Surprise (17 page)

“At first?”

“I soon found out that a man doesn't mind pulling out of a girl before he's shot his load if she takes him in her mouth right away.”

Dr. Jack adjusted his pants, surreptitiously he likely thought. “I see.”

“Now I'm living with Paul, who I think you know, and I think I love him. I don't want anything to spoil our relationship but, well, I'm an
addict
, you see?”

“Perhaps you could explain?”

“Paul loves me to go down on him.”

“Then what's the problem?”

“A man—there's only so much in him.”

“Oh?”

“You see, I always wake him up in the morning with a nice blow-job. Luckily, his office is close to where we live, so he comes home every day to a hot lunch served
on
the table, while I take mine
under
the table, if you get my meaning.”

“I understand.” Dr. Jack crossed his wrists in front of him, casually.

Connie squirmed on her seat and contrived to work her skirt's hem a couple of inches higher. “In the evening when he gets home, I usually leave him be until we've had supper. Once I've loaded the dishwasher, though, we spend the evening watching TV. Sometimes we watch a regular show, sometimes the porno channel, but we always do it with me curled up on a cushion between his feet, playing with him, then sucking him. Most days it ends up he's climaxed six or seven times, not counting when I wake up in the night—for a
snack
.”

“Remarkable!” Dr. Jack exclaimed.

“But it's never enough,” Connie complained. “Help me, Doctor?”

“Well, at first blush it seems that your first experience of, um—performing fellatio, has conditioned you to…”

“No, Doctor,” she interrupted. “I don't care
why
I'm the way I am. I don't want to be
cured
of my addiction.”

“Then?”

“I want to
cope
with it. I just need more. Is there anything you can suggest?”

“Well, diet might help your boyfriend, but not by much I'm afraid. I know he's in good shape from seeing him work out. I could prescribe vitamins, but the effect would be minimal.”

“So, if I can't increase his—er, yield, what can I do?”

Dr. Jack thought, or seemed to. Eventually he cleared his throat again and suggested, “Have you considered a life-style change? Polyamory?”

“Taking another girl to bed with us? That'd only make my problem worse, wouldn't it? It might inspire Paul to produce more, but I'd have to share.”

“It wasn't the introduction of another girl that I was thinking of.”

She grinned. “I thought you might suggest that, because of what I've heard about you.”

“Since my divorce, the nature of my sexuality seems common knowledge.”

“Your wife caught you with another man, right?”

“Er…right.”

“So you're bisexual?”

“Yes. That doesn't offend you?”

“The opposite. I've always found you attractive, Doctor. You being bi only makes you hotter to me.”

“Oh!”

“So I should suggest to Paul that he share me in a threesome with another man?”

“Would that upset him?”

“I'm not sure, Doctor. I've seen him looking at other men
that way
, if you know what I mean.”

“Then why not bring the idea up subtly, and see how he reacts?”

“I will! Thanks!” Connie slid off the stool, managing to hitch her skirt even higher. “I've got one more problem, Jack. May I call you Jack?”

“Of course. What's the other problem?”

“It's an immediate one. Talking to you like this has given me a major jones.”

“Meaning?”

“An urge, a compulsion. I
really
need some semen—right now.”

“Is Paul at home?”

“No, and I don't think the way I'm feeling, that I could wait that long anyway. You wouldn't want me to accost some strange man on the subway, would you?”

“Of course not, but what can I do to help?”

“Give me what I need, Jack. Now!”

“Give…?”

Connie dropped to her knees and brushed his hands aside. Before he could protest, she had his zipper open and her hand inside his immaculately tailored pants.

“Connie?”

“Just relax.” She pulled his cock out, delved again and extracted his bulging scrotum. “Lovely big balls,” she crooned. “I
knew
they would be.” Tears of joy filled her eyes as she stroked his smooth length. “Come to Connie!” She took the head of his cock into her mouth as she caressed him, slowly and gently, then faster and harder. The way she'd primed him with her words and the leg-show she'd given him, it didn't take long before the lovely warm creaminess filled her thirsty mouth. Connie licked her lips and looked up into Jack's eyes. “Would you like to fuck me now and talk some more after, or talk first and fuck later?”

 

A week later Connie took her lover, Paul, to Jack's office. It was after regular hours. She made the introductions and excused herself to go back to the empty waiting room, but she left the connecting door ajar, so that she could eavesdrop.

Jack said, “Paul, first off, I want you to understand that there's nothing wrong with you, nor does Connie blame you.”

Paul almost whined, “I do my best, but you can't pour a quart out of a pint pot.”

“Or a gallon from a quart one, from what Connie tells me. Paul, this isn't about
curing
you. It's about helping you cope with the unusual demands that Connie's condition puts on you.”

“Anything, Doc. I'll try anything.”

“We both want to make Connie happy. I'll do all I can to help.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“First, I need to examine you. Would you strip off, please?”

“Where?”

“Right here. We aren't going to be disturbed.”

“Do I have to wear one of those silly gowns?”

“No. Just get your clothes off and lay on the examination table, please.”

“Okay.”

Connie put her eye to the crack. She knew Paul's body well but there was something about watching him strip, with Dr. Jack watching him as well, that was extremely erotic. Paul turned his back to both Jack and her, to shed his pants and boxers. She loved the way the muscles in his lean bum rippled when he bent over. From the look on Jack's face, his admiration for her lover's rump was as great as her own.

Paul shielded his privates as best he could while climbing up onto the cloth-covered table. Jack snapped on a pair of latex gloves, just the way the doctors in her fantasies had when they'd been about to
examine
her. Jack kneaded Paul's sculpted pectorals, then palpitated his hard flat abs.

“You're in excellent shape,” he said.

“Thanks.”

“I'm going to have to examine the, er—parts that…”

“I understand, Doctor.”

“I'm going to have to take a sample.”

“A sample? Of my…?”

“Exactly.”

“Do you want me to go to the bathroom and…?”

“No. If I'm going to help you help Connie, I have to observe the process.”

Paul gulped. “You want me to…? In front of you?”

“That wouldn't work. Look, put this on and think of Connie wearing something sexy, doing something to you that you particularly like.” He handed Paul a sleeping mask. “Just lay still and let your imagination go to work, okay?”

There was doubt in Paul's voice when he said, “If you say so, Doctor,” but he obeyed.

Connie slipped out of her shoes and tiptoed back into the examination room. Jack gave her a nervous grin. She smiled at him encouragingly and nodded towards Paul's lovely but currently limp cock.

Jack took a deep breath. The backs of the fingers of his left hand moved Paul's shaft to one side. Paul gasped but barely twitched, though the muscles in his tummy tightened.

“Your scrotum seems healthy, no lesions or scars,” Jack said. He weighed one testicle in his cupped palm. “Your testes are larger than average, but then they would be, wouldn't they.”

Paul grunted.

“They're still within the normal range,” Jack continued. “Firm and smooth, no sign of any deformity or damage. Excellent!” He adjusted himself inside his pants.

Paul's cock lifted slightly.

Connie grinned. Paul was reacting and Jack was having a hard time maintaining his professional distance.

“Now for the penile shaft,” Paul said. “Now, just think of Connie as I…” His latex-sheathed fingers stroked the full length of Jack's cock with an expert touch that confirmed, to Connie, that this wasn't the first time he'd handled one for the pleasure of it.

It was so quiet in the examination room that Connie fancied she could hear the subtle wet friction as Jack slowly masturbated her lover. Paul made fists but didn't protest. His erection engorged and became rigid. There was the subtle aroma of pre-cum in the air, perhaps Paul's, perhaps Jack's.

Connie put a finger to her lips and moved closer. A gentle tug on the tab of Jack's zipper drew it down. His cock flipped out. He was going commando! Her fingertips' touch twitched it and encouraged him to pump Paul a little harder and faster.

In a strangled voice, Jack said, “Just think of Connie, sweet loving Connie, Paul.”

Paul's face tightened. Perhaps Jack reminding him who was stroking his cock wasn't such a good idea, but his hips lifted a little, as they always did when it was good for him.

Jack pumped harder. Paul grunted. The eye in his glans was oozing in a way that made Connie salivate. He made tight fists. His bum came right up off the table. The moment was imminent! Connie swooped just in time to take Paul's first heavy gush into her mouth.

Paul sat up. A protest, “Doctor!” burst from his lips. He snatched his sleeping mask off and gaped with bewildered shock when he discovered that it was
Connie's
lips that were wrapped around his shaft and
her
mouth that was sucking his cream from him.

Connie slurped off to exclaim, “Surprise!”

Jack echoed her, though in a more subdued voice.

Before Paul could speak, Connie steered his hand to Jack's shaft. Reflexively, he began stroking.

“That's a good boy,” Connie told him. “Now return Jack's favor while we discuss our future living arrangements, the three of us.”

 

 

 

 

I rushed to the bathroom, the skin of my penis burning, reddening and throbbing. The searing pain, my guilt and my lightheadedness combined to inspire religious-minded logic. I decided God was taking revenge upon me, striking me down in retribution for my excessive masturbation. A divine entity had guided me in the darkness of my bedroom, had made me grab the BENGAY off the bedside table instead of the hand lotion, and smirked as I squirted a generous dollop onto my erect staff. Once in the bathroom, I hurriedly rinsed myself under the tub faucet.

After a good hour of cold water and soap, the pain dissipated some. I dried my crotch with a towel, then slathered my privates with baby powder. No longer in pain, but aware of my pulsating member, I lay in bed and vowed never to masturbate again. I thought about going to church Sunday, giving money to the homeless, and volunteering at a food bank. Around 1:00
AM
, six hours before I needed to leave for work, I fell asleep.

Upon waking, I decided that what had happened last night was the old me. I'd be different from now on. In the bathroom, I took my dick out to pee. Looking closely, I saw no visual scars or open wounds. Things were intact, though it was red and swollen. I quietly thanked God for not branding me with a permanent injury to forever mark my perversions. I peed. A slight burn, but I could take it. In the shower I rinsed off the baby powder. Born again, pure, clean, I dressed for work.

In my cubicle I pecked away at my keyboard, called the west coast office to coordinate a press release, sent emails and held a teleconference. I became a normal functioning member of society, no longer a masturbating deviant. Things would have continued this way right up until my lunch break, but then Jen came by.

“Oh, hi Jen,” I said, sounding like a squeaky-voiced, fourteen-year-old who masturbates all the time.

“Hey, Sammy,” she said. She had on her sexy sweater. Perfectly fine professional garb, but something about the way it cupped her breasts drove me nuts. It clung to her like a spandex wetsuit, yet had a warm, cozy look that made me want to curl up between her boobs.

“How's it going?” she asked. She leaned on my cube wall in a way that changed the alignment of her tits.

“Can't complain,” I said. I turned my swivel chair toward her and smiled. I wanted it to be a gentle smile, one that would hide the fact I'd been thinking about her when I squirted BENGAY on my dick.

“You get lunch yet?” I asked.

“I brought it,” she said, holding up a brown bag that I probably would have noticed earlier if she'd been wearing a different sweater.

I felt my penis grow. It hurt.

“Yeah. Okay. See ya,” I said, and swiveled back around and made an effort to think of company reports and email. My penis calmed.

Since meeting Jen a year ago, I'd come up with several reasons why I'd never asked her out. They were as follows: 1) She probably had a boyfriend better looking than me. 2) Inter-office romances were unprofessional. 3) She'd never date a junior associate because she was a full associate.

I should have been promoted to full associate last quarter. Could be Jenkins forgot, or maybe he didn't want to promote me. Who knew. But if I did make a fuss and was promoted, then I'd have one less reason for not asking Jen out and I'd feel like even more of a jackass for not doing it.