The Good Wife

Don't let anyone tell you that doctors don't make house calls. This is the age of the internet. You can use the internet to summon anyone you want to your door.

I'm a doctor. I have reasonably new qualifications and I don't yet have a current practice. What I do have is a job with Doctors Online. We're a Locum service, filling in for doctors who need a break or who don't want to make house calls. We do the house calls for them.

It stands to reason that you can't always get to a doctor during his surgery hours. Being sick isn't something you schedule. Being sick and needing a doctor right now happens to us all, and quite often right now does not mean after a five hour wait in the local emergency department, if you're lucky. These days it means us - Doctors online.

After hours calls are transferred to our business and then they arrange for the nearest available locum to attend. Now you might think that this sort of system would be abused by some people, but it's not. Not after they receive our bill, it's not. We charge a premium for our services.

On the plus side for me is that I have a steady income, I don't have all the overheads of having to run a surgery, and I have steady work, getting more experience all the time. Mind you, you meet some odd types out there.

I received a call one day to visit a house where the wife insisted that her husband was too sick to get out of bed. I trotted around and she was at the front door, waiting for me.

It was a case of holy hell, what have I walked into? The wife was about twenty, long blonde hair, blue eyes, well-endowed in the breast department, a very shapely figure, and legs that just wouldn't quit. I could see quite a bit of those breasts, that figure, and those legs.

What she didn't have was a surfeit of clothes. She was wearing a very filmy peignoir over what appeared to be an even flimsier nightie. Let's just say that the cleavage and split in the sides of her outfit were remarkable. Almost as remarkable as the fact that she could move about without the whole thing falling off.

With admirable self-control I enquired after my patient and she escorted me through the house to the main bedroom where my patient waited. Out cold. Sleeping, I was able to determine, not unconscious. He did wake up a little and was able to describe his symptoms. I sympathised with him, gave him a prescription which was basically a pain killer, and told him to stay in bed and sleep as much as possible. A great cure-all is a decent sleep.

"He has the flu," I told his wife.

"I'm Matilda. Call me Mattie. The flu? Is that all?"

She seemed to be quite cheered up by the fact that he only had the flu.

"No, it's not a case of just the flu, which is generally meant to mean that someone has a nasty cold. He has Influenza. Type A, would be my guess. I don't think it will kill him but he's going to be very sick for the next week to ten days. He's to stay in bed for at least the next week. I will provide a doctors certificate excusing him from work if he requires it. I'll also return in a couple of days to check up on him."

"Oh, I don't think he'll be happy having to pay for two visits," she protested. "Can't he go and see his normal doctor after a couple of days?"

"No. Complete bed rest means complete bed rest. Don't worry about being charged for a second visit. Our charges cover the cost of a follow-up visit if it's required so you won't be paying anything extra."

"OK. I assume that there's nothing to stop him, ah, stop him from, um, I can still share the bed with him?"

"I'd strongly advise against it as I'm sure you don't really want to catch the flu. In fact, I'd recommend a face mask when you attend to him. This will help prevent you getting it. If you were asking about him having marital relations with you then the answer is a definite no. He's in no state for that sort of thing and won't be for a week at the very least."

"A week?" she asked, sounding aghast.

"At least," I said, hard-hearted bastard that I am.

"B-but what about me?" she asked, looking most upset.

"Excuse me?" I wasn't quite sure what her problem was.

"What am I supposed to do for the next week? Barry insists that I have to have sex at least every couple of days. He says if I don't I'll lose my looks. My skin will go all wrinkly and grey. I promised him I would and now you say I'm not allowed to."

"What makes you think you'll go all grey and wrinkly if you don't have sex?" I asked.

"Hormones, of course," she snapped. "You're a doctor. You should know all about that sort of thing. Barry explained it all to me after we got married. Isn't there something you can give him to pep him up a bit? That Viagra stuff I've heard about, for instance."

"Yes, I could," I agreed, "but the exercise would probably kill him. It is only for a week or so, you know."

"But it's already been two days." She started chewing on her thumb, looking distressed. "Who know how wrinkly I'll be by then. I'll never get rid of wrinkles once they start. You've got to do something."

OK, so I was a doctor and I should have been all soothing and calming but really? She wasn't my patient and she was an idiot. So maybe I was a little sarcastic when I spoke to her.

"Well, there's no medicine I can give you for missing out on sex," I told her, "unless you want me to have sex with you as a medical necessity."

She seemed to straighten up, standing tall as she turned to face me more fully. She opened her mouth and I waited for her reply.

"That's brilliant," she said. "I hadn't thought of that but that will work, won't it."

I was like, what?, thinking I'd been slapped with a wet fish. There was no way known she meant that the way it sounded.

Then she seemed to slump down a little.

"Oh, we can't," she said. "Barry's in the bed and it would be rude for us to disturb him. We've got a bed in the spare room but I haven't made it yet."

OK, so that wet fish came back and slapped me again. I mean, just how intelligent was this woman? She talked normally and seemed to act normally and her house was in excellent condition. She had to be reasonably intelligent, no? Maybe it was just on the subject of sex that she was totally insane.

"Ah, Mattie, you do realise that there is no requirement to be in a bed to have sex? There's nothing to stop you taking off your things and having it right here."

"Here?" she asked, sounding surprised. "With no bed?"

Then the rest of what I said caught up with her.

"Take of my clothes? But I'd be naked. You would see everything. And it's still daytime."

"Ah, aren't you usually naked when you have sex," I asked, "and what does it matter if it's still daytime?"

"Well, yes, I guess," she said, sounding a little unsure. "I guess daylight doesn't really matter either."

Lovely though she was I suspected that I'd probably be better off heading out the door. I'd give her a shock and while she was cringing from my crudity I'd depart with her happy to see me go.

"Well, Mattie," I said briskly, waving my hands at her peignoir, "if you care to dump the happy-time rags I'll give you a hearty fuck to keep you going."

"Oh, OK," she said, seemed to twitch slightly, and peignoir and nightie just dropped, pooling around her feet, leaving her clad in a beam of sunlight that was coming through the window.

She was sensational, all pink and white, white being the predominant colour apart from her rosebuds. She had stripped and was standing there with nary a blush, just an expectant look. Hippocrates be damned. She wasn't my patient and she was naked and she was so getting screwed.

I moved closer, my hands reaching for her breasts. They slipped over them and her skin was like silk, a warm and responsive silk. I hadn't even touched her nipples and they were responding to my hands on her breasts, pouting and standing out. I bent my head and lightly nipped each one.

I played with her breasts for a short while. Maybe played is the wrong word because I gave those beautiful globes some very serious attention and they certainly seemed to enjoy it. Her breathing was harder and her chest was heaving slightly, her swollen breasts bouncing slightly. I was reluctant to tear my hands away from them.

You have to understand that I was exhibiting amazing self-control. It was a source of some amazement to me that I hadn't just pushed her to the floor, lifted her legs high and wide, and started fucking her as if my life depended on it.

Now that my hands had managed to relinquish her breasts they just naturally sought something else to keep them occupied. They ran down to those long legs, stroking along her thighs before turning in and stroking up along her inner thighs until they met at the junction. I started massaging there.

She gave a low cry and started twisting about under my touch. Not trying to evade it, just very restless to have me touching her. I was rubbing and she was squirming and I was having fun. I slipped a couple of fingers up inside her and from her reaction I thought she was going to climax on the spot. The only catch was, she felt damp, but only slightly. I was starting to wonder how much of her reaction she was putting on.

Now she couldn't fake how her breasts and nipples reacted. Ditto for her pussy, and that was responding nicely. It was flushed and her pudenda was swollen but she wasn't all that excited I thought. Part of her reaction was pure make believe, aimed at making me think I was a sex god, which I knew damn well I wasn't.

Accordingly I ignored her suggestions that I should do it 'now, please, I need it', and continued stroking her, touching her up and heating her up.

She was finally developing a nice bit of lubrication when I touched a little close to her clitoris and she shrieked.

"What the fuck?" she half-screamed at me.

"Mm?" I said. "You felt that did you?" I touched there again and she reacted again.

I stood up, smiling, and started undoing my trousers. I stepped out of my trousers and my erection was well and truly on display. Her eyes went wide as she stared at me and it seemed to me that she was having second thoughts about the whole thing. Surprising really, as I wasn't what you'd call over-large.

"Smile," I said softly. "Anyone would think you hadn't seen an erection before."

She blushed somewhat and I recalled her comment about it not being dark. Maybe she hadn't actually seen one out in the light.

"Turn around and lean forward across the table," I said, indicating the table behind her.

She turned around slowly, leaning on the table, her head turned to try to see what I was doing. I moved closer and my hand closed over her mound again. I rubbed her a little, stretching her lips apart at the same time. Satisfied that she was physically ready, I eased my cock into position, held her hips, and started pressing into her.

She gasped and seemed to tense up so I paused, waiting for her to relax.

"Take it easy," I told her. "Just try to relax a little and let it happen. It's nothing new, you'll see."

She was breathing hard and slowly relaxed. As much as she could r4lax with a cock attacking her, I guess. When I was satisfied I pressed a bit harder, continuing my journey. It was a case of no rush, no fuss, just letting her stretch to take me. She was almost panting as I came in and I was almost expecting her to cry stop at any moment. Nearly there, I brought my hands up and closed them around her breasts, at the same time giving a quick little push to sink in that last inch or so. She gave another half-scream and seemed to be trembling slightly.

I have to admit I was a little surprised at her reactions but now we could start moving. I wondered how'd she react to that.

I didn't go into full overdrive, sex-wise, even though that was what I wanted to do. I pulled back quite slowly and slipped back in at the same speed.

"You are allowed to move with me, you know," I murmured softly as I pulled back for another stroke.

"I know that," she hissed, sounding a little angry, and I wondered if it was at me or herself?

Not that it mattered. This time when I drove back in she was pushing back against me, and pushing quite firmly, too. A few more strokes and we were moving like a well-oiled machine and it seemed to me that Mattie was actually purring. She was certainly making a low crooning noise deep in her throat and any inhibitions or doubts seem to have gone.

I kept it up for a while, teasing her breasts and pumping my hips, her responses coming naturally and willingly. Her purring started to get interrupted by little cries and she started telling me to apply myself. If I was going to do it, do it properly. Well, I didn't know what she was used to, but I did my best.

I stepped up the pace and she moved with me, gasping and swearing. She soon tired of the new pace, wanting even more. Well, I was willing to give it but I didn't know for how long. This woman was a lot of work. Worth it, mind you.

I started thrusting in harder than ever, really driving home. Her little cries and things were getting louder and then they cut out completely. She seemed to freeze for a moment and then she climaxed, hard, accepting my climax as her rightful due as she did so.

We disengaged and I hauled my trousers back on. She didn't bother putting on her peignoir again, not that I was complaining. She was all smiles, almost purring again, she seemed so happy.

"I'll be back in a couple of days to check on your husband," I reminded her. "With proper bedrest he should be fine. If you have cause to worry before then, call the locum service again and they'll contact me."

She nodded and went with me to the door, standing behind it as she opened it. Not surprising as she probably didn't want to flash the neighbours.

"When you come back to see Barry you will be able to help me again if I need it," she wanted to know. She touched one hand to her face. "It would be dreadful he got better just to find me all wrinkled. He'd blame himself for not being well enough to look after me."

"I don't see that as a problem," I assured her. "Helping people is what we do."

As a matter of fact, I was feeling so helpful I wouldn't be surprised to find that I could probably fit in a third visit to check on poor Barry. I have to admit I was curious. Her reactions at times had been odd. How would she react if there was a next time? An interesting subject to muse on.