Dr Allens New Patient Ch 05

A few hours after Sally had come home from her harrowing ordeal, Vincent drifted off to sleep while still at his desk. A little while later, he woke up with a stiff neck and back. He glanced at his watch; it was about 15 minutes until 8 am, so he hurriedly proofread the first draft of his thesis paper, made corrections, and finally emailed it to his Graduate Studies advisor. He then got up to go to the bathroom. Not more than a minute there, he noticed several bloody wet wipes, cotton balls, and swabs in the trash. Remembering it was Sally who had last used the bathroom, Vincent was now curious as hell about what she was doing out at such a late hour, not to mention what might have been the cause for so much blood. His first impulse was to knock on Sally's door and ask if she was okay.

"Sally, are you there?" he inquired, quietly knocking on her door. No answer. Since it was after 8 am, Vincent figured she had already left for work.

When Sally finally came home later that day, Vincent was already out, and the crucial moment of worry and curiosity had somewhat subsided.

**********

At her next therapy session, Sally was feeling reluctant about revealing more to Dr. Allen concerning her relationship with Damian. This was on the heels of finally disclosing the source of the scars on her back. Dr. Allen, sensing the young girl's uneasiness, graciously asked if she'd like a glass of water.

"Yes, thank you", she politely replied, slowly starting to relax.

Since the last session, Dr. Allen had been meaning to ask Sally about her recent dogged-looking attire. He knew it was not customary for therapists to ask patients questions that didn't directly pertain to their issues; however, he surmised Sally's recent "worn-out" look might have had something to do with her guy. Dr. Allen himself was curious about why the girl was dressing so "poorly" as of late, wearing shoes, pantyhose, and clothes all in states of disrepair.

"Well, since I found Damian, I've been feeling more comfortable in rags. I don't feel the need to buy clothes anymore. From now on, it's just what I have in my closet, and if it wears out, then who cares? I've decided now to live simply, and will no longer fall into the trap of paying good money for useless things."

After another minute of reflection, Sally added, "It's good to be simple and humble. That's how I was meant to be all along, and I've never been happier in my whole life. I mean, I finally get to do things with Damian I've always dreamed of doing, dressed in rags no less."

Dr. Allen took the bait. "What have you always dreamed of doing?"

"I've always wanted to slow dance with someone. You see, Doctor, I'd gone to dances before back in high school, and to a few dance clubs with friends after that. But I always ended up just sitting there, because no one ever asked me to dance." For a second, Sally looked sad, but then she looked up, and her expression suddenly brightened. "So, when Damian first appeared, he came up to me and held out his hand; I took it as an offer, an offer to dance. He wanted to dance with me."

"So you've danced with him?"

"Yes. One night, a nearby dance club was playing its music really loud. Damian and I could hear it from the alley. Then, a slow love song came on, and he got up and extended his hand. I took it. We began to slow dance to the music. It was my very first slow dance ever. That was when he started calling me his Angel." Although Damian knew very well her name was Sally, he thought 'Angel' was much more fitting. 'Sexy Angel' was more like it.

Sally started up again, "Doctor, you know what's nice? I can be as sweet as I want with Damian. I can stare into his eyes as long as I want. I can cook him delicious dishes, like a woman would do for her man. At the same time, I can kiss him as passionately as I want, and suck on his cock for as long as my heart desires. I can reveal to him what's truly inside me. I'm totally free to express how I feel. I'm happy."

**********

Vincent needed to unwind after having worked nonstop to perfect the first draft of his thesis. Now he needed to just hang out with his buddies and have a few beers. He could finally relax after being cooped up in his room for the last few weeks, having been stressed out about his studies. Tonight, he and his boys were determined to stay out late and get wasted; and if they happened to pick up some hot chicks along the way, even better.

"Yo, dude!" one of his buddies, Colin, elbowed him. "Snap out of it, man!" he gestured to Vincent by waving his open palm in front of the young man's face. Vincent and his two friends found themselves at the most popular bar/hangout in the university village. But at the moment, Vincent had been lost in thought, trying to figure out what was going on with his boarding house roommate, Sally.

"Oh sorry, I was just thinking", Vincent spoke up, snapping out of his pensive zone.

"Hey dude, forget about the paper. We're here to take a load off, right? No more thinking about that damned thesis!" the other classmate, Ralph, chimed in.

"Yeah, alright", Vincent answered, going along with them, although he had no intention of sharing his concern about Sally with his two rowdy buddies. Suddenly, he heard one of them exclaiming excitedly.

"Hey, look at that!" Colin motioned to the other two, directing their eyes towards three young attractive girls at the end of the long bar. The girls were obviously undergraduates, as each had the look of a sister from one of the more exclusive sororities on campus. All three girls were nursing drinks and wearing short skirts, looking unmistakably "available".

"Yeah, man, one for each of us! Let's pick who goes with who", responded Ralph enthusiastically.

"...who goes with whom", Vincent corrected his friend's grammar.

"You mean who gets to fuck whom", added Colin with a wink and a cackle.

Since all three girls were equally stunning, Vincent and his pals decided they should pair up according to height. Vincent was the tallest, and Colin was next, followed by Ralph.

Even with some alcohol in his system, Vincent was still nervous about approaching a pretty girl. In his inebriated state, he still knew the girl he was paired up with was out of his league. However, he had no intention of revealing his insecurity to his buddies. The other two young men, by contrast, had drunken, besides beer, considerable amounts of hard liquor, and had lost damned near all of their inhibitions. Fortunately, Vincent thought, there was safety in numbers, meaning there was little chance of rejection when a group of three would-be suitors was approaching a group of three like-minded girls.

The eager young men, each with dick in hand, sauntered over to the end of the bar where their "game" was waiting; the girls were apparently up for some serious flirting, and possibly even more, if the boys played their cards right.

Vincent's target was a gorgeous blonde who looked like she had just leaped out of a fashion magazine. Putting on his most confident stance and voice, Vincent offered a simple, "Hi there".

"Hi yourself", replied the pretty girl, apparently a willing recipient to his advances. So far, so good, Vincent thought to himself.

"You come here often?" Vincent followed up, almost without thinking. As soon as the cheesy, worn-out line escaped his mouth, Vincent felt like knocking himself over the head with a heavy piece of metal. The girl automatically rolled her eyes and wished one of the other young men in the group had approached her, instead of this "Bozo".

"Uh, could you please excuse me? I have to go to the bathroom", the tall blonde retorted, taking her drink with her. She soon disappeared from sight, leaving Vincent standing alone. He was now feeling like a pathetic loser. He felt even worse when he looked over at his buddies a few feet away, and saw they were both busily chatting with their respective mini-skirt-sporting prey.

This was not the first time Vincent had felt like a "clueless sap" in front of a hot girl, having yet again struck out in the art of "the pick up". He painfully admitted to himself that the girl was so obviously out of his league, physically as well as emotionally. And so after about half an hour of waiting for the beautiful blonde to return from the ladies room, Vincent gave up and decided to go home. He gestured to his buddies that he was tired and sleepy (and throwing in the towel). He then made a hasty retreat out of the crowded, noisy bar. "Man, talking to girls these days is brutal!" he quipped, as he walked quickly down the street towards a bus stop.

When he got back to the house, Vincent just decided to crash. It was only 9 pm, but he figured there was no reason to stay up anyway. Besides, he was still tired from burning the midnight oil the last few nights and desperately needed to catch up on his sleep. There was something preventing him, however, from knocking out: the massive boner in his pants. He decided to jerk off to release the tension, and then would try to catch some z's.

While he was stroking his fully-erect cock, Vincent closed his eyes. He envisioned the tall, beautiful blonde from the bar, now naked, bouncing up and down his hard cock.

Since he hadn't masturbated in a few days, Vincent was able to reach orgasm within seconds. Following his familiar routine, he cleaned up his mess, sprinted to the bathroom to wash up, and quickly returned to bed. Almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was off to dreamland.

**********

Weeks passed. After purposely staying up and witnessing many a night of Sally coming home at a very late hour, Vincent's curiosity was piqued and, at this point, could no longer be contained. He had to know where the hell she had been going all this time.

**********

Vincent took great pains to avoid being discovered, lest Sally get the notion that her housemate was following her around like some crazed, obsessed stalker. After using the car he borrowed from his friend to follow Sally's bus downtown, then to Broadway Ave, and then a few blocks further down the street, Vincent was relieved to learn that she was none the wiser when finally reaching that evening's destination: a dirty, smelly alley. As he clandestinely entered the alley, the stench of urine, foul water, rotten food, stale cigarettes, whiskey, and god knows what else in the cluttered makeshift abode almost made Vincent hurl.

Jesus Christ! Is this where Sally had been going all those nights? Is this where she had gotten beaten, where all the blood had originated? Incidentally, Vincent noticed Mrs. Perry's black soup pot with the clear lid, the one which contained the chicken soup from a while back; it was sitting on the filthy, damp floor of the alleyway, next to a wooden crate and some heavy blankets.

Hiding behind an impressive stack of crates that contained rotten fruit and vegetables discarded from a nearby restaurant, Vincent figured this would be the closest he could get to viewing what Sally had in store for the night. Like a detective discovering a secret as a result of careful research, Vincent marveled at what his eyes were now witnessing: Sally was cavorting with a bum; she was having physical relations with a stinky, run-down, genuine vagabond. What in the world...??

Vincent was shocked, and at the same time, aroused by what was unfolding in front of his eyes. Within seconds of greeting her transient lover, Sally was blowing him. Actually, that was the understatement of the year; she was SUCKING THE HELL OUT OF HIM!

Vincent had never seen anything like it, not even in the hottest porn flick, and, truth be told, he had seen his fair share of hot porn flicks!

Was this the same girl who inhabited the room next to his at the boarding house for over a year now? Was this the same girl who was barely able to meet his eyes every time they cordially greeted each other in the hallway?

What followed later was almost surreal. Vincent reckoned he'd never seen so much white skin on Sally before. Usually, she was dressed in frumpy, non-revealing clothes and groomed so conservatively, that she could have been a nun-in-training for all he knew.

Now, she was squatting in front of a man who looked to be at least twice her age, in a filthy alleyway, giving him what appeared to be the blow-job of his life.

Being a young red-blooded male in his early twenties, Vincent had fantasized about many a young sexy girl while jerking off in his bedroom, but he had never quite thought of Sally in the same light, that is, before now. From this moment on, Sally would join the ranks of the sex objects parading through Vincent's horny fantasies, for the ultimate goal of blowing his wad, shooting his load, squirting his spunk, emptying his balls, etc.

At the moment, in fact, right there in the alley, Vincent couldn't resist unzipping his pants, taking out his hard cock, and jerking off to the sight of Sally pleasuring the lucky bastard in front of her. Watching them together was a hot scene straight out of a twisted porno. Like Dr. Allen before him, Vincent got off to the very idea of a young, sweet girl fucking a very much older, more experienced man down in his luck; the sharp contrast between the couple was no joke. Sally and her guy were as opposite as night and day. Her skin was white and smooth, while his was tan and weathered. Her voice was sweet and clear, while his was raspy and rough. Most notably, however, her eyes were wide and bewildered, while his had seen their share of harsh reality. In what other world would these two souls come together in such an unexpected manner?

From the time he moved into the boarding house, Vincent had never so much as heard Sally utter more than a few short phrases at a time. Now, she was ardently spewing out profanities that would make a sailor blush. After having blown her guy for at least a good five minutes, Sally was now telling him in no uncertain terms what she wanted him to do to her.

"Fuck me! Fuck my brains out! Fuck me with your huge throbbing cock, you horny mother-fucker!" she implored. Sally was unstoppable. "Fuck your little slut, baby, I want you to give it to me good! I'm your nasty whore! I want you to fuck me in the ass! Yeah! I want you to cum inside my tight little ass!"

Shit. Vincent could barely contain himself after the smut he just heard coming out of Sally's mouth. Aside from initially dismissing her as someone who was not sexual in the least, he now had the shock of his life: Sally not only loved cock, she wanted it up her ass! What a surprising, twisted world he was living in, Vincent thought to himself.

Sally's older, more experienced lover, for his part, couldn't believe his ears either. Here was a female who didn't need to be asked, cajoled, manipulated, tricked, bribed, or begged for permission to enter her backdoor. Here was a girl who was ready and willing to welcome a man into her tight little virgin ass. Jesus, Damian thought, Sally's virgin pussy had been tight enough to begin with, and now he was about to penetrate her precious little "shit hole"; literally.

**********

After the shock of seeing Sally with her guy had started to wear off, Vincent was now back in his room. He now couldn't help but wonder, "Was that man the one who roughed her up all bloody? And if so, why did Sally continue to visit him?" Hell! Vincent was chock full of questions at this point. But the most crucial one lingering on his mind bore an amazing resemblance to one that had passed through Dr. Allen's mind: "Why on God's Green Earth would a young girl like Sally brave the dangerous streets in the wee hours of the night to be with a jobless, homeless, hapless old alcoholic twice her age?"

Vincent was beyond confused and actually starting to get a bit jealous. Admittedly, he had never given a second thought to Sally before, but that fact notwithstanding, why would a girl in her right mind go to such great lengths to be with a guy with seemingly so little to offer, as opposed to being with a guy who had seemingly more to offer, who was literally right next door to her, right under her nose? What the fuck????

**********

The following Sunday morning, when he was sure Sally was still in her room, Vincent wrapped on her door and asked if they could talk for a bit. To his relief, she answered yes, indicating she would be out in just a minute.

Sally came out into the hallway and closed her bedroom door behind her.

"Can I come in for a second?" Vincent followed up casually, expecting an affirmative answer.

"What did you want to talk about?" Sally replied, while still standing outside her room.

Her cold demeanor struck Vincent as a bit off-putting, but never mind; he was determined to talk to her about the man he had seen her with earlier in the week. "Well, it's about you, Sally", Vincent declared.

Sally was quiet. She was actually surprised Vincent had even bothered to talk to her. After over a year of living in the same house only a few feet away from each other, he had never so much as said more than a few cordial, inconsequential words to her. She didn't, however, let her surprise show, not in her voice, and not on her face.

Vincent was a bit taken aback at how tight-lipped and unemotional Sally was, especially after he recently discovered her talent for moaning, yelling, and screaming loudly and fervently in the presence of her lover.

"Sally, could we sit down somewhere? This doesn't feel right, hanging out in the hallway, when we could be sitting down comfortably having this conversation. How about we go into my room?" Vincent offered as warmly as he could, gesturing for them to step inside.

"What did you want to talk about?" Sally repeated, not budging from where she was standing.

Boy, what a stark contrast from the other night! Vincent was quite dumbfounded. Here was the girl who was hot and heavy for her lover in a dirty alley, and now she was as cold as a glacier, wrapped up and covered in a thick bathrobe barely revealing any skin. Her hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, as opposed to free flowing like it was the other night.

In the back of his mind, Vincent thought Sally, with a little prodding, would be the same Goosey Loosey she had been earlier that week. However, it was becoming apparent that was a side of her Sally reserved for her man.

Since Vincent was more than a little surprised at Sally's aloof manner, he stood speechless there in middle of the hallway. After a minute or two of complete silence between the two of them, Sally was beginning to get impatient, "I have a lot of work to do", she informed him. Vincent still couldn't think of anything to say, so Sally opened her door, stepped back inside, and gently shut the door again.

Vincent could do nothing but go back into his room. He lay down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. "What the hell just happened?" he asked himself, a bit upset and disappointed. But he was also quite surprised to learn that his cock was hard.