Facets of Love

All characters participating in or observing sexual activity are at least eighteen years old. The author is well over the age of consent.

***

Facets of Love

Chapter 5

-

Dr. Martha Weaver Spencer

November 2018

My life was finally regaining a sense of normalcy. It was obviously a new normal. Not the completely satisfying life I enjoyed when Frank was still alive. But I was no longer living a life of despair.

Going back to work, seeing new clients, curing other people's sexual disfunction played a large role in my recovery. Realizing what I had lost motivated me to work even harder on perfecting my skill set. In essence, I decided to use the same techniques I was using with my daughter and son-in-law to help my paying clients strengthen their marriages. Except, in the clients' cases, I was able to work with them together.

Let's use Peter and Olive as an example.

They were a young, newlywed couple who came to me with an issue I'd encountered several times before. Peter had a large penis. Ninety fifth percentile in both length and girth. Olive's vagina, on the other hand, tended towards the small end of the scale. They emotionally adored each other but waited until their wedding night for their first physical union. They're rarer than albino deer, but such people still exist. After numerous attempts that night and for weeks thereafter, they were physically unable to consummate their love for each other.

To put it bluntly, he had a cock which rivaled that of a thoroughbred racehorse, and she could barely get my three-inch pinky finger in her vagina without experiencing extreme pain.

Yes, I stuck my finger up her snatch. But not before we got her loosened up with a bit of old-fashioned foreplay. That's what I meant about perfecting my skill set.

Prior to Frank's death, Peter, Olive, and I would have spent endless sessions in my office, searching for a solution to their problem with our clothes on. I'd suggest something, they'd go back home to try it out, return the next week to inform me it didn't work, and ask for a different technique.

My new plan was a more proactive approach. With my office door locked, we all removed our clothes, Olive laid on my newly installed, king-sized bed, and I taught Peter how to properly prepare a woman for sex. Yes, Olive was an extremely small woman who was not easily aroused but, after I led Peter on a thorough exploration of his wife's body, we found the right buttons to push, to get her vaginal juices flowing.

That's when I stuck my pinky finger up her twat. Not to pleasure her, just to see what I was working with.

We spent the rest of the session gently inserting increasingly larger phallic shaped objects into what had to be the tightest pussy in the southeast US until we finally stretched it out to accommodate Peter's equally oversized digit. The session ended when Peter pinky fucked his wife to what apparently was her first ever orgasm.

I gave Olive a quick and dirty tutorial on how to lube up her man's gigantic cock and stroke it with both hands while her tiny mouth sucked on his Darth Vader helmet.

"Swallow as much as you can," I told her. "And let the rest run down your chest."

"Today was the best we've ever had," Olive told me after the deed was done. "But will we ever be able to have sex like normal people? Will I be able to get pregnant without using a turkey baster?"

"Do this every night, and maybe twice on Sunday. Come back next week and we'll take the next step. If you stick with my program and do your homework, your sex life will be far superior to that of normal people. And yes, it will take a few months, but eventually you won't need a kitchen appliance to make a baby."

Peter and Mary cleaned the cum off each other while I ran their credit card for $250. Once properly clothed, I unlocked my office door and enjoyed a cup of tea while waiting for my next clients.

Did my unusual treatment step over an ethical boundary? Possibly.

Would Peter and Olive stay married if they didn't come to me? Definitely not.

Since my slightly more aggressive form of sexual therapy was working so well for my own flesh and blood, it would be considered medical malpractice to not give the same advantages to my clients.

-

Robert Ryan Jones

December 2018

During the week leading up to my December trip to Oklas, the Texas/Oklahoma weather forecast warned of a possible severe winter storm coming through the Monday I was supposed to fly into Dallas. Being an Alabama boy who had no experience driving on ice or snow, I did the conservative thing and took a Sunday afternoon flight to Dallas and got into Oklas late Sunday night. It was a smart move. The predicted storm hit us around noon on Monday and, by 2:00 pm, the roads were slicker than oyster shit.

We closed our cardboard box factory at noon, sending the workers home before things got any worse.

I took advantage of the down time and did some preventive maintenance on the machines, which got me back to Manny's around 4:00 pm. What normally was a ten-minute drive took me half an hour as I crept along the half snow, half ice covered pavement at barely 15 mph.

"We've got a serious problem," Manny said as soon as I walked into the bar.

"Don't tell me you're out of beer," I joked.

"Nope, Doc May ran off the road and is stuck in a ditch."

"Where?"

"Not far, maybe a mile south of the Red River bridge."

"You want me to watch the bar while you go fetch her?" I asked.

"You got a bartending license?"

"You expect to get inspected in this storm?"

"You're under thirty, I'm over... well I ain't saying exactly how old I am, but rescuing maidens in distress is a young man's job."

"If you remember, I rescued her last time I was here. From Junior Booker."

"Then you're the perfect man for the job. You've got experience."

"Can I borrow your truck?"

"Rather you didn't. I've seen you country boys drive on ice and don't relish my truck ending up in the river."

Wearing my work boots, the warmest clothes I brought, and Manny's old duster coat, I crept out of town in my inadequate rental heading south. Luckily, I was the only fool on the road, so when I bounced against the bridge's guard rail every hundred feet or so, I wasn't a hazard to anybody else. Driving slower than a geriatric sloth, I continued south until I saw a car stuck in a culvert a hundred feet off the wrong side of the road. Because of the blowing snow and reduced visibility, I couldn't see if the car was occupied and certainly didn't relish climbing down to find out.

I cracked my window open and called out, "May, is that you?"

No answer.

"May, if that's you, flash your lights or honk your horn."

Still no answer but my phone chirped with an incoming call from Manny.

"Doc May says she hears and sees something but doesn't know who it is."

"This is stupid. Give her my phone number so she can call me."

Manny hung up and then called me back a couple of minutes later.

"Doc May won't let me give you her phone number but says you should honk your horn three times if it's you."

"She's got to be the most frustrating woman on the face of the earth," I said and honked three times.

"She heard you, so what you see must be her."

"Tell her to turn on her flashers and honk her horn every ten or fifteen seconds. I can barely see my nose out here and sure as hell don't want to get lost crossing the highway."

May's car was still running when I finally got to her. It wasn't going to go anywhere until the storm moved on and we could get a tow truck out there, but the heater was working so I didn't find a human popsicle in the driver's seat. The outside temp was hovering around fifteen degrees and going in the wrong direction. It was only a hundred yards or so from her car to mine but the hike damn near killed her. Her blue jeans, tennis shoes, flannel shirt, and light jacket weren't doing a very good job of keeping her warm, so I draped Manny's duster over her shoulders as we stumbled over the ice and through the blowing sleet and snow.

It took me three trips to get May and all her crap out of her rental and into mine. The drive back to Oklas put a few more dents in my car but I managed to stay on the road and breathed a heavy sigh of relief when we pulled up to Manny's.

"Thank you," May said.

"Not a problem. Go on inside and warm up. I'll bring in your bags."

"Don't do that. You've already done enough, too much actually."

"I don't mind."

"Yeah, but I do," she said. "I don't need a big strong man to protect me. I can take care of myself."

"You have got to be the most stubborn person I've ever met. I've got boots, gloves, and a proper jacket. You're dressed for a fall day in the park. You slip on that ice carrying a bag and Oklas doesn't have a doctor for a week. Now get your ass inside and put something warm in your belly. If you want, I'll pretend to be the bell hop and you can tip me a quarter a bag."

She wasn't happy about it, muttering something about "chauvinistic pigs" as she stepped out of the car, but she acquiesced. I didn't want her to get hurt, but if she fell on her butt a couple of times without doing any damage, it would have made my day.

I took my time carrying her stuff inside. Some of it was medical equipment which I didn't want to damage but, more importantly, I sure the hell didn't want to get hurt and watch her gloat while she splinted my broken leg. Fifteen minutes later, I carried the last bag into the lobby and walked directly into the middle of a heated argument.

"How can you not have a room for me," May was saying to Manny. "The clinic has a standing reservation."

"I know. You get room 10 Monday through Friday for the next twelve months. But I'm allowed to rent it out on weekends."

"Look at your phone. Today's Monday. Room 10 is mine."

"Normally it would be, but these folks rented it Saturday and Sunday night," Manny said referring to a thirtyish couple and two young kids standing in the corner. "They were supposed to check out today, but the roads are closed, and they've got nowhere else to stay."

"Just put them in another room," May said.

"Can't. I'm all full up."

"So, where the hell do you expect me to sleep?"

"She can sleep in my room," I volunteered.

"In your dreams," May said.

Or nightmares

, I thought.

"As much as you secretly want me to, I won't be joining you," I said. "I'll set up a cot in Manny's poor excuse for a gym."

"Are you sure?" Manny asked. "The last time an ice storm came through here, the power was out for three days. There's a fireplace in your room. Don't need one in my high-class exercise area."

"I'll take my chances in the gym. Less chance of getting frost-bit in there than sleeping with the doc."

"I heard that," May said.

She never said "yes" to sleeping in my room. Probably because that would require her to thank me again. But she helped me carry her bags up to what used to be my room and watched as I packed up my dop kit and some warm clothes for my night in the gym. She also didn't join me for dinner that night, even though we had eaten together a few times during my previous trip to Oklas. My comment about her secretly wanting to sleep with me probably had something to do with that.

Doctor May was a complicated woman. Unlike most people, I never knew where I stood with her. While usually aloof and argumentative, she occasionally showed spurts of humanity and, when she let her shield down, could be considered an enjoyable companion, a witty conversationalist and, if you looked past her flannel shirts and librarian hairdo, she might be considered easy on the eye. One thing was for sure. She was full of surprises.

After dinner, I retired to the gym and settled into my cot, thinking I'd read for a while before turning out the lights. The power grid finally succumbed to the ice storm around nine and, since Manny's emergency generator hadn't worked since a Bush lived in the White House, I rolled over and tried to sleep.

"There's something wrong with the fireplace in your room." It was May's voice but all I could see was the outline of a figure in the doorway illuminated by the emergency light at the far end of the hallway.

"Oh. So now it's 'my' room? I suggest you throw another blanket over that comfortable bed and tough it out."

"It's not me I'm worried about. Some of the medicine I brought with me loses its effectiveness if it freezes."

"What do you want me to do? Sleep with your medicine?"

"Not a bad idea, although I doubt my patients want to take a drug that's been that close to your body. I was hoping you might help me get a fire going."

It was too early to sleep anyway, so I pulled on my shoes and followed May up the stairs and into the room that used to be mine. Room 12 wasn't your standard hotel room. It was a two-room suite with a bedroom and a sitting room. The fireplace was in the sitting room.

Using May's phone as a light source, I inspected the fireplace and quickly discovered the problem. May had never lit a fire before. Or at least not a woodfire.

There was a single log on the grate with no kindling, fire starter, or paper underneath. Several burned matches lay below the log, telling me that she'd tried to start a fire by putting a match to a log. It was a good thing it didn't work because the chimney flue was shut. If she had miraculously lit the log with a single match, the resulting smoke would have filled the room and set off the fire alarms.

As tempted as I was to give May a tutorial on how to build and light a fire, I took the high road and did it myself. With the help of some fat wood, kindling, and ancient newspapers, I soon had a decent fire going. May didn't say anything while I built the fire, but she watched me like a hawk. Hopefully she learned something.

"Move your medicine close to the fire and it shouldn't freeze," I told her. "But it's still going to get damn cold in here. And you'll need to throw on another log every hour or so to keep it going. Sleep well."

"How cold?" she asked before I could escape.

"Can't say for sure. It's like ten below outside and this place doesn't have a shitload of insulation, but you do have a fire next door... with a little bit of luck, the temperature in the bedroom will stay above twenty."

"How cold will it be in the gym where you're sleeping?"

"A good bit colder."

May furrowed her brow in concentration for just a few seconds, like she was solving a complicated math problem in her head.

"If I let you sleep in the sitting room, would you keep the fire going for me?"

"Sure. If that's what you want."

"It's not a matter of what I want. All I care about is keeping the medicine viable."

I went back downstairs, got my pillow, sheets, and blanket, and, leaving the cot in the gym, went back to room 12 and made myself a bed on the floor by the fireplace. By the time I got back, May was in the bedroom with the door closed (and most likely locked, even though I didn't check).

I was right. Despite the fire, it was cold in the sitting room. Damn cold. So cold, I woke up nearly every hour shivering as I threw another log on the fire. I couldn't imagine how cold it was in the rooms without a fireplace.

Sometime during what was probably my only REM sleep of the night May woke me by kicking my leg.

"Do not, in anyway, take what I'm about to say as anything but a medical directive," she said.

"Huh?"

"I want you to strip down to your underwear. Keep your socks on but take off everything else but your boxer shorts."

"Why?"

"So, you and I don't succumb to hypothermia."

"What?"

"I don't want us to freeze to death."

Without leaving my makeshift bed, I took off my sweatpants, T-shirt and sweatshirt and tossed them into a corner.

"Good. Now turn around to face the fire and don't look behind you," she said.

I complied, heard a rustling of clothing behind me, and saw a flurry of similar clothes join mine in the corner. After feeling several additional layers of bedding spread on top of me, I felt a warm body curl up behind mine. May's naked chest pressed up against my back. Her tummy tucked against my ass, her upper thighs curled under mine, and her sock covered feet nestled between my ankles.

She was right. By combining our body heat, we were nice and toasty under the mountain of blankets. That's how we spent the rest of the night.

Except, sometime between when she came out the bedroom and the sun lightened the room, we switched places. When I woke, instead of facing the fire, the dead ashes of what was once a blaze of flames were behind me. My chest now nestled against her back. Her butt pressed against my belly. We were still warm and toasty but, to my dismay, my arm draped under hers, my hand cupped one of her boobs, and, worst of all, my boxer-short-covered erection poked into the crease of her panty covered ass.

By her breathing, I could tell May was still sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her and not ready to leave the warmth of her body, I drifted back to sleep, fully expecting to be both verbally and physically assaulted when May regained consciousness.

It didn't happen. When I woke up the second time, I was alone on the floor. The fire had magically come back to life, and I could hear May in the bathroom.

"I thought you were going to keep the fire going," May said when she came out of the bathroom.

"Sorry about that. I didn't expect to sleep as well as I did. Thanks for resurrecting it."

"Do you want me to go into the bedroom while you get dressed?" she asked.

"No need," I said after making sure my morning wood had subsided. "You being a doctor, I'm fairly sure I don't have anything you've never seen before."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. I still get the occasional surprise. The bathroom's all yours. If I'm not here when you're done, I'll be downstairs trying to find some breakfast."

May gave me a quick glance when I got up but then busied herself checking on her precious medical supplies.

"We're in luck," she said as I pulled on my sweats. "Looks like the medicine survived the night. Which is a good thing because I might need it today. Any chance you can give me a ride to the clinic?"

"Not a problem. We won't be able to open the factory until the power comes back on. But how do you plan to see patients without power?"

"There's a backup generator behind the building. I've never used it before, but they say it's not too hard to start."

That's how I spent a good bit of the day. After a surprisingly good breakfast, cooked over a gas stove, I half drove, half ice-skated May to the clinic and spent an hour getting her generator online. Resurrecting Manny's ancient diesel-powered generator occupied my time until well after lunch. I made a cursory stop at the factory, just to confirm that the storm hadn't done any damage to the building, and then got back to town in time to pick May up from work.

One of the locals spread a salt/sand mixture on the town streets so it wasn't too hard to get around Oklas but the road leading to the interstate was still nothing more than a thirty-mile ice rink. Since the family that occupied May's hotel room couldn't leave town, she spent another night in my room.

Even though the heat was restored to the hotel, May and I still slept in the same room... in the bed this time instead of on the floor.

"Just in case the power goes out again."

Our second night sleeping together was only slightly different than our first. We made a slight change in sleeping attire, losing the socks but adding t-shirts. And, despite starting out on the far edges of our respective sides, we eventually ended up in each other's arms. Something I attributed to gravity and the concave shape of the mattress.