One of the requirements for successfully completing a medical degree is to do some outside of school "experimental research." The science we learn in the classroom can only go so far, they say, so the enlightened Chapman graduate needed to display some extra-curricular initiative. This naturally led me to the Heavy Lids Sleep Lab in Catonsville MD, where I was to shadow a one Dr. Gary Winfield, who told me he had a patient that was coming in around noon he thought demonstrated some "curious sleeping patterns."
As I was about to enter the clinic, I noticed a statuesque beauty of a woman walking behind me, a dame in her mid 40's with ample bust, carefully styled hair, and a figure-hugging white turtleneck. She was applying Pina Colata lip balm, but I had a sneaking suspicion she had Pina Colata on her breath from earlier in the day.
"Hold the door for me," the woman said, sensing correctly that I was in a rush.
"No problem, Ma'am," I said, deciding to stand outside and hold the door for her. "Are you a patient of Dr. Winfield's?"
"Well lately I've been an impatient of his," the woman said with a slight laugh as she entered the building, me following behind. "You see we've had trouble getting a thorough analysis of my condition because the doctor is a narcoleptic."
"A narcoleptic? Running a sleep clinic? Irony of ironies!" I exclaimed, noticing a Felix the Cat wall clock indicating it was 12:00 sharp. Though I could have walked to the back area, I decided to stand behind the woman as she filled out some paperwork. I spied over her shoulder as she wrote out her name: "Mrs. G-A-L-L-A-G-H-E-R"
"Smashing melons," I said softly over her shoulder, which startled her slightly.
"Ex-CUSE ME?" she shot back, looking violated but ever still perky.
"Ah...Gallagher...goofy haired guy....known for striking watermelons with a mallet- mess everywhere..."
"Oh," Mrs. Gallagher chuckled, realizing her goof. "I thought you were commenting on my large breasts."
"No, no," I quickly responded. "It was the name. But...now that you mention it..." I stopped myself before I really got into trouble, "Do you sleep here often?"
Mrs. Gallagher had a quizzical look on her face. "This is my 3rd visit. My husband would be jealous if he knew."
"Your husband doesn't know about your sleeping problems?" I asked.
"He's always asleep when I get back home. Our marriage bed hasn't seen action since the dial-up days of yore. Of course, there are a lot of things my husband doesn't know about."
That last comment started to turn the wheels in my loins. She looked so beautiful replying to my every remark, it's like she'd never been married at all. I led her into the back room where Dr. Winfield was waiting, holding a clipboard and a pillow.
"Ah, my patient and my apprentice- at high noon!" the slightly nutty Dr. Winfield exclaimed, fumbling to shake our hands, realizing his were full only after they weren't any longer. "Don't worry, I'll get those."
"Me and Mrs. Gallagher were just talking about how tired she is," I said for some unknown reason. I mean, really, why would they do this study in the middle of the afternoon?
"That's good- means I don't have to plug in the sleep gas machine," the doc replied, opening a door to the sleep lab where Mrs. Gallagher was to stay. "Now, Mrs. Gallagher, please strip down to your bra and panties so you can be at a maximum comfort level."
"Yes sir," Mrs. Gallagher replied as she began to lift her turtleneck over her head to reveal a C-Cup size rack of smashing melons, supported by a soft white bra. I began to feel tension in my pants as my eyes glazed up and down this sweet fertile creature, who then slowly removed her tight fitting jeans to reveal a white thong.
"Oh my," Mrs. Gallagher said, haphazardly concealing her behind. "I forgot I was in the tanning bed this morning."
The doctor pulled her hands to her side. "Relax Mrs. G, we are all professionals here. If you sleep on your back, we won't get distracted."
"That's the thing, doc," she said. "I like to sleep on my side, and I can't be facing a two-sided mirror because that'd make it harder for me to stay asleep. Plus, I don't like blankets."
"Mrs. Gallagher, if I may," I interjected, hoping to get the show on the road. "Our interests in the life sciences don't commingle with our passions for the flesh."
"Oh, it's alright. Just a little embarrassing that's all," she replied.
"Well, you have nothing to be ashamed of," the doctor replied, giving her a hard look up and down her body. "Just lie down on the bed, we'll darken the lights and begin our note taking once you are fast asleep."
The doc and I went to an adjacent room where there was a blue couch facing a two-sided mirror through which we could see Mrs. Gallagher lying down. The doctor hit a switch on the wall to dim the lights in her sleep chamber, though Mrs. G's body was still quite visible...and stunning.
"I hope you get a lot out of this study, kid," Dr. Winslow said to me as he sat on the couch. I began to rummage through my backpack to look for a spiral-bound notebook in which I had a list of bullet pointed questions I was going to ask. After I found my notebook, and looked up from my bag, I could see Dr Winfield's pants bundled at his feet as he began to masturbate fervently.
"Dr. Winfield!" I exclaimed, horrified by what I was seeing, but not so much that I wanted to leave the room, for I knew there was some grade-A country fair meat across the mirror.
"Shit, kid," the doctor said, spitting on his rod to provide some bodily lubricant. "They're like sitting ducks, these women. That reminds me- much of my research in college was on the mating rituals of the Cape Lockheed Mallard. Oh fuck yea!"
Mrs. Gallagher began to massage her ass unassumingly, which enhanced the blood flow to my tenure-track member in my pocket. The doctor began making quacking noises.
"One for the goose, one for the gander, one for the goose, one for the gander!" The doctor said in an aroused tone. "Don't throw em bread crumbs, my boy, that'll only make them peck at the gravel! Oh, the warmth!"
Disturbingly, I began to see cum gushing out of the old man's cock, spraying his black leather shoes. Looking back at Mrs. Gallagher I could see the magnetic pull that claimed my elder student of medicine, who just then appeared to slip into a narcoleptic spell, his hands relaxing to his sides while his dick slowly craned downward.
"Dr. Winfield?" I said, not wanting to approach the sticky man. "Are you awake?"
No reply.
"I ought to let Mrs. Gallagher know," I thought to myself as I headed for the door to enter her sleep chamber. Walking to her front side, I could see her slender hand crammed down her panties, massaging her moist pussy with a deliberate pace. I started to clear my throat, hoping she'd wake up by the noise. No dice. I moved in closer and tried clearing my throat again, but she was out like a lamp.
"Interesting," I said aloud, and still, she lay there, oblivious to my presence. Her mouth formed an oval, as it appeared she was having an erotic dream of some sort. After checking to see that I locked the door behind me, I began to drop my pants to let my cock breath the sterile air of the sleep chamber. Fully stiff, I began to gently stroke it, looking around the room for a chair. Just then, I saw a pair of hazel eyes gaze upon me.
