But it had created the determination in him to advance his attempts at uterine penetration wherever the opportunity opened up for him. But it had never worked out until Pal came along.
He had tried it with both Betty and Heidi, many times. Sadly enough, for him, he had developed a phobia about mounting from the rear. It was due to the thoughtless females who had dubbed his poor tool "dog-pecker" and other…
But Pal's initial reaction to the sight of his equipment had given him a burst of courage, and he determined to try the rear entry position for the first time, caring not how dog-like it might make him feel, if he could just get it in where he wanted. And the sight of Pal's extremely provocative behind had been a bonus incentive.
Now he knew that a rear entry could gain him his goal, and it was like the first martini to a former teetotaler. He might even kick the discipline bit, with all the fun he could have without it.
He hadn't gone to a Leather Lovers' League meeting since the night he had lost his head and made that girl hemorrhage to death on the houseboat. Just because his penis-inferiority complex had him using oversize phallic devices to compensate for his natural deficiency.
He finished his coffee, and wondered if it might not be fun to go wake up Betty and phallate her from the rear. Then he remembered that Paul had her tonight.
He toyed with the idea of going to Pal's room, but he didn't want her to get the idea that he was dependent on her accommodations. The standard routine he and Paul had developed was psychologically designed to make the girls restless and unwanted by avoiding them for a day or two at a the, then taking them very casually or ruthlessly, to show the independence of mastery.
But his canine cock was hot to probe into some bitch, to sink past the plastic donut of a quivering womb-mouth. He got up and prowled the halls, then took the elevator down to the basement. He had to get into something soon, or he would go wild with the intensity of his new-found virility.
He paced back and forth in the basement hall, trying to decide what he should do. He opened one door a crack and looked in at the still form on the bed, then closed the door.
He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, and blotted the accumulated perspiration on his white clinic jacket. He paced some more, then suddenly strode to a door, opened it, and went in.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Pal awoke just as her door opened, eyes wide with startled wonder. Usually they came to her room only in the hours when she wasn't really sleeping.
The door had only opened a crack – just enough for her to see that it was Jonas Stillwell standing there, silhouetted against the lighted hall as he turned to pull the door shut again.
She lay there for a long time, wondering why he had looked in on her. Could something be happening out there that might make it easy to escape now? It just wasn't routine for anyone to look in unless they were bringing food, announcing bath time, or conning to get her for a sexual bout.
One thing she knew: Jonas had not pressed the safety button in the door frame, so the floor was definitely charged again when he reclosed the door.
She waited a while, then decided that he wouldn't return. She got up, pulled the bed apart to get her rubber sheeting out, and went through the tedious inch-worm routine again. When she had the door opened and the safety on, she closed it again, then went and remade her bed for the second time in a few short hours.
I never thought I'd be making the same bed so often, once I kicked basic training, she thought.
She paced quietly around her room, wondering why she was so restless. She wondered what Jonas was doing. As she thought of him, she couldn't help remembering with a tingling thrill the utter surrender he could win from her by wriggling his long little doggy prick into her womb.
The more she thought about it, the more restless she became. A warmth was creeping across her loins and belly. She put her hands up to cup her breasts, not quite knowing why she did it. As her palms made contact with the warm, creamy mounds, she discovered that her generous nipples were spongily erect and fully in bloom.
What's getting into me, she wondered, that I wake up all tit-hard and belly-hot like this? Can sexual activity be addictive? Has all this heavy stimulation of my genitals stirred me up so much that my body is going to start expecting and wanting a dose of sex every time I turn around?
She sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to think about anything she had read in her texts on such a theory, and she could recall nothing of the sort. She decided that what she needed was a cold shower. But she was scared to risk it, lest she get caught.
But finally she grew bolder. Especially when she caught herself fingering her pussy with one hand and squeezing her nipple with the other.
She sneaked across the floor and eased the door open until the safety switch-button popped out of the door frame. Then she pushed it back in, took a quick look to make sure the hall was deserted, and went out, closing the door behind her.
Then she became aware that another door in the hall was open, and additional light was spilling out of it into the hallway. She started to slip back to her own door, frantic with the fear of discovery.
But sounds from that other room made her prick up her ears, and her curiosity became stronger than her fear. She padded very slyly down the hall until she could just peer around the doorway into Heidi's room, and her breath caught in her throat, almost making her choke audibly.
She had thought that maybe Heidi was getting turned over in bed. She knew that the girl had to be turned often to prevent worsening of her skin infections. Heidi had been turned, all right. But for other reasons.
The German girl was on her hands and knees in the bed, and Jonas was mounted from behind, his back to the door. His white clinic jacket and slacks were on the floor nearby, with his shoes and socks.
Pal watched, spellbound, as his hairy ass moved around in an odd maneuvering manner, and she knew what he was up to. He was making that rubbery little point of his search out Heidi's puckery little womb donut. Just seeing the action made her go all weak and quivery, and she could hardly keep her knees from giving way beneath her.
"I tell you, Doktor Jonas, ve do better if you use lederschwantz. My pussy so big from vhere you use it ozzer times, I don't feel you in me!"
"Just be quiet, Heidi!" Jonas ordered. "This time it will be different, but you have to be patient. Now don't move until I get where I want to go. You'll know it when I do!"
Oh, God yes! Pal thought to herself. You'll know it, Heidi! You lucky girl! When that thing crawls into the puckered doorway of your very innermost soul, you'll know it! Oh-h-h! I can't stand here seeing it without almost feeling it go in my own pouting womb-lips!
She dug her fingers into her slippery, dripping crotch, and her breath panted rapidly as her passion mounted.
Then she saw Jonas cease his ass-waving motions, then push hard against Heidi's buttocks.
"Ach-ch-h-h-h! Mein Gott! Vat machen sie?" cried Heidi, with a warbling trill in her voice. "Doktor Jonas! You not suppose to fuck in zere! How you get in me like zis?"
Oh, Heidi! thought Pal. Don't knock it until you've really tried it.
"Argh-gh-h-h-h!" gurgled Heidi, as the tricky rubbery cone got past her fleshy iris. "I sink I am wrong! I sink you suppose to fuck in zere, and I don't care how you get zere. Just don't leave!"
Pal's crotch was slopping with her flow, and her hands continued to work around in the heated flesh as she watched and listened, panting with passion and dying to have the treatment that Heidi was getting.