"… and so we haven't had any lovemaking in over eight years. He's just too damned big for me, and after I had to get ten stitches when he tore me last time, we just agreed to skip the sex angle. But, Doc," she was almost pleading, begging for help, "I can't go on this way. A woman wasn't meant to live alone. I know he's getting some on the side, and since it's my fault, I've never asked any questions, but the damned road has got to run both ways. Right? All I want is to be loved. But I can't and won't have that telephone pole of his rammed up me all the time. What's the solution, Doc? Jim did say you were smart and discreet both. Can you help me?" she asked.
"I think I may have the perfect solution for your little problem, Agnes," I told her. "Now, you'll just have to trust me, and be honest with both yourself and anyone that I call in for assistance. Can you do that?"
"Oh, yes, Doctor. I'll be so grateful for anything you can do to help me."
I told her to wait right there, and went down the hall to where I had the four boys stashed. After kidding with them for a couple of minutes. I selected two of them, Dan Gallery and Tom Petrovic, and asked them to come with me. As we walked down the hall, I asked them pointblank how they'd like to have a couple of real women – not silly teenage girls. Their response confirmed my first impressions.
I put Tom in with Dottie and Agnes got Dan, and I then returned to the pair waiting for me. I told them I had to cancel their appointments, that I had just got too darned busy to take care of them this afternoon, and rescheduled them for the next day.
Back in the lobby I told Bob Cook that I could take care of him now, and we went to my private office. He accepted the highball I offered, and we leaned back and relaxed. I asked what the problem is, and…
"… so ever since my wife died ten years ago I've sort of had a pretty good thing going with the high school teenagers. You gotta be careful, fuckin' them gets you in trouble, but if your luck holds up, and you're selective, it's pretty good. I've been sellin' a lot of books their parents might not approve of – you know, Roth, Harold Robbins – all the goodies, and then sometimes I move a few French ticklers and some small dildoes and things like that."
"Hell, a drugstore sells everything except drugs and prescriptions nowadays, Doc. Incidentally, if you run any prescriptions through my place, I always pay a 20% kickback. Keep it in mind – it can add up over the years. But anyway, as I was saying, I even used to use a little Spanish Fly – cantharides euphonium, you know – in some of the sophomores' Cokes at the soda fountain, and in six minutes they'd be in the back room with me, wondering if I had something to 'take care of this awful itch' – and I sure as hell did."
"Man, I was making out like a burglar. Then you come to town. And, Doc, frankly, I haven't had any young cunt since two weeks after you hit town. Naturally, I get a little bit snoopy, and hey I how about that – old Doc's got the corner on the market. A real monopoly. Now don't misunderstand me, old man, I'm not competitive. I just want a piece of the action. And I mean a young piece. No more high school quim stops in my drugstore with the hots. No more tender nooky hangs around my soda fountain waitin' for my rigid digit. Damn and double damn, Doc. You really shut off the fountain of youth. Well, hell, I always say, if you can't whup 'em, join 'em. So here I am, volunteering. Can you fix me up, old buddy?"
He almost sounded plaintive, but at least we had a common goal.
I allowed as how we'd take care of him. God, I was soundin' like an Iowa hillbilly, too. But I sure couldn't find fault with any of the women in this town of 3,000. It seemed as if they all had the same philosophy that I had – catch 'em young and treat 'em right. All of the older women wanted the younger boys, and all the charming young pussies were aching to get stabbed by manure cocks. That's about as near as you'll get to finding a Utopia on each.
I mused reflectively on what was transpiring in my series of rooms down the hall. For instance, while the sheriff was getting his fill of tender young cunt, his sex-hungry wife was being balled in the adjacent room by a handsome young teen-age boy. Each of them dying of frustration in their own way, and not enough communication between them to be honest about their needs and desires. C'est la vie – the human race's perennial headache. That's all right, I thought, that's what keeps psychiatrist in business.
By now it was crowding noon, and I had to shepherd my patients out singly, so as not to let each one know who the others were that were coming to me for assistance. Especially Jim Fieser and his wife. I tapped gently on three doors, and told them, respectively, five, ten, and fifteen minutes. I knew they'd happily keep going right to the last second, and none would come out into the hall even a minute early, so that provided the protective overlap that was needed.
After lunch, I got a phone call from Betty. I had more or less designated her as a confidant and leader, and trusted her judgment as to the receptivity of the younger girls. She said that Susan Shaw, Jim Fieser's stepdaughter, was hot to trot and would like to try it. I told her to bring her over this afternoon, and we'd see what developed. I had Tony lining up half a dozen other young boys, because I could see that the sisterhood in this town was spreading the word on their gossipy grapevine, and it looked as if it were truly pyramiding.
Harold Wilson phoned me and asked if I could let Richardson, the undertaker, and Larson, who ran a grocery store, into the group. I told him to have them drop over this afternoon about two o'clock and I'd fix them up.
When Betty and Sue came in, I sent them down the hall to my private room, locked the lobby up, and followed them. They were undressing when I entered, and I was amazed at the rounded voluptuous body that young Sue displayed. Full, round hips topped by ballooning buttocks that narrowed to a sinuous waist that was charmingly capped by a bouncy full pair of breasts that would have done wonders on a full-grown woman. Betty caught me admiring Sue and laughed.
"Better'n you expected, huh, Doc?" she asked, and I had to agree enthusiastically.
"I was telling her," Betty went on, "about you, in pretty good detail, and I guess the only cock Sue has even seen was her stepfather's, which is the only one I've ever seen that rivals yours, Doc, so she thinks it normal for all men to be hung like horses. Boy, is she in for a disappointment later on in life, eh?"
I had disrobed and approached Sue and we sat down on the bed. I saw Betty across the room on the couch, idly and slowly massaging her crotch, and knew that as soon as I finished indoctrinating little Sue, and was able to get it up again, that I'd be expected to take good and total care of Betty, too. Okay by me – can't get too much of a good thing, I always say.
I put my arm around Sue's shoulders and let my hand drop over and cuddle her large young tit that sprang so invitingly toward my touch. We leaned together, and the kiss she gave me, so soft and meltingly warm and loving, made my cock start throbbing and filling. Her hand crept over onto my lap, but she didn't grab my tool, she just stroked the full length of its upper surface, and the hot touch of her palm along its top was so tickly that it began rising of its own accord. She then tried to grip it in her tiny hand, but could only reach part way around it, so the other hand helped, and she gripped it firmly at the base and lifted and lowered alternately on the skin. In no time it was at full erection, with a good six inches protruding beyond her two-handed grasp.
"Now, Sue honey," I said, "what you'd better do is blow me for a minute, while I play with you and warm you up, too." I pushed her head down gently toward my glands and she promptly placed her mouth over the head of my cock. I almost had to laugh at her next gesture. She actually tried to blow! Betty saw what was happening, and came over to the bed.