Friday, Aunt Polly met me the side door. She wore a loosely tied, short robe. She wore nothing under it. I tickled her already moist pussy.
"Good afternoon, Doctor."
"Good afternoon, nurse."
"You have a patient waiting in your office." Aunt Polly winked."
"I'm nervous."
"I took the liberty of having her to disrobe."
"Fine."
She reached for my belt and unbuckled it. She whispered in my ear. "She's a little nervous too." She lowered my zipper and let my pants fall to the floor.
I started to protest.
"Shhhh. The doctor's needle should be prepared to give shots."
"I forgot."
She stooped to untie my laces and slip off my shoes, followed by my pants and shorts. Her fingers encircled me and guided the head of my enlarging prong to her lips. Her stiff, pointed tongue rotated about the glans. She stood to remove my shirt.
"This way, Doctor, your patient's waiting."
I followed Polly into the living room. Before entering, she paused and opened her robe but did not remove it.
Recumbant, eyes closed, the naked woman lay on the couch. Her thighs parted to reveal the deep indentation and the partially open, brownish-pink labia. Small, pert breasts, peaked by taut, burnt rose nipples appeared moist as though someone had recently tongued them. Her eyes opened, saw me and a hand flew to partially cover a forest of black curls at her crotch.
Ruth Eleanor Taylor, mother of Paul Taylor, one of my best buddies, sat upright. Her free arm crossed her chest. Spread fingers attempted to hide one small, firm breast in a show of far too late modesty.
"Jay!"
"Mrs. Taylor!" My hand automatically moved to shield my erection.
Ruth Eleanor, played Euchre with my mother, every Wednesday night at their card club. They went to the same church on Sunday. For years, in my day dreams, I pictured Paul's mother naked, while I tugged at my rampant pecker. For years I had dreamed of seeing that dark place Paul had once described hidden between his mother's long, lush thighs. Aunt Polly raced to the woman's side. "There, there now, Hon, relax. Doctor will make you feel ever so much better." She placed a restraining hand on Mrs. Taylor's shoulder and urged her back. "Doctor, come examine your patient. Her nerves are in a terrible shape. Do you have anything to calm her?
"I don't think Mrs. Taylor wants to play this game."
"Of course she does. She told me just the other day she hadn't got a good injection for ever so long."
"He's just a boy," protested Mrs. Taylor.
"Of course he is. And so enthusiastic." Polly added, "So resilent. You'll love him."
"I can never face his mother again. I'm mortified."
"Now you lay back and relax," soothed Aunt Polly. She turned to me. "I'll assist, Doctor. The lady has an extreme case of under-attended pussy. Can you help her?"
I nodded gravely. I was scared to death. "If she wants treatment, I think we can work something out."
Aunt Polly grasped my tool and, to overcome my nervousness, stroked it until it was as hard as ever. Ruth Eleanor will simply adore your injections."
"I'm going home," protested the squirming, long-legged woman on the couch. "This is a mistake. I don't know how I got here." The pretty, middle aged brunette covered her crotch with one, long-fingered hand and attempted to get up. But she checked out my boner from the corner of her eye.
Aunt Polly urged her back. Now we know what's best for you, don't we Jay?"
"Yes ma'am," I said, though I was not at all sure.
"After she receives one of your injections, she'll be ever so much better."
"If she doesn't want it?"
"Let me go. I don't belong here." Ruth Eleanor Taylor twisted and struggled until she was face down and her big rounded, bottom stared up at us. Aunt Polly glanced at me, a worried look on her face. "We can't the poor woman leave in this condition. She'll tell the whole town."
"Let me go," begged Ruth Eleanor. "I had no idea it was Jay. He'll tell Paul he saw me like this."
"I won't tell anyone," I promised."
"After you've had one of Jays treatments, I'm sure you won't mind," purred Polly.
I was worried. If she told Mom, I would be grounded for months. I would never be able to screw Aunt Polly again.
"Now those pretty cheeks are positively asking for a tanning. Maybe she ought to be warmed first," said Aunt Polly. "Sometimes that helps."
On an end table, as if prearranged, were a bottle of baby oil and an old fashioned hair brush. Polly picked up the brush and slapped the back against her palm. She passed it to me and nodded to the lush, naked bottom cheeks rising before me. She motioned for me to lay it on.
My first stroke was rather pathetic and the firm flesh jiggled hardly at all but it got the lady's attention.
"How dare you!" she raged.
The second stroke was much harder and the crack rang from the jiggling flesh as the shape of the brush emerged as a red brand on her right ass cheek.
The lady screamed.
"Give it to her!" Polly urged. After a dozen slaps with the back of the brush brush, she motioned for me to attack reddened flesh from another angle. I had no idea where this was leading but I enjoyed this smacking of reddening flesh. The lady's protests turned to moans. Now, her bottom raised, it seemed, to meet each downward arc of the brush.
Soon, Ruth Eleanor Taylor ground her crotch into the couch.
"I think that is just what the lady needed," said Polly. "Now move to phase two."
"Noooo," moaned Ruth Eleanor Taylor. "Not in front of the boy!"
Polly reached for the baby oil. "I'll assist, Doctor." She opened the cap and spread liberal ammounts, gently, over the lady's backside not missing the deep furrow and the dark rear passage with its brown, crinkled rosette. Polly oiled a finger and forced it into the tight opening to the second knuckle."
"Nooo!" cried Ruth Eleanor Taylor.
"It will make a new woman of you," soothed Polly.
"Not with the boy in the room," protested the gasping, naked woman.
Polly coated the brush handle with more oil then handed it to me. She gestured to the opening she had just annointed.
I hesitated, looked at her quizzically. "She'll have us arested."
Polly shook her head. "This is what she craves."
I touched the rounded handle to the the puckered place and slowly applied pressure. When approximately half of it had disappeared, I paused.
Polly shook her head and mouthed, "All of it." That meant at least seven or eight inches, total.
Ruth Eleanor Taylor, her superiority in shreds, moaned and twitched at my ministrations.
I had a horrible feeling that Aunt Polly and I could go to jail if this haughty, superior acting friend of my mother's ever walked out this room. I slowly forced the rest of the smooth plastic handle into the lady's tight, now docile anal opening. For a moment I had the illusion that Ruth Eleanor Taylor's ass was rising to take more of that plastic as though I were not feeding it to her fast enough.
At last the bristles tickled her left ass cheek. The lady's sigh was not a signal of pain.
Polly silently motioned me to saw it in and out of the lady she called her friend. Evidently she knew better than I. I manipulated the brush until I was signaled to stop.
"I believe she has been properly primed, Doctor," murmured Aunt Polly. "Now administer one of your famous injections."
"There?"
"Of course. One injects where it does the most good." She motioned me to mount the wide couch between the prone woman's legs. The woman beneath me made no comment, as though resigned to her fate.
With Polly's help, I raised Mrs. Taylors hips and the older woman stuffed several cushions under her belly. Polly applied oil to my instrument and directed it to the target. Though much thicker than the brush handle, I slipped in without a great deal of force, though Mrs. Taylor's rear entrance was the tightest place I had ever entered.
The woman now seemed to be in a dream world. She moaned and pushed back as I pressed deeply into her. She met my strokes and countered them exactly as a willing companion fucks, meeting me measure for measure. Ruth Eleanor Taylor was one fine piece of ass, even if I was going to suffer for it.
