Susie closed the file, and the pages fluttered as the manila folder covered them. She leaned back in the wooden chair and pushed back so that the rollers cut a narrow path in the small room's carpeted floor. She inserted her file in the first drawer of her desk. Her eyes closed as she tried to imagine what Harris Foster would look like. It was one of the few mysteries permitted in a job that took sexual intimacy for granted, and even that mystery did not last long-only until she came face to face with a new patient.
The buzzer rang, and she depressed a button at the telephone's base. In the receiver she heard the voice of Dr. Chiver's secretary. "Room 217, Miss Giver." She rose wearily and pushed the phone into its cradle. She had had sex twice in the morning, once with Bob-and once autoerotically, with a specially wired vibrator that was to test the convulsions inside her vagina as she came.
Her bent fingers rolled their knuckles under the numeral 217. But the door had not been completely shut, and it pushed open under the gentle rapping.
All she could see of Harris Foster was his face. Perhaps she had been conditioned by reading his file, but she thought she could read the unhappiness of his marriage in his face. His hair was short, dark, and curly. His eyes were a clear, almost fluorescent blue, but the comers of his mouth seemed bent down to his chin. He was in his late thirties. The features were those of a younger man, inappropriate to middle-age, but the skin itself was a creased patchwork of lines.
The rest of his body was just a smooth cylinder under fresh white sheeting; even his arms were shrouded by the small bed's linen. He seemed stiff, and he did not even blink as she moved closer to the bed in her white nurse's uniform.
"Let instinct be your guide," Dr. Chiver said constantly in his seminars for the associate therapists, and she was beginning to feel more confident of her own perceptions. She eased down at the foot of the bed. Her buttocks pulled on the sheet, which hugged Foster's body more closely as her weight settled. She rested her right hand on her thigh. Foster's eyes turned toward her, though his skull did not move.
"Did they tell you my name?" She knew that they had not, but she was experimenting with new ways to introduce herself, ways that seemed more casual and more natural.
"No." Mucus obscured the real sound of his voice. He coughed; and his arm came from under the sheet to cover his mouth.
"Susie." She was coquettish as she continued. "I know your name-Harris."
He did not move. Susie rose and walked two steps. Her body was even with Foster's neck as she looked down.
"Harris?"
"Yes!" He seemed surprised.
"Do you want me?"
There was an instant of silence. "Yes," he said slowly.
She opened her hand. Her palm pressed down on the sheet. His breast-bone was apparent. Her fingers rolled over the muscular flesh until he found the delicate cherry-colored nipples. He breathed deeply, and his hips rose from the mattress as his heels dug into it. He relaxed as Susie came closer. Her lips pressed down on the linen and left red outlines of their shape. Her tongue pushed from between them to wet the sheet with droplets of saliva. Harris Foster sighed as her breath flowed through the sheet and warmed his chest.
Susie rolled the slight flab that lined the man's belly. Blood pumped inside his cock; a gleaming bead of semen drooled onto the underside of the sheet. With her other hand, she raised the sheet and began to massage his sides. The white cloth obscured her head like a tent. He felt her hair float over his chest as her tongue moistened his short black hairs. Her right hand went back and forth over his waist, and the side of her hand -bumped first one pelvic bone and then the other.
She let her breasts, enclosed in a confining brassiere, rest at last on the mattress at her lover's side. She took his hand, which lay stiffly at parade rest, and her own tightened around it. Encouraged, he gripped one cone-shaped breast in his hand and squeezed it inside its case. The tit rustled awake, and the first sensations of pleasure stirred inside Susie.
Her pinky awkwardly bent below his stomach to discover the pubic hair, coarse and long. She looked at Foster. The pressure of the fingertip made him wince, and his eyes remained closed. She knew why. Gently, the four fingers swept down through the growth to a tiny erection, not much more than a two-inch phallic stump. The diameter was no more than a half-inch. Her thumb pushed in at the flattened side of the shaft. The third finger's sharp nail cut the wrinkled skin as it pulled it from the glans. Instinctively, Susie spread her legs as she dove for the tiny cock.
Harris Foster's hands sweated as he pushed the palms into the mattress. Her tongue rolled over the prick like the soft waves a patient ocean delivers to the sand. Her mouth was still for a moment, and the edges of her front teeth held him clamped between enamel borders. Foster moaned softly and bit the comer of his twisting lips.
Susie stopped abruptly. Every muscle in his body tensed as though he were waiting for assault. As her mouth left his body and she -stirred so that she lay on top of him, he opened his eyes. The lids drew back on the white. The pupils dilated, as if with fright, though she did not notice.
"What's wrong?"
"I was going to ask you that."
"What? I don't under-"
"Your body is like a spring, like an alarm clock ready to go off and wake someone up."
Foster's brow wrinkled. He began to speak, but gave up with a sigh.
Her fingers began to play absent-mindedly with his flesh. She scraped the skin softly but did not push in toward the bone. "Can you tell me why you won't relax?"
"Come on," he said, cynicism the message of his slow smile. "You didn't even have to open your mouth wide to blow me."
"But this way I could have all of it inside my mouth. That's nice for a woman, instead of having to struggle."
He looked suspiciously at the woman whose weight pressed his. "My wife married me, and she doesn't even like it. It's not big enough for her." He paused between sentences as if to catch his breath during a series of sprints. "She makes me wear a fake. "
"Why do you let her get away with that?"
"Huh?" Foster was disappointed as she rolled off of him. Her arm fit under his neck, and her fingers pressed at his naked shoulder. He felt her stomach pulse with breathing against the outside of his leg.
"I asked you why you -let her get away with that. "
"I wanted to make her come. She couldn't come with… just me."
"Have you ever read a single book that said the size of the penis makes any difference."
"Maybe they don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. But it matters to Ruth. You should hear her talk- about dongs. I see her in a roomful of people, and her eye scans every male crotch there. Later she tells me which ones had hard-ons, and how big they were."
"She sounds like a bitch."
"Not really." Foster was defensive. "It's not her fault I'm so small."
"The clitoris is what's really important. And the size of a penis doesn't matter there." Susie took his hand in hers. She pulled at the hem of her uniform and bowed her body backwards. Below the layer of sheer white panty the bristle of pubic hair was obvious. Her thumb pulled at the elastic band, and she shook her hips as the brief brushed her thighs.
Her thumb and forefinger pushed in at the sides of Foster's wrist, and she felt his fingers point straight out from the hand. She gripped him more tightly, and his fingertips glided through the silken strands until she drilled the first joint of the forefinger to the clit. She eased her whole body toward the pinpoint of pressure. "There, you see?" she sighed. "That feels fine, just fine." Moisture seeped from the walls of the vagina. She ground her torso and then bumped forward. Harris' forefinger slipped easily inside the box, perspiring with cunt-grease.
Her own thumb covered his. She forced it against the button, and he rolled it energetically. It grew and stiffened under the prodding. She reached behind her and grabbed her own left ass-cheek in her hand. She bent her spine and thrust her pelvis forward, closer to Foster's hand. "Finger my other hole." Her voice was hard-edged, seductive, indicating need as much as desire. In a trance, the patient's index finger found the tight rectal entrance. She swiveled down as he stuffed the whole length of the bone inside the warm orifice.
Foster's other hand fumbled for the buttons at the back of her white dress. She inhaled and tried to compress her breasts, so that the bra would come off more easily. The uniform peeled off to her waist, exposed a flash of pink diaphragm. Susie leaned forward, and her warm hillocks swept over the flat, hard surface of Foster's chest. His hand turned back toward him as he stuck one finger inside the cunt and the other, at the same time, inside the rectal chute.
Susie reared back. Her left breast collided with her patient's chin. His mouth opened as if automatically and sucked the red cap deep inside. She felt wet suction pull in on the stiffening nipple. The edges of his lower front teeth grated the sharp erection at the areola's tip, and she squirmed so that his finger twisted inside the twin cavities.
Foster pulled his fingers out and reversed them. She felt anal warmth and dryness push forward into the pussy, as the sweat that covered the other finger meshed with the lubrication inside the sphincter.
She rose to her knees and then leaned back, putting her weight on her palms. Like tentacles, her slender limbs thrust forward, enclosing his body. "Come closer. Sit up. I want you to fuck me." She held his small thing inside her folded hand, her thumb pressed at the shaft's base. The side of her thin forefinger ran over the glans. His head shone with gummy pearl-white liquid.
Susie raised her legs and clamped them tightly around her partner's waist. Her palms cupped his shoulders, and she rose until the cock's head was against her hole. The dork slid easily inside the break. She took his hand and encouraged the stiff fingers to play with the loose flesh at the opening.
Her buttocks settled on his thighs. His legs flexed at the knees. He groaned as his thin tool shot inside the box. Her fingers pressed his wrist and drew his fingertips even harder against the twat-lips. With her other hand she massaged the small of his back while its thumb poked his pelvic bone. He began to move with violent jerks, but she knew he was merely simulating orgasmic thrusts to make her come. She moved up and to the side. As she did, the opening stretched wider. The penis was like a pencil close to one side of the dilated reddish-pink ring.
His hands rolled the ass-flesh that was partially covered by her uniform. He tried to draw her closer to his groin as he smashed deeper within the drooling vagina.
Even though he was small, she could feel him growing. She felt the most minute expansion in size. He jabbed her clit with his thumb while his fingers stroked the hollows in her thighs.
"Oh, that's nice… That's real nice," purred Susie. The cock seemed to stir from the path it had repeated a dozen times already. It sprang in a spasm inside of her. This sparked new sensations in the well-oiled walls, and she began to speed her counterthrusts toward the pale, hair-covered penis.
Her breasts rolled over his torso as she shivered and leaned to one side, then the other, stretching her box. She tugged on the bag and seized one of his balls until he winced with pain.
"Yes… yes… yes!" she cried, and as she galloped, his ass left the bed while his legs straightened. He guided her body by the sides of her floating breasts and tried to drill her close to him. His own heels pushed in at her buns, which were sealed closely as Susie started to come. She jammed the tip of her index finger up against the buried part of the shaft, and this precipitated the first wad of cream that soaked inches of the cavity's already-wet interior.
Her body rocked against his. His cock started to shrivel inside her cunt. She played gingerly with the scrotum, and her index finger stroked the buried part of the deflating organ.
She pulled on the covering skin. His naked glans brushed the warm flesh of her oozing quim. She tightened the grip and felt him begin to erect again. Just as suddenly, she rose up and bent the board downwards, thrusting her beaver against the dome. He felt the friction of the clit over the cut, still coated with the come it had delivered.
She lifted her leg and turned herself around. She stationed her head between his sprawled legs. Her lips touched the sheets between his knees. She bucked her hips and found the small cock beneath her. She gripped his soles and, elbows on the bed, rose until her clitoris brushed his mouth with the hair and tissue that surrounded it.
Foster's fingers spread the waiting lips of the moist organ. He arched his back and pushed into the cleft. Susie shook her hips and rolled the inside of her mouth around the penis shape. She came 'up off of it and, on her knees, rolled the cock through the flaps of beaver-flesh before sitting down and covering it. Foster saw only the movement of her ass as she bobbed up and down.
Foster awkwardly moved to his knees, trying to force himself deeper. His heels pushed into the rims of his buttocks, and his hands encircled her thighs-thumbs pushing in at the sides of the upper legs, while the fingers compacted the inner thighs closer toward his body. Her muscles were tense as she tried to keep position. The cock moved inside her, and she clamped the vaginal muscles together around it. His hands traveled from her stomach to the undersides of her breast. The flat of his index finger rubbed the nipple until it was stiff. His other hand cupped the other one. He poked ahead until their pubic hair twined into a single net.
In a retreating stroke, the penis slipped from the hole; Susie reached between her spread legs to seize it and bring it back to the warm berth. Sweat coated her body and streamed from her clean-shaven armpits. Their skins slid against each over with each new thrust. Foster's breathing was like the labored wheezing of an old truck. Her pumping heart felt level with her eardrums. Her tongue touched her lower lip, but as he pushed forward, her upper teeth cut into it and she groaned, half because of the unexpected pain, half m disappointment at the backward movement of his cock-but the latter sensation was relieved as he jabbed her again.
His back ached, and he began to slow from fatigue. Realizing this, she lifted herself off him. On her knees, she crawled to his face. Her legs spread around his skull; he inhaled the sweet-sour musk. The filament brushed against his lips. His tongue extended out and licked a cluster of hairs while she squirmed and pushed her groin down on his twisting lips. He stuck a finger inside the moist cavity and separated the lips. His tongue licked the walls in quick flashes; his lips pursed and drew the fragments of flesh between his upper and lower teeth. The enamel just barely touched the twat s moist skin.
Her fingers poked his ribs. Her legs stretched out and sidled against him until she was even with the length of his body. She shook her head. Her hair blew wild as she tongued his lips. Her forefinger played with his neck skin; she pushed the hair away and sucked his ear between her lips. Her tongue flagged until, finally, she impatiently bit the earlobe. She grabbed his dong and the creased scrotum. He groaned while she yanked the bag, and again she thrust her mouth over his. Now her stroking was delicate, as he poured himself inside the pink cove. He scraped her lips before massaging the inside of her cheek with his tongue. His hand found her crotch; two fingers jammed the snatch. The rhythm was monotonous, but Susie sucked in on the twin bones. She scratched the back of his' hand as it moved toward her.
One hand played with the buttock-cheek while the other fingered her. A sloshing sound bubbled from the hole. Her ass rose, and then her cunt drowned the wading fingers. She rubbed the hair-covered skin to the side of the box with her fingertips, and his hand drew away from her privates to aim his prick into her. She swallowed it in one downward motion. She bent from side to side, forcing the head close against each wall, before she arched her spine and began to hump the whole bone.
His fingers touched the swelling of her buttocks while his fingers pushed at her stomach between the pelvic bones. Her hand massaged the slickness that covered the labia, and she rubbed the moisture into the pink skin underneath his own hairs. Her index and forefinger separated around the narrow board as it pushed toward her womb.
Susie's own finger traveled back, covered with sticky water from her hole, to her rectum, and.she played with the tight bung until the first two joints of the finger penetrated steaming ging.
She lay flat on him now, unmoving, as he shot his slim prick through the greased canal and played with the loose ass muscle. Her toes pushed into the mattress. The bed creaked as she bounced evenly, jiggling with him inside her vagina. She stuck her fingertips against the base and separated the small almonds. She threw one leg and then the other to the side of Foster's head, and she kissed his cheeks with her slippery tongue while jamming her chest flat against his. The feel of her tits hardening next to his muscle excited him and sent the blood surging from its root to its head.
She reached behind and hooked her forearms under his legs, which he had brought up behind her and bent at his knees. She pressed on the tight calf muscles as she hurried up and down the stick. The moisture in her organ made friction difficult, but as he was on the edge of coming Foster grabbed hold of her breasts and rubbed it with the back of his calloused hand. His teeth jutted into the slope of the breast, and she came down on the cock in quick and almost mechanical thuds. His foam exploded, covering the walls of her vagina, and swam toward the end of the passage.
As he grew smaller the cunt-walls constricted around the member and slowed its deflation. Her breathing was loud, like wind rushing. She rubbed her own stomach lightly with her palm and Foster's with the back of her hand. The glue started to congeal in her box and dry around the reduced staff. Susie made no move to end the contact.
"Were you faking?"
She laughed at the question, but her mouth did not smile and her eyes were concerned as she answered. "The whole idea of the clinic is to enable people to satisfy themselves and their partners. What sense would it make if I tried to fake, whether I was or not?"
He did not answer her question, but asked her another one instead. "Was I good then?"
"Good enough," she laughed, her fingers skating on the surface of his stomach.