A New Position

Thanks to everyone who read, liked and/or followed part 1. 😊 This is part 2, so if you didn't read part 1 you might be a little lost.

Disclaimer:

This story is set in 1930's America and reflects cultural norms for that time/place. Some of the characters here act and speak in a manner that is sexist/racist. I promise they'll learn better by the end of the story. :) Also, a couple of the characters here are based on real people. Please don't sue me if I turned your great-great-grandma into a sex goddess. :P

Flagstaff, 1929

It was the crack of dawn, and Clyde spooned with his wife Elizabeth in their new bed. He enjoyed the comfortable sensation of her warm body nested against him. His mind wasn't quite awake yet, but his cock had already risen, and was rubbing pleasantly against her firm little fanny.

Clyde frowned in his semi-sleep, as an unwanted thought wiggled its way into his mind. Visions of a different backside swirled into his mind's eye, unbidden. It was a lush tush, round and brown and bent over for the taking. And it *was* being taken. A muscular sun-burnt savage pounded away from behind with a slap -- slap -- slap sound.

Instinctively, Clyde pushed the vision away from him, rejecting it for its wrongness. He reverted his focus to the bottom that was before him, giving it a re-assuring squeeze to make sure it was real. He tried to re-set his smile, but another mind-worm squirmed its way into his brain.

Clyde had unfinished business. The previous evening, Elizabeth had bid him to come hither, but he had already cum thither, and thus had not managed to claim her. His mind accounted for him a list of ready excuses for the failure: a long day of travel, and moving trunks, and arranging furniture, and fetching water, and a cooling bath, and a pair of hanging breasts with nearly-black nipples jiggling at each impact with a slap -- slap -- slap sound.

He pushed back at the intruding image again, harder this time, annoyed at himself. The solution was simple. He just needed to wake up and make whoopee with his wife. He willed the submarine of his sleeping consciousness to ascend towards the surface. He focused on his penis. The over-inflated organ would buoy him towards wakefulness.

Slap -- slap -- slap. The sound came at him again. He had thought he was moving away from the maddening dream noise, but it was louder now. As Clyde awakened, he realized with a start that the sound was real. Someone was pounding at his door.

Elizabeth awoke to the noise of knocking, and the sensation of her husband clambering awkwardly over her and out of the bed. She watched him stuff a hand down his pants, shoving an obvious erection down the leg of his pajamas. The curve of the angry tool was clearly visible against his leg. Where had *that* been last night? she wondered.

When he opened the door, Elizabeth saw that Tala stood on the stoop, waiting to be invited inside. But Clyde just glowered at the woman as if she were poisonous and failed to offer any invitation. The resulting staring contest escalated from awkwardness to full-blown embarrassment when Tala glanced down, and then quickly looked back up. Her eyes widened noticeably. His ears turned red. Tala felt as if she were interrupting an intimate moment. So did Elizabeth.

Tala took a deep breath and let it out, and then brushed past Clyde into the house.

"I'm sorry if I'm interrupting your..."

Tala paused, involuntarily glancing back down at Clyde's bulge as he turned around too fast. A tiny wet spot on the inner leg just above the knee marked the extent of his manhood.

"...sleep." she finished slowly. She licked her lips, and forced her eyes up to meet his, letting out another little breath as she re-focused on the business-at-hand.

"Slipher is waiting for you. He's at the observatory."

"At dawn?" Elizabeth said. The alarm clock on the nightstand showed a quarter past five in the morning.

"The astronomers work at night," Tala said. "when it's dark," With one hand she pointed straight up, indicating the sky that was no longer black.

Elizabeth felt silly. Of course they work at night! she reflected.

"This is about the time he usually goes to bed. He's determined to wait for you, but... the longer he waits, the more annoyed he's going to be."

Clyde digested this information with shame. Tala had come here looking out for his best interests, and he had treated her impolitely.

"Thank you, Tala," Clyde said. He tried to convey an unspoken apology with his eyes. "I'll hustle up there and meet him."

Tala waited outside for less than five minutes, when Clyde came bursting out of his cabin, gave her a little nod, and headed down the hill at something that was closer to a jog than a walk.

"Elizabeth?"

"Come in!" Elizabeth said. She liked the way her name sounded when the foreign woman said it. The vowels were all harder sounds, and she enunciated the second syllable extra precisely. She had never thought her name could sound exotic, but it did when Tala said it.

"I just wanted..." Tala found Elizabeth standing at the dresser wearing nothing more than her panties and brassiere, brushing her hair out. "I wanted to say I'm sorry if I interrupted something," she finished. "Mea culpa."

"I don't think you did," Elizabeth said with a heavy sigh. She turned and gave Tala a sad, meaningful look.

"Are you sure?" Tala blurted out before she could stop herself. "Because... well... I didn't *mean* to notice, but... mmmm... I thought maybe the circus had come to town."

Elizabeth gave her a confused look.

"Somebody had pitched an *enormous* tent." Tala popped her eyes at Elizabeth. There was a pause.

Elizabeth burst out in quiet, tinkling laughter -- a winsome sound. She felt she hadn't laughed in weeks. She laughed and she laughed until tears rolled down her face. The dam burst, and all the feelings she had been pushing down came flooding forth. Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, put her head in her hands, and cried.

Tala plopped herself down on the bed beside her, and wrapped an arm around her, and guided Elizabeth's head to her shoulder. Tears flowed down the right side of Tala's blouse, turning the white material transparent. She whispered re-assuring words to her, some in English, others in another tongue that Elizabeth couldn't understand.

When the crying finished, Elizabeth felt relieved, but also embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said. "I've never..."

"Elizabeth." Tala's tone was stern. Blue eyes met brown. "It's okay. We all get like that sometimes. You shouldn't hold it all inside for so long. You've got to let it out sometimes."

"Okay..." she said, in barely a whisper, staring into the dark eyes that were just inches away.

"One thing." Tala pulled back from the closeness.

"Yes?"

"Clyde... does he hit you?"

"What? No!"

"Is he a good man?"

"Yeah," Elizabeth offered weakly. In truth, she had been upset with Clyde lately. She wondered where this was going.

"Does he take care of you?"

"Yes. He's always supported us."

"But does he take *care* of you?" Tala insisted.

Elizabeth was confused, and her face showed it. Tala rolled her eyes and let out a rapid-fire string of words in her heathen tongue. Elizabeth didn't understand any of them, but she had the distinct impression that they were swear words.

"I am going to make sure that you get taken care of," Tala said, and she said it with such finality that Elizabeth couldn't help but believe her. "And I am going to have a talk with that husband of yours."

Clyde had the misfortune of arriving back at his cabin at that moment.

His first thought was that it was strange that Tala was sitting on his bed, hugging his undressed wife. That was inappropriate. His second thought was that Tala's right breast was completely exposed. Technically she was clothed, but the breast was completely visible through the wet fabric. He stared at it, and it stared back at him like a big brown eye. Very inappropriate. His third thought was that she looked... angry?

"You!" Tala said. It came out as an accusation. "You are not taking care of Elizabeth. Your poor wife just spent the last 30 minutes crying!"

Clyde looked at Elizabeth, and saw her red, puffy eyes. She gave him a weak smile and looked away. He moved towards her, but Tala moved in front of him like a guard dog.

"Can't you see she is distraught? You have changed her whole life. She is at the point of hysteria, and you are not giving her the release of her emotions that a woman needs!"

Tala stared at Clyde, daring him to disagree.

Elizabeth thought she had a point, although she was mortified than a woman would talk to him that way. Clyde was now staring down Tala dangerously. Tala rolled her eyes at him and made a sound of disgust.

"She is suffering... from female hysteria. She needs to go to the doctor."

Clyde's outrage had been building up steam like a train, but it suddenly de-railed as he processed this information. He knew that women tended to get hysterical, but he wasn't sure that was an actual medical condition.

Tala stepped to one side, relinquishing her position as Elizabeth's protector. "I can get the doctor on the horn," she said matter-of-factly. "It's still early. If we get going, I can get you to town and back before tonight."

Clyde looked down at Elizabeth. She looked broken. Aside from the puffy eyes, her hair was askew, and she sat with her arms crossed over her stomach, half-naked and staring at the floor. She'd been staring at the floor a lot lately. Clyde made up his mind.

"Okay." He looked at Tala. "Call the doctor."

They took the car down Mars Hill to Santa Fe Avenue until it merged into Route 66. There was a right onto San Francisco Street, following Tala's garbled directions that "when you see the church, head the flivver the other direction." They headed past the Hotel Commercial and Bender's Café, and arrived at the doctor's office, which was near the campus of the Teacher's College.

Clyde drove in mostly stoic silence, only occasionally muttering under his breath about a "trip for biscuits."

Elizabeth rode in the back seat with Tala, who came along for the purpose of showing them where the doctor's office was, and to make introductions. When they arrived, the doctor was waiting for them at the office.

The doctor was a powerfully built man, with broad shoulders and muscles on his muscles. His head was shaved clean, and he had a wide black mustache that was waxed to perfection, curling up at the ends. Clyde thought he must spend a great deal of time on his appearance. He reminded him of the strongman in the circus he'd seen as a boy.

"Hi Doc," Tala said. "May I present Mr. and Mrs. Clyde Tombaugh."

"Dr. Rudolph Raymond, U.S. Medical Corps," the doctor said, extending a hand. "Call me Doc."

The doctor's hand engulfed Clyde's. To say it was a firm handshake would have been an understatement. Clyde made eye contact the way a man should, but he was left wringing out his hand afterwards, watching as the doctor took Elizabeth's hand as gently as can be. He bent and bestowed a dainty kiss on the back of it.

"This way," he beckoned with a well-rehearsed smile.

Elizabeth began to feel a bit of nerves as she entered the back room. There were two chairs there, and a fancy adjustable table with all kinds of shiny metal extensions with joints that jutted outwards and downwards like a spider's legs. She tried to work out what all the things did with some consternation. A cabinet had a sink and several glass jars perched on top, filled with liquids in lurid shades of blue and green.

"My dear," the doctor addressed Elizabeth, pulling her from her reverie. "There's a gown on the table. Please remove your clothes and put on the gown. I'll give you some privacy." He headed towards the door, and then paused. "Take off everything, ok? Even the underclothes... if you're wearing a corset, that needs to come off." And he shut the door behind himself without waiting for an answer.

Elizabeth was keenly aware of two sets of eyes watching her. It felt awkward to be the center of attention as she disrobed, but she didn't offer any protest other than a few little huffs. Once she was down to her skivvies, she put on the robe. She turned to face Clyde, as the robe was fully open at the back.

"Would you mind..?"

"Yeah. Let me help," said Tala, circling behind Elizabeth. She began unfastening her corset and brassiere. Last of all, Elizabeth slipped off her panties in relative modesty, and sat herself down on the edge of the Frankenstein's table. A light breeze seemed to tickle its way across her skin in strange places. She didn't have to wait long before the doctor came a-knocking.

"Come in!" Clyde answered for her.

The doctor peeked his mustachioed face into the room first. Apparently satisfied with the state of things, he entered and closed the door behind him.

"Now then, I understand you're here today about a case of female hysteria." He glanced at Tala, who nodded. "First I'd like to do a routine check-up." He looked to Clyde. "Are you okay with that?" Clyde gave his assent. Elizabeth sat there feeling like a lab rat as everyone made decisions for her, except herself.

The doctor proceeded to do normal doctor things. He shone a light into her ears, and then her eyes, and made notes on a piece of paper. He stuck a tongue depressor down her throat until she gagged at it and pronounced that "good." He put an enormous inflatable cuff around her arm and pumped at it until it cut into her arm uncomfortably, and then listened to her arm with his stethoscope for a long while as the air slowly ran out.

"All right. Everything seems good," Doc said to nobody-in-particular. He stooped to Elizabeth and looked her in the eye. He had brown eyes under heavy black eyebrows. "You're a healthy young lady! Have you ever been treated for female hysteria before?"

"No." Elizabeth looked away from Doc's gaze and wondered if there was something really wrong with herself.

"Oh," he said, and he straightened, turning to Clyde. "I guess I'd better explain. You've probably noticed that women become hysterical faster than men."

Clyde nodded. This was common knowledge.

"Not that men can't become hysterical..." Doc glanced at Tala. "...but women's emotions are far more excitable. The medical reason for this is that women build-up excess fluids in their bodies faster than men do." He turned to Elizabeth. "You've had a good cry?"

Apparently, everyone knew about that, Elizabeth thought.

"That's good! You felt better afterwards," he said, not waiting for her confirmation, "because you released some of those excess fluids."

Clyde followed the logic. It made sense to him. Women tended to be softer than men.

"But tears aren't the only fluids that build up," Doc continued. "The tissues around the genitals also create extra moisture. I'm sure you've noticed it when you were... being intimate... with Elizabeth." Doc glanced from Clyde to Elizabeth.

Clyde was nodding, but his ears had reddened again.

Elizabeth was staring off to the left, her eyes wide. She crossed and un-crossed her legs, and then crossed them again. The combination of being naked and talking about sex was triggering some strange sensations.

"To determine if Elizabeth has female hysteria, I will need to examine her genitals. As her husband, you will stay here in the room and watch everything I do. Do I have your consent?"

The thought of this was exciting to Clyde. Elizabeth never let him see her up-close-and-personal like that. She was a lights-off woman; modest to a fault. He decided he would very much like to see his wife's pussy examined.

Clyde gave consent.

Elizabeth gave him a look.

Clyde decided the look didn't mean "no" such much as it was "oh my God!"

"We need to know," Clyde adjured his wife, responding to her unspoken objection. She seemed to accept this.

Doc swept into motion. He produced a short round stool, seemingly from nowhere, and pulled it in front of Elizabeth.

"All right, my dear..." Doc grasped Elizabeth by the upper arms and gave a gentle squeeze. "I need to you to scoot your bottom up on the table a little further." He lifted her and scooched her back as if she were weightless. "There!" he said, examining his handiwork. "Good."

One half of the table elevated so that Elizabeth was reclined rather than sitting. Doc began to pull metal attachments from under the table, tightening knobs to hold them in place. There were two arms that slid into place, and two stirrups to support her legs. Elizabeth thought they were splayed out much too far.

"All right, Elizabeth," said Doc, pushing her legs open and stepping between them. He looked her in the eye and gave her a kindly smile. "I know it's embarrassing. But it will be okay." He grasped her by the upper arms again and gave a re-assuring squeeze. Then he pulled the sleeves of the gown forward off her shoulders, and the whole gown came away.

Elizabeth was exposed for all the world to see. She crossed her arms quickly across her breasts. Clyde was staring at her. Tala was looking too. Doc effortlessly hoisted one of her legs up and put it in the stirrup, buckling a leather strap around her ankle.

"So I don't get kicked." Doc crinkled his eyes at her by way of apology.

Elizabeth decided she liked Doc. There was something about him that was reassuring. Was it his strength or his gentleness? Perhaps it was the combination of the two. She co-operated as he tied her other foot up, her most private bits now on full display.

"Clyde, come over to this side. Tala, at her head."

Clyde moved to the station he was given at the left of the table. He stared at his wife's snatch. A pair of puffy pink lips glistened through a forest of dark, neatly trimmed hair. At the top, a pink bump protruded out further than the rest. He had the sudden urge to smell the scent of her.

"Elizabeth," Doc gently commanded. "Move your arms down to the armrests. Show us your bosoms."

Elizabeth blushed furiously. She could feel the heat in her face and neck and upper chest, but she obeyed the order. Exposed in the cool air, her nipples stood at attention.

"See here, Clyde," Doc said. "The nipples are inflamed." Doc reached up and cupped her right breast, changing his grip on it several times, before rolling the nipple out between his thumb and forefinger.

Clyde took this as his queue, and seized her left breast in the same way, feeling her up.

Elizabeth couldn't help but compare them. Clyde's hands were long, thin and rough. He could grasp her whole breast in a handful. The doctor's were shorter but wide, meaty and muscular. Elizabeth thought he must have the fattest thumbs she'd ever seen. She felt a twinge of disappointment as he released his grip and sat down on his stool.

"Now, her quim." Doc paused. "Sorry, it's a word I picked up during the war from some of the Limeys."

Clyde diverted his attention to his wife's lower charms.

"The clitoris is also aroused." Doc put one prodigious thumb just above the little bud and slid it upwards an inch.

Elizabeth sucked in a breath as the hood slid back and her pleasure button popped out into the open.

"Sensitive, isn't it?" said Doc. He looked her straight in the eye, and gently pinched it a couple times.

Her hips bucked involuntarily, but she didn't break eye contact.

"You can see that she's already created some extra moisture," Doc said to Clyde. "Go ahead and get your head down there close, you can see it."

Having been given permission to do just exactly what he wanted anyway, Clyde complied. He got his face down close to her pussy and inhaled. He could smell the slight tang of her pussy. How would it taste?

Elizabeth could feel his breath on her pussy as he let out a deep breath. She shivered.