Dr Bob And His Dildo

He placed his hands on her pussy, running his fingers through her silky black hair made him more determined to have her alone and lying on the table. Her purring let him know that she was comfortable with the way he touched her. He could do whatever he wanted now. So many women found it uncomfortable to have their pussies fingered in such a way.

"An exceptional beauty," he said.

"My pussy?" she asked, smugly, knowing her pussy made everyone think that way.

"Yes. Most Persians have those ugly pushed in faces, but your pussy is quite lovely. She's very content too."

"Oh Dr. Bob you must say that about everyone's pussy, mine is really no different."

"I assure you I'm being quite honest with you, Ms. Dildo."

"That's Deedoh, the 'L' is silent."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Dildo. You must be French, n'cest pas?"

"Yes my father was very nice, thank you for asking. No I'm half Italian, half German and half Chinese."

She is beautiful he thought to himself, yet something about her didn't add up.

"I would never have guessed looking at you., I thought you were more Swedish with your hair and all."

Dr. Bob couldn't help but notice the way the light reflected off the golden strands of her ebony hair. He thought she could be Swedish or English or both. Swish. Yes, that was it she looked Swish.

"Oh." She smiled and touched her hair. "I hear that so often. You'd be amazed how many people think I'm Swish, you know half Swedish, half English."

This man is handsome as well as able to take care of a girl's pussy. Many men don't really care how a woman feels about her pussy. This man however knew all about pussies. After all, he handled so many in a day.

Phyliss wished she had stayed in school so she wouldn't feel so dull next to him. She wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps, except Phyliss didn't have a peg leg, so she chose to be an outliner, like her father. Not many people realized how difficult it was to draw a chalk line around a body. Years of study in the field and many boxes of chalk made her one of the best around she was always in demand. Her business card read, "A Dildo for every body"

"Ms. Dildo," Dr Bob interrupted her reverie, "I hope you don't mind if I'm impertinent?"

"Not at all, Dr Bob. Many men seem to have that problem nowadays. Have you thought about Viagra?"

"Well not really, I had a bad experience in Canada years ago. All that water...what I meant was, I was wondering if maybe...um.... I could come to your place and check out your pussy there. I usually am not in the habit of asking out patients.... or their owners, but I really think you're. ...Swell."

"Oh my god, he's asking me out! What should I do? He's a handsome doctor that knows how to take care of my pussy."

She looked out toward the audience for dramatic effect only to realize it was a short story with no audience but the reader, you, who is reading this now.

"Does he really like me or is he after my pussy. Other men have wanted only to stroke the soft velvety hair that so few have been allowed to touch. What are his true intentions I wonder?"

"Um, Ms Dildo? I can hear you."

"What?"

"I can hear what you're saying, see the quotation marks there, they mean that you're speaking out loud."

"Oh."

She looked at him with her big emerald eyes that sparkled like coal. She wondered if she should have spoken in italics, but then she remembered, she studied Spanish.

"Are you alright Ms. Dildo? You appear disoriented."

"That's because I'm half Chinese. Dr Bob, would you like to have dinner at my place this evening? You don't need reservations, there's plenty of parking and I love to cook. I don't really get much of a chance to cook for two. I'm either outlining some strange body or taking care of my pussy."

"I would be delighted. It's been a while since I've had a home cooked meal. Not since my mother's passing."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize your mother was...dead."

"What? Oh she's not dead; she just passes by and throws a paper bag with a sandwich in it for me out of the car window. If I'm lucky I get it before the neighbor's shitzu's all over it."

"I would report neighbors like that, that's so wrong and so unsanitary. Shall we say, 6ish?"

"Yes."

"6ish," Breathlessly said in unison.

"I'll see you then Ms. Dildo. And..." handing her Persian cat back to her. "Here is your pussy with a clean bill of health."

"Thank you Dr. Bob." She purred," I'll see you 6ish."

"6ish it is. Ms. Dildo." He barked back at her.

Phyliss Dildo lived in a modest home, it was long and had wheels, but she was no better than any other person in the trailer park. Even though she had the best view of the surrounding landfill and she was upwind from the chemical toilet dump, she was anything but a snob.

Her yard was decorated tastefully with truck tires painted white, which held an assortment of petunias. She also had a beautiful rose bush that she religiously pruned. Phyliss felt that keeping her bush trimmed looked so much better than letting it go wild. Hanging above her awning was a sign she was quite proud of, it read, "I love Pussy" with a little heart in place of the word love. Her next-door neighbors, two lovely girls, Pat and Chris, would always comment on it.

"Hey Phyliss, how's your pussy?" Pat would shout whenever Phyliss was outside bending over her petunias. "Look's pretty damn good from here!"

Then Chris would comment on how well trimmed her bush was, but it would confuse Phyliss whenever Chris mentioned she preferred hers to be shaved.

Phyliss would wave and thank them though she was always puzzled how they could see her pussy from outside. Her pussy rarely saw the light of day. She had gotten used to their odd religious practice of tying a mirror over the tops of their shoes whenever Phyliss wore a skirt.

Glancing up at the clock, which was also a cat with a swinging tail to keep the minutes in time with its shifting eyes. She noticed Dr. Bob would soon be there. She ran to the bathroom for a quick once over.

Her green eyes were like two perfect sapphires tessellated on opposite sides of her perfect nose. Lush pouting lips lay just beneath her nose, which was quite a good spot for them. They were not supermodel pouting lips, but not like strips of liver either. She applied a thin layer of lipstick, not too red but not at all orange, and then blended a highlight of pink before layering on a polyurethane sealer. Perfect.

A tapping on her screen door made her jump and she bumped her head on the ceiling. Dr. Bob was right on time which was perfect for her, she hated when it took a man a long time to come. She walked over to the door to see him standing there, chocolates under one arm, a bottle of wine under the other, and a bouquet of Calla Lilies under his other arm. Unlatching the door she swung it open for him to enter.

"Hello, Dr. Bob. Please come inside," then peering out the door and looking both ways, she added. "It's not safe after dark and there are wolves."

"Thank you Ms. Dildo. May I say your home is quite long?"

"Why yes it is, I was going to get a double but I would have to pay triple so I got the single since it's silly to pay triple for a double when I'm only one person who is single."

"That makes perfect sense to me. Oh! I brought these for you Ms. Dildo. Belgian chocolates, I hope you like them."

"I love their waffles so I'm sure I will."

"Calla Lilies."

"I didn't know they were in bloom again."

"Such a strange flower. My mother carried them on her wedding day."

"What about your father?"

"He was much too heavy for her. I brought some wine for dinner."

"How sweet. I hope you like Italian?''

"I love fettuccini."

"Oh, I don't know much about opera, but I did make spaghetti capybara."

"I'm sure it will be quite comestible considering what I normally eat."

"Not to worry, I have a fire extinguisher."

"What I meant was I'm positive tonight will be a gastronomical marvel."

"I love to gaze at the stars too. Perhaps we can do it after dinner?"

"I would love to do it with you Ms. Dildo."

"No need to be so formal, please call me Phil."

"I shall, Phil, if you call me Bob. Is Phil short for Phyliss?"

"Yes, it is, but the first 'S' is silent. Shall we sit and I'll start to serve?"

Phyliss went to the stove and dipped into her pasta pot. She worried if she had made enough; she had hoped 30lbs would be sufficient for two people. Using her garden rake she scooped the strands of spaghetti into a large bowl and placed it on the table in front of Dr.Bob. Followed by a tureen of sauce and a platter of marble sized meatballs.

"I hope you don't have a problem with tiny meatballs, Bob?"

"No problem there, Phil"

"Oh dear Bob, I forgot bread sticks!"

Bob used his pocket periscope to see Phil over the heaping bowl of pasta. He was enamored with the way she delicately twirled her spaghetti on her fork and heartily shoved it in her luscious mouth. The splattering of sauce gave him impure thoughts and he found himself starting to blush. This woman had class written all over her as well as capybara sauce.

"That's quite alright Phil, I'm not really into breadsticks. I'm more of a donut/bagel man."

Using her knife like a machete, she cut a path through the bowl of pasta as easily as Moses parted the Red Sea. She watched him as he threw the meatballs up in the air and caught them in his mouth. She wondered how she managed to land a date with a man as refined as he. His salt and pepper hair reminded her that she had forgotten oregano. She immediately slid down from the pasta bowl and ran over to her spice cupboard.

Her eyes scanned for the oregano. Salt. Pepper. Saltpeter. Dill weed. Damn, where could the oregano be? Then she spotted a small plastic bag in the corner. It was the herbs that her neighbors Pat and Chris had given her when she had them over. It was the night they said they wanted to have fish tacos, which was also strange because they said they were both experienced muff divers, yet she never saw a boat or scuba gear.

Pulling the bag down, she discarded the small rectangular papers that must have been there to keep the herbs from getting damp. The desert humidity had a way of getting into everything. One of the drawbacks of living in the deserts of Pennsylvania was the scorching humidity; it gnawed its way into everything. It was like a beaver gnawing into pressure treated two by fours to use in building a dam.

She ran around to other side of the table and threw a handful of the herbs onto Dr. Bob's plate.

"Sorry Bob, I forgot the special spices."

"Thank you Phil." He coughed as the dusting of herbs filled his lungs.

He couldn't help but notice how firm her ass looked in her spandex jeans as she bumped into the table after slipping on an escaped meatball that landed on the floor from an over anticipated throw which bounced off of his lower lip causing the meatball to ricochet from his mouth to his water glass, off the pasta bowl and to the ceiling before landing unceremoniously on the floor.

He could feel a stirring in his groin, not like a gas bubble, but more like arousal. As she leaned over to wipe up some of the sauce that had spilled from her collision with the table, he couldn't help but notice that her breasts were like two ferrets chasing each other in a burlap sack. He could smell her perfume and he felt his member start to rise.

"I'm pitching a tent." He thought, "Not a pup tent, but a big tent, like at the circus but without clowns.'

He decided to bring up a lighter topic to talk about to take his mind off of his growing lust. They chatted about the usual dinner topics like Quantum physics, mitochondrial DNA and origami. However, when she said the word origami all he could think of was orgasm, and his dick would tap out Morse code against his thigh, F...U...C...K. He realized he didn't know much about her, only about her pussy, and a man should know more about a woman then what her pussy is like.

"So tell me Phil do you have any siblings?" Bob inquired.

"No, just a brother." Said Phyliss as she nervously strung meatballs together on a strand of spaghetti, which made her think of Christmas garland, which made her think of how wonderful it would be to spend Christmas with this man and making love under the Christmas tree, but not on the tiny village she placed below it, especially where the manger was concerned because after all she could never do it in front of the baby Jesus. She then realized her hands had slipped between her legs creating memories of her own.

"Are you close?" Bob asked.

"What?" The question brought Phyliss back to the present and she distractedly continued to play with her meatball garland.

"Your brother, are the two of you close?" He asked while playing cats in the cradle with a few of the longer strands of spaghetti.

"Oh, that. Well he lives in the state but I haven't seen him in a while, he's sort of the black sheep of the family. He was quite a handful."

"A real firecracker, huh?"

"No more like a fire starter. He's an arsonist...but reformed. In fact he did have a job in a lumber yard for a while, but he had to quit."

"He was tempted by all the wood there?"

"No, the knot holes, he also had an incredibly abnormally high libido and the temptation was too much, not to mention the splinters."

Phyliss was going through her own private hell of wanton thoughts and feelings. The smell of his Old Spice made her long for the sea.

When he stood up to demonstrate the proper way to rectally examine a giraffe her eyes were like magnets and his crotch was a refrigerator. She had outlined a lot of males in her time, but Dr. Bob was an exceptional display of manhood. In her mind she could see him lying sprawled on the ground as if he had fallen from a building, all splayed out before her, but without the blood and splattered internal organs. She wanted nothing more but to run her chalk around his firm, ripe body.

She decided it was time for dessert and as Dr. Bob poured them some wine from the carton, she presented a platter of puff pastries, petite fours, Napoleons and cream puffs she had learned to make after studying at the Cordon Bleu, where she graduated top s in her class and was given the Elizabeth Crocker award. It had been her dream once to own her own dinner, a lovely roadside stop that was a shiny silver trailer shaped like a bullet, a silver bullet like her vibrator only much larger and not in need of batteries.

Her thoughts were turning to sex again and it didn't help to watch Bob sucking and licking the cream out of the cream puffs. His tongue swirled in the opening where she inserted the tube of filling. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to be that cream puff.

Dr Bob was getting stiffer as he watched her lick the chocolate off her éclair, her tongue using long flat strokes up the length of that lucky bun. When she placed her whole mouth over the pastry and sucked the cream out of the top, then dove back down over it again and again to get to the cream that lay lower inside, using the patented vacuum motion technique, he felt his heart beginning to pound and made a mental note to check and see if her trailer hitch still had chrome on it.

"Bob, would you like something else?" asked Phyliss as she held two cupcakes in front of her chest, both with a cherry in the middle.

"What?" The question as well as the blob of cream hanging off her chin distracted Bob.

"I asked you if you are interested in something else. Coffee perhaps?"

"Oh yes. Coffee would be fine. Um...Phil, you have some cream hanging off your chin, if you come closer I can lick it off you...I mean wipe it off you."

Phyliss couldn't believe her ears and well as her sloppiness. She decided it was now or never and she would jump in with both feet, since they came as a set and she wondered if it was the wine or the spices that made her want to jump his bones. "Bob, at the risk of sounding like a loose and brazen harlot, a shameless trollop, or even a filthy whore, I would prefer you lick it off."

The sound of Bob's chair hitting the floor made Phyliss jump slightly and before she knew it, she was in Bob's arms.

"It would be my pleasure Phil." Like the St. Bernard's he treated often, Bob used his tongue to lap at Phyllis's chin; long flat strokes cleaned her chin as well as some of her makeup.

Phyliss grabbed a roll of paper towels and wiped her face. No man had ever given her a tongue bath like that before and this had her swooning. "Kiss me Bob, kiss me like no man has ever kissed a woman, I mean not like how you would kiss your mother or an Aunt, but like a woman who isn't your sister or niece. Kiss me like Marc Anthony kissed Cleopatra, like George Burn's kissed Gracie Allen, like how Seigfried kisses Roy. Kiss me long and hard, kiss me with wild abandon, kiss me underneath the bearded barley, kiss me like..."

Bob placed his hand over Phyliss' mouth. "Shut up Phil and let me kiss you, like no man has ever kissed you before."

"Okay." Mumbled Phyliss through Bob's hand.

He leaned in to kiss her, pressing his soft man lips against her soft woman lips, smooshing against them twisting his head around like the soap opera stars do before slipping his tongue into her mouth. Phyliss could feel a sensation like a tornado spawning in her belly, or was it Bob's tongue? Which ever it was, it was wonderful.

Bob, in the throes of his lip-lock, couldn't believe how forward he was in his pursuit of Phyliss. It wasn't like him at all, perhaps it was the wine or the food or the fact that she was built like an expansion bridge but with more sway. Bob felt more alive than he had in years and it was all because of Phyliss's pussy.

"Oh Bob, my pussy's on fire. Do something quick, only you can put it out."

"Yes Phil, I can feel it too, the heat rising up my legs."

"No Bob, I mean, my pussy is really on fire!"

The smell of burning hair caught his attention and he looked down to see her Persian cat smoldering from one of the candles that had fallen off the table and landed next to her pussy's tail. Thinking fast he grabbed at the first bit of material he could and ripped Phyliss's blouse off her body to wrap around her pussy. Not only was he able to smother the flames but also it would save him time later not having to undo all of those buttons. He told Phyliss to fill the sink and he plunged her pussy into the water. Bob knew that most pussies love only a tongue bath but he knew that a wet pussy was better than no pussy. The smoke had started to clear when he took the towel Phyliss handed him and started to dry off her pussy. He was just about to hand her pussy back to her when he stopped and saw Phyliss standing near the counter in just her bra.

"My God Phil, I've never seen melons as big as yours."

"Oh those, I've had them for a while now, I'm surprised you didn't notice sooner."

"No I didn't, may I touch them?"

"Please do Bob."

Bob walked over to Phyliss and reached out picking up the two rather large cantaloupes that sat next to her on the countertop. Pushing them together he cupped them in his hands while his thumbs ran along their outer flesh making little circles over the stem scar. He then leaned in putting his nose between the two melons and inhaled deeply. Fresh fruits were his passion and he had hoped one day to have his own orchard or at least a small garden.

"Sorry Phil, I have a thing for huge melons, fruits both citrus and otherwise are my passion."

Phyliss, suddenly feeling very brave, reached behind and undid the clasp on her bra, letting it drop to the floor. "Yeah, well, how do you like these apples?"

Bob's eyes almost fell out of his sockets like those novelty glasses where the eyeballs are attached to a spring and pop out and bounce up and down. He was suddenly glad he didn't have a huge freakish circus penis because the hard-on he suddenly got would have hit him in the face just as if he had stepped on a rake.