It s Always the Quiet OnesChapter 4 Wednesday
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Doctor John Holcomb turned away from the old gentleman in the hospital bed. Intern Holly Jackson could see the sadness in his eyes.
It's never easy to tell someone they are dying, and it is especially hard when the man's wife of fifty four years is in the room.
John turned to her in the hallway.
"That was a tough one," he said.
She nodded.
"I felt sorry for his wife," she told him.
John nodded and smiled gently.
"You handled it well, though," he told her. "A lot of interns won't give the "there's nothing more we can do" speech. They try everything imaginable, instead of just letting the person die in comfort and dignity."
Holly nodded. She was very impressed by John Holcomb, the way he had accompanied and supported Holly and the family as she brought the news that nothing more could be done and the old man would soon die. John had such a wonderful way with people.
Then she blushed as she thought of the way he'd had with her, last week. That evening was indelibly burned into her brain.
And her groin gave a small twitch as well. Her cunt (her favorite name for it) gave a little squeeze as she remembered the "lesson" he had taught her.
John looked at her and smiled slightly as she colored.
"That's little reaction you just had is normal, too," he said quietly. "Being in the presence of death reminds you of how short life is. And then you want to experience life. Sex is a wonderful way to affirm you are alive."
She nodded into his soft grey eyes, and he turned and walked down the hallway. Doctor John Holcomb was amazing. He seemed so comfortable with everything, including, she thought with a deepening blush, her body.
After they had gotten home the other night, he had made love to her. Made love, hell, she thought with a wicked little smile. He had fucked her better than she had ever been fucked in her life.
Her lascivious thoughts brought an immediate response from her pussy, and she felt it begin to lubricate, to get wet with her erotic excitement, to cream itself thinking of a big cock deep inside her wet cunt, fucking...
"No, no, Holly," she told herself silently. "Don't start playing the dirty words game and get yourself all worked up! You're a doctor, for Chissakes."
She broke out of her little reverie and walked in the direction John had gone, towards the Emergency Room admitting area.
She realized she liked the dirty word game. It got her so worked up. Her childhood had been so restrictive, so dead set against any kind of real pleasure, that all those wonderful things in life had been made "nasty," "dirty," a sign of weakness or moral turpitude or worse.
So Holly had turned that around, reveling in the badness, the nastiness, of her carnal needs.
Actually, she thought sadly, that had not been much of a problem. Other than Rick, her lover at college, she had never been with a man.
Rick had been good for her. He taught her that her body was something to enjoy, not an object of disgust. Holly had, of course, masturbated as a child, always feeling embarrassed and ashamed at the act.
Rick had tried to show her these things were normal, natural and beautiful. He taught her to like her cunt (his favorite name for it) and to suck his cock the way he liked.
But that old training was still there, so it became a part of the act.
The erotic thrill of having her cunt fucked by a big, thick, long cock (actually, Rick had been quite small, but that little inaccuracy never bothered her) was increased by her intense awareness of the nastiness, the lewdness, of it all.
Holly shook her head as if to clear it of all these thoughts. They had been creeping in, unbidden, every since last week, when John had handcuffed her and taught her about the word Mercy.
She had masturbated every night since, and most mornings as well. It was like a door had been opened.
She had not stepped through that door yet. Well, she did last week, but now she was outside again.
But the door stood ajar, beckoning her to enter and enjoy what lay beyond.
Holly finally managed to stop obsessing over these thoughts. A multiple trauma came in, a family involved in a rollover of their mini-van, and her erotic musings immediately gave way to the problems at hand.
In fact, she was so busy she put aside everything else, in the process of trying to save lives.
She didn't even notice the clock as her shift ended. She worked on till past midnight, until the little girl was out of danger and her father and mother were in surgery.
Finally she looked up at Marnie, the Head Nurse in the Unit. Marnie smiled at her and she was struck by her beauty. She was one of those women who looked like a centerfold: flawless brown Hispanic skin, very full lips and a body that would not quit.
Yet she was also an excellent nurse and invaluable assistant in these situations.
"You look exhausted, Holly," Marnie said. "Go home, before you fall over."
Holly nodded. She was exhausted. She went into the lounge and grabbed her coat and purse.
John Holcomb entered as Holly was turning to head for the door. Their eyes met.
"Excellent job out there tonight, Doctor Jackson," he said with a nod.
"I could have killed that little girl," Holly said, and she felt the tears coming up. He smiled slightly and took her in his arms. She began to sob against his chest.
"Inserting a chest tube carries risk," he told her. "You did fine. You found the artery you tore, repaired it, and kept going. That's what real doctors do. She's going to be fine."
She snuggled into his warm chest. He smelled of antiseptic, latex and that indefinable odor of maleness. Her body begin to respond to that and he chuckled. She pulled away from him, taking a tissue and wiping her tear-stained face.
"How did you know?" Holly asked, embarrassed.
"I could smell you, your excitement. Don't worry, it's not obvious. I'm just very sensitive to it."
They had never spoken about what happened last week. But it hung in the air like a musky incense, always there even when their conversation was about mundane hospital matters.
"I want to do that again," Holly said. She looked at John, both shocked and aroused by her bluntness.
John smiled.
"So do I, Holly," he said. "You're off Friday, right?"
She was surprised by her body's reaction. She felt a flush of passion, like a sudden liquid heat filling her body.
"Yes, I am," she said, looking into those knowing grey eyes.
John smiled.
"So I'll pick you up on Thursday night. Pack a small bag."
He winked and walked out of the lounge.
Driving home that night, Holly's head was spinning. God, she didn't realize how much last week had effected her! She could feel her cunt getting full, creamy with passion. She kept thinking of the word Mercy, and all the wonderful possibilities that entailed.
Holy stopped for fast food on the way home. She wanted a shower and then bed, but Holly knew she would not be going right off to sleep. She would masturbate first, and the anticipation was wonderful.
"Yes, Holly," she thought to herself. "You're going to go home and frig your hot little cunt until you come, feeling your damp excitement as you..."
She began to rub her legs together, feeling her pussy being rubbed by the tight pressure of her thighs.
By the time she got home, her pants were wet with her excitement.
She went into the house, fed Louis, her cat, and showered, cleaning her cunt extra well, (well, okay, playing with herself) as she felt her own excitement growing.
Friday. God, what would they do? What would she wear? What would John want her to do for him?
She hopped into bed, naked. Normally she wore flannel pajamas, but she wanted her body available and exposed.
She turned off the bedside lamp and lay in the gloom, letting her mind wander.
She was in a room, dark like here. She could hear the hushed voices around her, invisible in the darkness.
She lay on an examination table, naked and exposed.
Holly spread her legs and pushed the sheet aside, looking down at her naked body and imagining what the people in the room saw. Her small breasts, the nipples erect with excitement and fear. Her downy light brown cunt hair, making an arrow to point to her cunt, now exposed to all those men.
She closed her eyes, sliding her hands over herself. She felt a flush of shame at her nasty little fantasy, and she simply added that to the mix.
She was ashamed, and embarrassed. But there was nothing she could do, as John stepped forward out of the crowd, wearing his white physician's coat.
A single spotlight snapped on, lighting her cunt so everyone in the room could see it. John put on a pair of latex gloves as he began to speak.
"Our subject today is the female sex organ," he began, his deep soft voice filling the room. "It is a rather complex mechanism and there are some things I want you to be aware of as students."
Marnie stepped out of the darkness and Holly moaned with pleasure. She was so beautiful and desirable, and John smiled at her with those grey eyes.
"Would you expose the patient, please?"
Marnie stepped over, sliding her long fingers, with those marvelously long and manicured nails, down over Holly's cunt. Marnie slid her fingers inside Holly's outer cunt lips and pushed her open, exposing her wet pink inner flesh to the people in the room. Holly did this to her own cunt as she thought of it, and moaned at the erotic stimulation of it all.
Doctor Holcomb turned to a silver tray of instruments and took a small metal pointer. She could feel the cool tip touching her sensitive flesh as he continued the lecture.
"Now that the Labia Majora are opened, you can see the mid- line of this young lady's cunt. Yes, I use the common words as well as the medical, because they are quite descriptive. Although," he chuckled sexily, "the Latin term Labia, meaning lips, fits these structures quite well, since they close over the inner parts and protect it, not to mention they are as fun to kiss as the other set of lips."
"Of course," he went on, his voice taking an erotic tinge, "Holly's labia are pulled aside, so she is totally exposed and vulnerable."
She felt her pussy dampen even more. God, she was excited. She wanted to just beat off and come, but the fantasy seemed to have a life of it's own.
"Here, just posterior to where the Labia Majora meet anteriorly, is the hood of the clitoris. Her clitoris is swollen, which means this presentation is sexually exciting to the poor girl."
She touched her clit gently. God, it was hard!
"We move down into the Fissura Pudendi or Vulvar slit. I call this the Cunnis Vallecula, the valley of the cunnis. Cunnis, incidentally, is another name for the vulva and it where the word 'cunt' comes from. Towards the posterior end of this valley we find the opening of the vagina, her little pussy hole."
Holly slid her finger inside her wet pussy, sliding down to her vagina. A part of her brain was shaking it's head in disgust. All those years of medical school, just so she could name all the nasty parts of herself she had no business touching in the first place!
This actually excited her and she inserted a finger inside her moist slit, sliding over her clitoris and down to her vagina. Her urethra was dripping as well, and that was quickly reflected in her fantasy.
"She is ejecting a little urine from her urethra," John noted. "She is obviously very aroused." He looked over at Marnie.
"Let's adjust her to make her more visible to the students."
They brought her knees up to her chest and spread them. Holly did this herself, feeling the cool on her exposed pussy and ass. She slid her arms over her legs and pushed her knees down beside her chest with her elbows.
"All those years of yoga finally panned out," she thought to herself, and then her fingers found her gaping pussy. Oh, God, that was sexy!
The light fully illuminated her cunt and ass. Holly wanted to get a light and a mirror and see what the people in her fantasy saw, her cunt on display, her body totally exposed, her...
The orgasm hit, hard and sharp, even though she was not even touching herself. She moaned as her cunt constricted, and she felt the wetness trickle from her vagina, (or her urethra. At this point, it didn't matter) the rivulet continuing down over her sensitive asshole.
She forced herself to keep going. This was so fucking sexy!
She closed her eyes and saw John take another tool from the table. It was a urinary catheter, only made of hard stainless steel instead of the soft rubber ones she used all the time in the hospital.
He approached her cunt, hot under the bright light. His gloved fingers found her vagina and slid inside of her, holding her still with his fingers as the icy metal touched her urethra.
Holly let her legs go and jumped out of the bed. She went into her bathroom and took a Q-Tip from the holder and ran back into her bedroom. Fuck it. She wanted to and there was no one around to stop her!
She lay back, spreading her legs again. This was totally sick and perverse and she really didn't care.
She brought her legs up beside her chest again, stretching them apart to pull her cunt as open and as exposed as possible.
She found her urethra with her fingers, touching the sensitive flesh at the tiny opening. She found more wetness and rubbed it around the marvelously sensitive spot, then put the end of the cotton swab to the opening.
She closed her eyes, imagining John sliding the metal tube deep inside of her most private opening, the forbidden entrance never even spoken of in even the most filthy pornography. She gently pushed the swab into the tight hole, and then began to frig herself wildly.
She came, hard, the pleasure exploding in her cunt and head. She kept finger fucking her clit and slid her fingers into her cunt hole as well, fucking herself to another sharp orgasm.
With her other hand she began to move the Q-Tip, fucking her urethra with it. She pushed in deeper and a spray of wetness, her own urine, emitted from the tiny little hole.
Her orgasm was huge, flowing over her like a wave of hot oil, immersing her in it's wet, pleasurable flow. She pulled out the Q-tip and dropped it, grasping her cunt in both hands and rolling onto her side, moaning, intoxicated with pleasure. She touched her wet cunt, loving the feeling of complete release and abandoning herself to it.
The next morning she was horrified. She'd had to sleep on the couch, because of the big damp spot in the middle of her bed.
Holly put the linens and mattress cover on to wash, embarrassed by her antics the night before, hoping the mattress wouldn't stain too badly.
Yet another side of her was on fire. So she got a little pee on the bed. So she had a little fantasy and a wonderful orgasm. She was planning on fucking a man Friday, someone who was almost a stranger until last week, and their first "date" had started out with her being handcuffed.
Then she realized that John would probably understand what she had done. Even if it didn't excite him (and face it, how many people would really get turned on by the thought of a public medical exam?) he would probably look at her with those lovely gray eyes and say, "Would you like to do that?"
The thought made her hot, very very hot.
She had to masturbate again before she left for work.
Thursday night, she waited nervously for John to show up. He had told her earlier he would be there around eight, and don't eat dinner.
She checked herself in the hallway mirror. Her light brown hair was pulled up and fastened in back, accentuating her high cheekbones and delicate features. She was beautifully made up, the result of selling cosmetics while working her way through medical school.
Holly wore one of her few dresses, a classic black dress, low enough in front to show the swell of her breasts and short enough to show off her nice legs, made even sexier (she thought) by her nearly knee high black boots with high stack heels.
She lifted the skirt enticingly, admiring her dark stockings and revealing the tops of them. They were thigh-highs, and her white thighs (they were tanned, but still very white against the dark material around them) swelled above the tight elastic tops.
She raised the skirt more. Her panties were black and tight, but also very, very sheer. Her pubic hair and the swell of her pudenda (from the Latin for 'to feel shame, ' she thought with a nasty little thrill) was clearly visible through them.
She spread her legs slightly, aroused by her own body, packaged with one thing in mind: Letting John enjoy it, any way he wanted to.
She touched herself lightly and arched in pleasure. She was so exited it wouldn't take long to bring herself off.
She watched her image in the mirror, this elegant young woman, attractively dressed, her dress up around her waist, exposing her thighs and her very sheer panties, her long painted nails sliding down and inside her moist, wet...
The doorbell rang and she dropped her skirt quickly. She sniffed her fingers, (Oh, god, they reeked of her excitement! She had to wash before John noticed) and went to answer the door.
John looked wonderful, in tan slacks and a light pullover sweater with a shirt and tie beneath. He smiled at Holly as he looked her over.
"You look lovely, Holly," he said, taking her hand, the hand she had been touching herself with. She watched helplessly as he brought it to his lips, sliding her fingers inside of his mouth, tasting her sex on them.
He smiled as he slid his tongue over them and then took his mouth from her.
"You taste lovely, too," he said, his eyes bright.
"But..." Holly looked back at the hall mirror, then at the sidelight in the front door. Oh, God, he'd been watching her!
She flushed. Embarrassment, shame, and anger all began to well up...
John kissed her, taking her deep in her arms and sliding his insistent tongue deep into her mouth.
She kissed him back, passionately, sliding her leg up and around his. She pushed her pubis against his thigh, loving the feeling of wantonness that rushed through her.
She felt his hand slide down over her breasts and down under her skirt, cupping her hot pussy. She moaned as they kissed and probed.
Then John stepped away from her, smiling.
"We should be going," he said, checking his watch. "We have reservations."
She grabbed her bag from beside the door and they walked out to his Jaguar. She ran her hand over the polished finish. The car was British Racing Green and immaculately cared for. God, it was a lovely vehicle!
John held her door for her, then went around and got behind the wheel.
"I guess new Jaguars are the providence of handsome, successful doctors," she said, settling back into the tan leather seat.
She remembered what had transpired when she was last in this seat and an erotic glow enveloped her.
"Not really," John replied. "This one's a '76."
"Oh," Holly said, "a classic."
John nodded with a smile.
"Yeah, it sounds a lot better than an old car."
He started the engine and they pulled off, gathering speed, the smooth acceleration of the car barely noticeable in the plush, wood-trimmed interior.
She sighed and tried to relax. She looked forward to the evening, sure how it would end up, yet she also felt a little nervous about the whole thing.
John looked over at her.
"Would you open the glove-box, please?"
She opened the polished wood of the glove-box, and took a sudden inhalation of breath. A black dildo was inside, short but thick, with a large rounded base.
"Would you please put that up your cunt?" he asked. He looked over and smiled understandingly.
"It's just an idea. You always have Mercy. But I thought it would be sexy, sitting in a nice restaurant with a beautiful woman who just happens to have a dildo up her cunt."
Holly felt the wave of excitement run through her. She took out the dildo, examining it's smooth exterior. It had a definite curve upward and it was very thick, though only about six inches long. The rounded, wide base had a raised edge along the top, of softer material.
She realized this ridge would be right against her clit, and felt herself becoming very aroused.
She closed the glove-box and spread her legs. But John slowed the car, and pulled to the curb.
"May I?" he asked, taking the dildo from her.
He lifted her skirt, admiring her cunt through her sheer panties. Then he gently pulled her panties aside, pulling her pussy lips open.
Holly felt herself moisten as she remembered the other night's fantasy. He held her pussy open, just as Marnie had in her imagination, and found her cunt opening with the head of the dildo. He gently slid it inside of her, filling her vagina with the warm, hard yet yielding dildo. She felt the base slide up against her, seating firmly against her clit and filling the valley of her cunt.
Then John slipped the panties over it's base, the material holding the dildo in place. He slipped down her skirt, looking at her, his excitement obvious.
"Comfortable?" he asked.
She shook her head. The dildo filled her cunt, pushing up into her. The base was right on her clit, and even the smallest movement was enticing.
And the thought of going into a restaurant like this, with a dildo inside of her, causing lewd pleasure with every step, was excruciatingly sexy. And the fact no one in the restaurant would even be aware that she had it inside of her, exciting her, caressing her, had her creaming already.
"I'm way too turned on to be comfortable," she told him honestly. "My cunt is already soaked."
John smiled at her honesty.
"That really excites me, Holly. My cock is so hard I can barely think. I want to fuck you so hard."
"I want you to," Holly told him, shocked at herself. "I want you to do whatever excites you."
He nodded and pulled the car from the curb.
It was the most wonderful, most bizarre dinner Holly had ever experienced. The restaurant was very posh, and she admired its elegance as they were shown to their table. She had a sudden orgasm just before they got there, and she stumbled, almost crying out in pleasure.
John steadied her and helped her sit down. This pushed the dildo more firmly inside of her and she almost came again.
The food was wonderful, the wines superb, the service impeccable. And all the time she was being fucked, touched, probed by the dildo.
John watched her, knowing exactly what was going on, and that excited her even more.
She smiled at John across the table.
"The seat is going to be soaked," she told him pleasantly. It excited her to give the appearance to the other patrons that they were engaging in urbane table chat, while actually talking about this very erotic experience.
"And my dress as well," she added.
"And that excites me no end, Holly," John said, taking her lead and affecting a sophisticated accent. "Would you sit back and straighten up, please?"
She did, feeling a little chastised. But as she did so, the dildo pressed deep inside of her and she closed her eyes and bit her lip to keep from screaming as a wonderful orgasm hit her like a whip.
Holly groaned, trying not to cry out. But holding her cry in just brought on another climax, bigger than the first. She could feel tears running down her face, then felt John's touch as he dabbed at the tears with his handkerchief.
She opened her eyes and looked at him, amazed.
"John, I don't think I have ever been this sexually excited," she said primly. "Keeping up the appearance of a refined conversation in a nice restaurant while coming your brains out is a tremendous a turn-on."
He smiled genteelly across the table.
"And having a lovely dinner with a lovely woman, smelling the wonderful musk of her excited, dildo filled cunt is simply delightful," John said, taking a sip of wine.
Holly had realized that her pussy was wet. But it wasn't until she slid her hand beneath her dress that she realized it was soaked through with her fluids. She was both distressed and titillated by this.
"John, I have a problem," she said, using the same cultured voice she had been using since they had entered the restaurant.
"I seem to have soaked the ass of my dress with my excitement, dear," she said, the words so incongruous to their refined delivery.
John bit his lip, trying not to laugh, and that started her giggling. She had a fair amount of wine, she realized, and she had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing out loud at the entire situation.
John motioned to the waiter.
"My date spilled a glass of wine on her seat," John explained quietly. "I'd like to settle the tab and we'll leave by the back entrance."
"Of course, sir."
The waiter left with John's credit card. He was back a few moments later with the slip to be signed and he discreetly gave Holly a towel. She wiped herself and the seat as best she could after the waiter left.
"Shall I leave the towel here?" Holly whispered with a smile, "or shall I bring it home and you can have it for dessert?"
That got John and he laughed out loud. Holly couldn't help it; she began to laugh as well. They sat and laughed at the whole situation. The movement made Holly have another orgasm, and they laughed at that as well.
Finally, they managed to get back under control. John got up and helped Holly out of her seat. They walked to the nearby exit, his arm gently around her, and left the restaurant.
Out in the cool night he grabbed Holly and pulled her to him, kissing her roughly.
"Jesus, you turned me on in there," he said, cupping the wet fabric of her dress over her hips and kneading her damp ass through it.
"You don't mind that I thought it was funny?" she asked.
"I loved it," John told her, looking deep into her eyes. "Just because we play these little games doesn't mean we can't have fun doing it."
He kissed her again, this time more gently yet more passionately. She moved against him, feeling his hard cock against her belly.
Tonight was certainly different than anything she had imagined. It was like a real date, only with sex involved.
She laughed at the thought. It's a date, silly! Of course there's sex involved.
"What are you laughing at?" John asked, as they walked towards the front parking lot.
Holly hesitated. The dildo was doing it's job, keeping her right on the edge of orgasm. She took smaller steps, letting herself enjoy the dildo moving inside of her, rubbing her in all her pleasure spots.
"I was just thinking that this is just like a date, only with sex. But that's silly, isn't it?"
John looked at her thoughtfully.
"Not really," he said. "For most people, sex is almost an afterthought. You only think about that at the last part, just before you part ways."
He smiled.
"We, on the other hand, integrate it right into the date from the very beginning."
Holly giggled.
"I'm glad," she said as they reached the Jaguar. "That was the sexiest date I've ever been on."
In the car, John moved against her and kissed her again. His hand slid down under her street, cupping her sodden cunt.
"Shit," he whispered. "You really were creaming. I love that."
"You know I do," she told him.
Holly had the feeling she could tell this man anything. Yes, it turned her on.
But it also made her feel safe, and accepted.
John started the Jag and pulled off.
They reached John's house a short time later. Holly was still on the verge of orgasm, and was beginning to feel shaky.
John parked the Jag in the garage and turned to her.
"I want to take the dildo out of you now."
Holly smiled sexily at him.
"I'm not sure I want you to," she said slyly.
John shook his head.
"Overstimulation is a problem. I want you going over the edge on me," John told her.
"What, having another orgasm? I think I can handle that."
John slid toward her and touched her breasts through her dress. She jerked at his touch.
"Shit, I am turned on," she said.
John nodded, sliding up her dress. She watched as he moved her very wet panties aside and gently teased the dildo from inside of her.
She was so excited it was almost painful.
John wrapped the sodden dildo in the bar towel (she had brought it) and smiled as he wrapped it up.
"I liked your idea for dessert," he said with a wink.
They walked into his lovely home. Holy had only seen part of it the last time she was here, but she loved the Oriental Shoji screens and live bamboo plants and black and red lacquered furnishings, with cinnabar accents.
"Have you ever been accused of being gay?" she asked him.
John nodded and smiled.
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