be mentally undressing her. She had gleaming, probably veneered teeth, and a dazzling smile that she beamed at Sammi. When they shook hands, she held her hand just that tad too long. Just that length of time that said more than hello and just that few moments that some might not notice, but to those with experience of other women recognised as a sign. And Sammi recognised that sign as most twenty something, good looking blondes would. "Right let's begin" Mike said breezily, looking even sexier Sammi thought in his white doctor's jacket. The hour long session was taken up by the patient lying on the couch with an eye mask on, answering questions posed from Mike, as Sammi took notes, although everything was being recorded. They were questions that gradually took Ellie further and further back in her life. Sammi knew from her studying that this was the classic psychoanalysis technique pioneered by Freud. It was intended to free the patient from all the conditioning and social PR that jaundiced their real and deepest feelings desires and emotions. By so doing, they would be taken back to what it was in the earlier life that was causing their current problems. To get back to that root, though was a complicated process and required the patient talking about many of her later sexual experiences, it was a little bit like peeling an emotional onion! Sammi's job was to make notes, to act as a chaperone and to administer the light, mind freeing drugs that psychiatrists sometimes used. As it happened none were used in the first consultation. But then that wasn't surprising for Mrs Richards spoke so easily. Hardly had she lain on the electrically operated couch that Mike lowered and then lifted up nearly to his waist level, than she started and really never stopped. She was wearing what Sammi knew was an enormously expensive light beige summer suit, the skirt of which rode some six inches or so above her knees showing her slender, tanned thighs and just a slither of the lace of a petticoat, something g Sammi hadn't seen since she lived at home and saw her mum in one years ago. Lying down the top gaped a bit so Mike, particularly, but also the nurse, could see the swell of her pert, firm breasts. It transpired that in previous session Mike had taken Ellie back to her early twenties when she was about to be married. She was a virgin. She had led a very protected life, having a dominating, severe, fun hating father and not being allowed hardly any freedom until she was engaged to the solid, respectable, rich, well-connected and absolutely fucking boring ex public schoolboy, stockbroker. She explained how her wedding night was near rape, but as her husband was so drunk he had no recall of that so the second night he did rape her. She went on to relate how it was only a few weeks into the marriage when he started staying out later and later and only a few months after that when she found out that he was bi and that he had a number of boy friends, who, he informed her, he had absolutely no intention of giving up. "Take it or leave," had been his clear message. The rest of Sammi's day passed quickly. They saw a couple more "private" patients with similar deep-rooted problems as Missus Richards, but most of those others were not concerned with sexual behaviour, although the reason for their problems often did, as Mike showed quite clearly with his clever, probing but gentle questioning. The patient roster completed Sammi completed her notes in the nurse's room and returned to Mike's office to file them. "Let's just run through them please Sammi." "Why?" She replied a little annoyed that it seemed he didn't trust her "Well I like to make sure they cover everything and that they are in the form I like them." "Ok" she said standing in front of his desk and placing the folders in front of him. "Let's sit over there and run through them together," he said pointing to the seating area with the two sofas. Sammi sat on the low seated sofa where he had pointed. Mike sat beside her, their knees almost touching. He had removed his jacket, loosened his tie and undone the top button on his pale blue shirt. He looked good a little rumpled and more casual. "The day is done, the patients have all gone, most of the staff, even lippy Cal have buggered off, so how about we have a drink to relax." Mike suggested. "Thanks, yes, that would be nice," Sammi replied, quite amazed that such a thing would happen in a hospital. "White wine or beer?" He asked opening a fridge. "I'm afraid we aren't very well stocked, perhaps a chore I could persuade you to look after," he went on staring deep into her eyes and taking the opportunity to ogle her legs where the hem of the tunic had zoomed up as she sat down. "That's ok doctor, white wine please." "Mike please, we're almost off duty now and there are no patients about," he said smiling. "Ok, er Mike," Sammi replied, feeling pleased with the informality. He sat next to her. He picked up the notes and they both looked at them. For half and hour or so, during which time he topped up their glasses, they went through the notes. He only had a few comments to make by way of changes. They really were well done, he acknowledged. Brains and beauty, he said to himself his knee touching his young nurse. "Well Sammi," he said leaning back and spreading his arms along the back of the sofa. "That really is excellent, there'll be no need for me to check them in future, you really have picked things up awfully well." Sammi was pleased with the praise; it made her feel good to have him compliment her. The feel on her knee had also made her feel good and she was disappointed when he had moved away, as he clearly had to. Though he had a long-term partner, Mike was a great appreciator of beauty and sex appeal in other women. He simply revelled in looking at them and chatting to them, but recently he had not been seriously unfaithful and had always vowed never to mix business with pleasure; don't crap on your own doorstep or dip your pen in company ink were sentiments he agreed with. He was often slightly attracted to younger women, either at work or in other social situations, but other than perhaps a dance or a few quick kisses he didn't follow them up. He often wondered whether that was due to self-control or the attraction not being strong enough. As he sat alongside his new nurse, their hips touching, his arm along the back of the sofa just inches from her golden, blonde hair that she had tied up onto a tight bob and which he was dying to unravel, he was staring at her. At the clear outline of her bra strap through the thin tunic, at the length of her white, nylon covered legs poking out from the hem of the coat, at the flatness of her stomach and the swell of her breasts. It was all he could do to stop himself putting his hand onto her shoulder. He knew then that if it was the attraction not being enough that was reason he hadn't gone further with other women. That would most certainly not be the situation with his dangerous new assistant, he smiled. * Sammi was not particularly promiscuous, but like many of her generation she did not see sex as being something that should be restricted or reserved for 'the man in your life.' Her view was that it was something to be enjoyed. She'd had quite a few partners with the relationships varying in length from a few hours with the two or three one night, or in one instance in Spain afternoon, stands, to, when she was at nursing college after uni, a year long near engagement situation. At present she was not on the look out for a potential husband, she had all her life ahead of her for that. She took life pretty much as it came at her and sex was included in that. If she was with a guy, they fancied each other and the opportunity and location were on, she was generally up for it and thus, they generally fucked. After university and nursing college she was employed in several hospitals. She worked enormous hours and life outside the medical world was restricted and hence, most of her boy friends in the past few years had been in the profession, most had been doctors and most had been much older than her. She had no compunction whatsoever about going with a guy irrespective of his age, to her it simply was irrelevant. Apart from obviously needing to fancy him she had only one other caveat that she thought of as her moral way; she would not go with men who were in relationships and particularly not married ones. So involved had she been in the amazing goings on of the past few days, Sammi had forgotten about the date she had that evening with an anaesthetist from Guys Hospital, just along the Euston Road from where Sammi lived. Luckily her Blackberry reminder buzzed as she and Mike were finishing up. "Woops I have to run, if that's ok Mike." "Sure sorry to have kept you so late on your first day." "Oh that's ok," she said struggling into the dark blue cloak that had been delivered to the clinic from Emma during the day. "I made this er appointment." "Let me," Mike said seeing how she was struggling with the cloak. "Oh right, yes thanks." He held it for her, she stepped back into it and he laid it on her shoulders using all his resistance to stop his hands slipping down her front and grasping her breasts. "There, how's that?" He asked as they both seeme4d to stand still for a few moments. "That's good, thanks." "You were saying?" He asked as Sammi moved away and turned to face him looking, he thought a little flushed. "Was I? What?" "Made an appointment?" "Oh right, yes I made it before I knew I would be coming here, I won't make them so early in future, sorry." Mike smiled at her. He beamed that warm friendly, panties wetting inducing smile as he rasied his eyebrow and said. "You enjoy your date Sammi." She smiled back. "Thanks Mike." Why the hell he said it he had no idea. "And you can tell me about it tomorrow. "Which way?" Sammi asked looking over her shoulder as she felt his hands on her hair. "Straight up, that's how you prefer it, I assume" Paul replied with a smile as he flipped the clip and comb from her hair and pulled it down. "Mmm, that's better." He kissed her softly on her lips and "Murmured, now get up those stairs." They'd had dinner in a pasta joint near Russell Square and had strolled into Fitzrovia where Paul lived. He was in his early forties and divorced and had been chasing Sammi for some time having known her when he was married. She had come fairly near to breaking her 'no married men' rule with him, but had held out. She told him the reason she wouldn't go to bed with him as they sipped luke warm coffee from a machine in paper cups in the staff restaurant of the hospital in the middle of the night. "So if I wasn't married?" He smiled, holding her hand. "Maybe," Sammi smiled back enjoying her hand being stroked. They kissed as they strolled into Gordon Square and Paul pulled her into an office doorway as they turned the corner into Percyr Street. He cupped her breasts and they kissed again. "My flat is literally just round the corner and there is no missus Paul now." Sammi felt incredibly horny, something that rarely affected her. "You'd better lead the way then hadn't you?" She said as he took her hand and directed her to a four story Georgian townhouse. He'd opened the shiny black front door and had let her walk past him. There were three doors and a flight of stairs. Sammi was thinking. 'This is crazy, not only am I letting him take me to his bed, but I have to be up early and in work by seven tomorrow. 'I must be fucking bonkers.' ' As she turned and started up the stairs and as Paul put his hands round her right onto her breasts, she began to rather think she was. And when they got half-way up and she felt his hands on the waist band of her hipsters pulling at them she was convinced she must. She grabbed hold of her trousers and stopped him. "What's the matter?" "Don't." "Why not?" He asked sounding innocent and making her protest sound slightly ridiculous. "Someone might come." Laughing he said. "Yes, us I hope and soon, but no one else Sammi." "How can you be sure?" She asked holding on tightly to the waist-band, which he was still pulling with both hands as they hovered half-way up the staircase. "Well for a start, I haven't invited anyone else, I didn't think you would want that our first time and secondly the flat downstairs is empty." "Oh I see." "You sound almost disappointed, should I have invited someone else?" "No don't be daft." "Then my lovely lady, let go and keep walking, slowly. One step at a time as I tell you." Sammi was almost mesmerised, as if hypnotised by the effects that Mike and Emma seemed to be having on her. She took her hands away and lifted one foot up to the next stair. As she did, so she felt her trousers waistband slipping down her hips. 'It's all so matter of fact,' she thought, 'So taken for granted, so as if having sex was the most natural thing in the world?' She supposed that was the way of the world she was moving into. The way of the world of senior consultants, doctors, recruitment agency owners and older men. 'It's just a commodity really' an aspiring neurosurgeon had once told her as he removed her panties. She was brought out of deeper thinking by Paul saying softly, yet with authority. "Move your other foot up to that stair and stand still." Just momentarily she hesitated and thought of stopping, but the need and desire in her overwhelmed such reservations. She did as he said and felt her jeans being rolled over the swell of her bottom. By the feel of the air on her skin, she guessed the top was now about level with the start of the crease of her bum. Sexually Dysfunctional Pt. 02 "Do the same again," he directed. She did and this time they came further down. Looking down, she could see at the front that at least half of her thong was uncovered so reckoned that most of her cheeks were on view. "Mmmmm gorgeous," Paul murmured, running his fingers over each cheek and adding in an American accent. "You've got a great ass baby." He made her continue like that two more times, which took her trousers down to her knees and got them to the door of his flat. He unlocked it and they almost fell inside. Before even closing the door, they immediately kissed. All of her pent-up need for him, her concerns, worries, guilt and excitement blended together into an explosion of feelings and emotions as his tongue surged into her willingly opened mouth. He was pulling at her clothes, undoing the zip of the top and with her help, struggling that off; he rolled the scooped front, yellow cotton top upp and with no hesitation whatsoever, not that she wanted any, slid his hand onto her breast. "That looks great," he grunted staring at her small breasts. "And they feel even better," he said easing both orbs out of the bra. Still without shutting the door, he squashed her back against the wall and pressed himself against her. 'God he's so hard' was her immediate thought as she felt his erection pressing into the soft, slight bulge of her tummy. She squirmed against him, revelling at the base of his erection putting pressure on her clit. Sammi's hand slid down Paul' back and into the waist-band of his track trousers. She pushed further until she felt the cheeks of his bum. It was so beautifully smooth and taught, it made her shudder with want. She pulled on the waistband so it came down a little way, not as far as hers but so that at the back it was level with the middle of his gorgeous cheeks. It was then that her mind was flooded with other visions, her imagination ran riot and her brain was filled with images. They were images of Mike and of Emma. Her hands were on Mike's bum, it was his cock that was pressed against her, but it was Emma who was kissing her. 'She's up for it and ready for it,' Paul was thinking as he ground his hard on against her. 'Game, set and nearly match' he almost muttered enjoying the putty in his hands. It was a splendidly sordid scene. Sammi, a young nurse was squashed against the wall in the tiny hallway inside the still open door of the small flat. Paul, a forty something year old senior anaesthetist at a leading London teaching hospital was pressed firmly against her. They were kissing and pawing each other. Her top was rolled up, almost round her neck and her pert breasts were hanging out from the tiny, lace bra. The waist of her jeans was around her knees, his grey track trousers round his hips. It was wonderfully wanton, but neither could really appreciate that for they were so into giving and taking excitement, their minds thought no further than the other's body. Well with Sammi that wasn't quite true for her thoughts were not really on Paul, but on Emma and mike. Jesus what a fucking scene she was thinking. Paul suddenly grabbed her. He pulled her across the small landing and turned her round facing a square table. "Bend over," he growled, pushing against her head. 'God what an arse,' Paul thought looking at the exquisite peach shape roundness of female flesh in front of him. He pushed his trousers and fashionably baggy Y fronts down in one go. His respectably sized, extremely hard cock sprang free. The feel as he pressed it against her bum, its length fitting nicely into her crease, which was slightly open due to her parted legs, was delicious; she squirmed back against him, imagining it was her new bosses cock. Paul didn't bother taking her panties off, he simply got hold of the slither of lace and satin of the blue thong and pulled it to one side. Her anus and the lips of her cunt were exposed, on view and right in front of him. "You ready Sammi?" He asked. Her heart was pounding, her pulses were racing, she was panting and her legs were turning to jelly. It was the combination of the extreme sexual arousal brought about by the events of the past few days together with her feelings for Mike and Emma that made her feel so intensely horny. She whimpered. "Yes." The feeling as he surged up her was indescribable. Not just from a physical viewpoint, but also, if anything, more from how her emotions were reacting. 'Another man is in me. It should be Mike, but it was Paul. No it shouldn't be Mike, he has a partner, but try as she might she could not imagine that face on the end of the cock that was now starting to fuck her as being anyone's other than Mike Stevens the eminent consultant psychiatrist for whom Sammi now worked. ' As he had first entered her, Paul had grabbed hold of her slim hips, but was now reaching round her and squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples. "Is it good Sammi?" He asked rubbing her breasts and slipping and down her well lubricated passage. "Oh yes, yes," she moaned back her head resting on her arms on the table. "I want to make you cum Sammi, hard and long, is that what you want?" "Yes, yes I do," she sighed back. He stood up straighter. He once more held her hips, in fact he gripped them and grunted. "Then I am going to fuck you now, hard and fast." And he was true to his word. Leaning slightly backwards, which pushed his stomach and hips forward, he gripped Sammi's hips firmly and started thrusting in and out of her. Faster, harder, quicker and deeper he went. It was glorious. It was so long since she had been fucked like this. Her entire body came alive, all of her being responded. Her mind and body joined together in one explosion of mounting pleasure as her so needed orgasm quickly built up. "Oh yes. Oh my God, yes, yes." she moaned gripping the table, closing her legs and squirming back against his ramming cock. It was awesome. She was a good fuck, Paul thought as he held his hand on the back of her neck squashing her face against the table and seeing her tits, still half in the white bra, dangle over the edge of it. She didn't just take it, she gave back as well. She pushed back, she closed her legs, even crossing them to increase the grip of her cunt lips on his cock and for her to wring more pleasure from the shag. She moaned and groaned and writhed her body against the table. "Is it good Sammi?" "Yes it's good, its very good" she mewed reaching behind her, fumbling her hand between her bum and him and finding his balls. "It's very, very good." For him to accept her hand there, which was actually rather nice, he couldn't shag her very hard, it was in the way. "Move your hand luv, there'll be plenty of time for that later, but now is the time for me to fuck you properly." He gripped her hips more firmly, pulled her a little straighter then crashed his cock deeply in and almost out of her, in a fast, but even rhythm. As he surged in, so they both revelled at the sound and feel of his balls slapping against her upper thighs. It was just what she needed to change the nice, warm, tingly pangs of sensation oozing from her clit and breasts, into rushing torrents of emotional and physical sexual lava. The extra friction, pace and thrusting was what Paul also needed to change the mild tingling in his balls into a storm of urging sensations as his impending explosion built up steam. Their orgasms erupted as good as simultaneously. "Oh my fuck" he grunted shoving himself as far into Sammi as he could and holding himself there rigid and taught. "I'm cumming, I'm cumming." "Yes, yes, cum for me, cum. " "I am, I am," he grunted back his fingernails digging deep into the excess flesh on her hips as he held himself almost upright and let his cock explode sending torrents of sperm shooting deep inside Sammi. Even before she felt that wonderful, extra throbbing of a cock as Paul approached ejaculation, Sammi's emotional and physical responses had, like the proverbial volcano started to erupt. And, as she felt him starting to cum they completely erupted and became a flood of searing hot, orgasmic sensations. She moaned and she groaned, grunted and sighed. She crossed her legs to increase and prolong the sensation, then opened them and closed them again. She gripped the table and bit the back of her wrist, pushing that into her mouth to suppress what might otherwise have been a loud scream. Her legs felt like jelly and her knees started to buckle as Paul collapsed onto her back. With him still embedded in her, they sank to the ground, Sammi half on her side, Paul lying on her back as she moaned. "Oh god, oh yes, oh Mike that was............oh fuck it." * The flat was dark when she got home, but she heard the TV on in Roni's room. The others weren't home yet. It was just her and Ron, big cuddly, noisy, sexy Ron. She knocked on her door. "Come in," Roni replied. "No I won't," Sammi said poking her head round the door and seeing that her friend was in bed. "Oh hi luv," Roni said, sitting up causing the sheet to slip almost off her full, big nippled breasts, that Sammi suddenly thought, "I have sucked." "You sure?" "Better not it's been a hell of a long, tough day." "I see, so you got to fuck him then, that was quick, even by your standards." Sammi laughed. "No, not yet." "You'd like to then?" "Well Ron he is absolutely drop dead gorgeous." "Then it won't be long, just remember you have got a friend with big tits who gives great head if he fancies a threesome" Laughing Sammi said, "You crude scouse git, I'm going to bed." As Sammi pulled the delicate pink folds open and placed her fingertip right alongside her clit it was all she could do to stop herself going into Roni's room and saying. "Roni, please come to bed with me, please make love to me, please fuck me." She didn't though, for she knew that just as earlier in the evening when Paul had physically fucked her, it had emotionally been Mike, if she had sex with Roni, emotionally she would be having it with Emma. What a fucking mess she was thinking as she made herself cum.