WARNING:
The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further!
This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.
* * * * * * * * * *
So far: Mr. Marcus's wife, Harriett, arranged for a local girl, Inga, to perform a ministry once a week while she's away. Despite the fact that Inga's mother, Dr. Crumholtz, demanded Mr. Marcus keep his hands off her daughter, he's had some very close calls. In an attempted to cure Mr. Marcus's supposed breast fetish, Dr. Crumholtz accidentally promoted a sexual encounter between him and Inga's best friend, Norma. Now Dr. Crumholtz, the barrier between Mr. Marcus and Inga, has returned, to verify her cure.
* * * * * * * * * *
I walked slowly across the street to my house, to engage Dr. Crumholtz. Confront was more like it. Her stern demeanor and demanding rules had kept me and her daughter apart. Did she and I have an appointment? Had she decided to turn me in to the authorities for my accidental fornication with Norma?
She spoke first. "Good day, Mr. Marcus. I'm here for your check-up."
Oh, yeah, she'd mentioned that, back when she'd apologized for putting me in a position to have intercourse with Norma. Guess I was safe on that count, at least for now.
"So how does this work?" I opened the front door. She followed me into the living room. Normally, I would have kicked off my shoes, but I didn't want Doc to get the wrong idea. "You want me to prove that large breasts don't turn me on, right?" All size breasts turn me on. My mind raced as I tried to think of a way out.
"Correct. Perhaps you could play the relevant portions of that smut tape my daughter witnessed?" she said.
"Nope. Long gone in the trash. Our counseling session convinced me to get rid of my porn collection." All of it was still safely stored in the attic, but that was none of Doc Crumholtz's business. Oh yeah, her first name was Stephanie.
"Well then, perhaps a well-endowed neighbor?"
Huh? I pointed to the general direction of my picture window. "Are you suggesting I call one of the women in this neighbor to come by and drop their top so you can see if I get an erection? You must be out of your mind!" I'd never seen Joy's breasts, even after fucking her. Probably bigger than her daughters.
Then it struck me. Perhaps I could turn the tables, embarrass her and end this. "Would you do it? Undress and show me your tits?"
Stephanie stammered and turned red.
"That's a fine idea," I continued. "Open your blouse and we'll see if that gets me up."
"I will not!" She crossed her arms. Did she know that made a shelf for her tits, now thrust forward?
"Then you won't get your check-up, because I'm not going to humiliate a friend and neighbor just to satisfy some morbid curiosity-"
"It is not curiosity. It is your mental health we're talking about. You were a sick man. Maybe you still are." She fingered the buttons on her dress. "Oh, all right. It seems I have no choice."
Damn it! Stephanie didn't take the bait. And the look on her face was not one of resignation but anticipation. "Hang on. Let's not do this here." I pointed to the large picture window. If this was really going to happen, then my neighbor Joy, her movers and the incidental passerby weren't welcome as observers. "Let's go upstairs."
I went first, to avoid watching her swinging ass that might get me going. After Inga's blowjob and my Joy-full fuck, my dick would stay wilted, but only for so long. "In here." I pointed to the bedroom.
I directed her to sit on the bed while I stood, giving her a straight-on look at the same organ she held while attempting to prevent me from fucking Norma. "Okay, show 'em if you got 'em."
Soon, Stephanie's bra-encased breasts were in sight, her dress collapsed around her waist. I conjured up thoughts to keep myself from getting excited. Walking on broken bottles. My arm as a punching bag for the neighborhood bully. Banging my elbow on a granite countertop. All real-life experiences. Anything to divert my mind from the half-clothed woman in my bedroom.
"All right, let me see if you're affected," she said.
I unbuckled and unzipped, letting my pants fall to the floor. I slid my jockeys down. My prick hung there, worn out but looking normal.
"Removing your bra would be a better test, wouldn't it?"
Stephanie stared at my dick. "Oh, all right." She reached behind and unclasped the garment. She tugged it off and let it drop to the floor. Her tits were a bit saggy but succulent nevertheless.
My mind escalated more torture scenarios. A paper cut plunged into a bowl of salt. Getting kicked in the balls. The pretend pain stories were working. Stephanie sat there, staring at my lip dick, speechless. What was she waiting for? An erection? Perhaps a proposition? After all, she was naked from the waist up. "So, now what?"
My comment startled her. Her head lifted. Her eyes were glassy, moist. "You seem to have conquered your affliction. Another success." She hesitated, then leaned over to fetch her bra. Her tits swung from her torso.
Given what Inga had told me about her father not reacting to his daughter's nakedness, I'd guessed Mr. Crumholtz was suffering from an erectile disorder. Maybe I should recommend good old Dr. Marcus, or better yet, his daughter BJ. But if Mr. Crumholtz had a problem, it may have been a while since Stephanie had been stimulated. She seemed to be fascinated with my penis during my Norma session. Well, perhaps interested is a better term. "Hang on. I didn't get it up. How do you know that's not my permanent condition?" The question was too logical to be ignored. And if she was interested in something more, this gave her the opening.
"I don't believe you have that problem. I witnessed you with Norma at my office, remember?" She licked her lips, never taking her eyes off my dick.
"But you don't know for sure, do you? I might have contracted some condition that prevents me from getting erect." I was referring to her husband's situation.
She stroked her jaw. "I see your point. What do you suggest?"
"You'll need to see that I can get an erection, so that you'll know it's in working order. Maybe if you stood up-"
She did. The dress stalled on her waist, so she pulled the garment to the side. Stephanie stood naked except for her full-sized panties covering her loins.
Despite all of the exercise, my prick was inflating. Stephanie was mesmerized by the slow growth. Suddenly, she plopped back onto the bed, and brought her hands to her face. Small whimpering sounds escaped from behind the barrier.
My penis was fatter but not yet pointing. I closed the gap between us, so close that my dick was directly in front of her face. She would have seen it, up close, if she hadn't been playing peek-a-boo. "Stephanie?"
She didn't respond. I sat down next to her and touched her shoulder. She twisted away.
"What's the matter?" I slipped my arm around her, pulling her closer. It wasn't meant to be sexual, only supportive.
"I'm pathetic."
Why would she say such a thing? "No you're not."
She leaned against me. I shortened my reach and rubbed her back.
"My marriage is a joke, my practice is a joke, and I'm sitting here naked in a patient's bedroom, wishing for him to pay attention to me. In all the wrong ways."
I knew about her deficient husband, but perhaps there was more. The only example I'd seen of her professional approach was misguided. And she wasn't completely naked. There was still the matter of her panties. But that was easily corrected.
"Now, now, you're under a lot of stress. It must be difficult, trying to raise Inga in a dangerous world." I kept rubbing her back, as I placed my other hand on her knee, cautiously.
Stephanie's breathing was jagged. "I want so much for her."
I wanted Inga so much, but no chance with Stephanie around. "You're doing a fine job. Maybe you need something." I ran my fingertips up and down her thigh. Her legs were pressed firmly together. "Support."
"I suppose so."
"Of course you do. You need to feel loved. Cared for."