“He’s like Statue-of-David-perfect.”
“He’s all yours, though. Right now, here in this room.”
“He can’t see me.”
“He won’t reject you.” The doctor said confidently, gently, “Touch him again.” Small hands roamed his chest once more and John felt his cock full in the hammock of his briefs. “Notice he’s excited by what you’re doing.” One of the women felt the cock-bulge, too.
“Oh my God…,” the smaller woman’s voice trembled. Then a pair of hands fumbled at this belt. Soon the button was loosed and he felt a tug on the zipper. Then a pause. The doctor’s hand was still at his back and he sensed her leaning toward Vivian.
The doctor whispered, “You’ve got all evening to ease into this, Viv. Take your time.”
John breathed deeply, knowing the woman’s small hands were poised to pull that zipper and free his organ. He’d been here so many times with so many women, most eager to see it, to pull it out and handle it. Viv’s breathing was more nervous than aroused, though. He had to call on his deepest well of patience.
He heard her mumbling something unintelligible under her breath as she stood there.
“Yes, Viv,” said the doctor, “The mantra you used for your physical therapy’s a good tool here for you, too.”
“There were so many days when it felt like I’d never be able to walk…”
“But you got there, didn’t you?”
“I had a lot of support. The PT techs were terrific.”
“Well, you’ve got that same kind of support in this room.” The doctor stroked John’s back and he felt her run a pink palm across his lower abs. His cock twitched.
“OH!” gulped Viv.
Then the zipper began a slow descent and his pants loosened, his cock pressed the fabric outward. The woman’s breathing grew sharper and her fingers trembled when she’d opened his jeans fully. John imagined a bent, elfin woman staring at the organ straining his briefs, a hand held tentatively at the waistband. She continued to mumble under her breath.
The doctor kept her hands on his body, front and back. Their heat conveyed her power the same as they usually did in this room. On those days when he was Pan to her Aphrodite their energies flowed powerfully and unrestrained. Today they both held those powers at bay, waiting for the damaged woman to find the strength in herself to invite them out.
John felt a deep sympathy for her. It was hard to imagine being afraid of physical contact, being afraid to be seen. Just how broken was she? He longed to run his hands over her body to discover her wounds. There was an urge to heal that must have been at the root of his cougar-restoration enterprise, too. He just wanted women to feel good using his body. It was his gift. His gift was being asked to serve in a deeper way today.
“I used to like sex,” Viv whispered, “Men liked my body.”
“I hope you’ll be OK with me holding you soon,” John said, gently.
The woman sobbed. The doctor moved to take her in her arms. John imagined the small woman sunken into the motherly mammaries he knew so well, pictured the two women, flesh on flesh, nipple to nipple perhaps. He could hear the older woman stroking her hair and murmuring comfort. John stood there with his pants undone and a pulsing boner, longing to wrap his arms around them both.
After a while Viv hiccupped and said, “I guess I’ll try again.”
John waited, hands at this side, head raised, listening, phallus swollen and bobbing, his body alive with the desire to have her fingers on him again.
Then they were. She pushed his jeans halfway down his thighs and pulled at his briefs’ waistband. Air circled his thick member as it stretched from its confinement. A hand wrapped itself around his shaft and just held it, firmly, yet tentatively. Viv’s breathing grew ragged.
“I’m scared…” she said in a small voice.
“You’re not alone,” murmured the doctor. And she placed her hand on his shaft, too, wrapping Viv’s fine fingers in hers.
“John’s the gentlest giant you’ll ever meet.”
“Remember, I’m here to help you heal,” John said, “and your fingers feel wonderful.”
Their hands moved slowly along his cock and a shiver ran through him.
Viv gasped.
“I’m at your command, Viv,” he growled, not hiding his arousal. “You still turn a man on, as you can see.”
“As you can feel,” echoed Dr. Wright, “Isn’t this a nice tool?”
The women stoked him slowly together and he felt Viv’s hand come to life. She tested his stiffness, his slipperiness, dragging the shiny drops from his tip down his shaft. The doctor left her to explore him on her own and brought her hand back to his chest. He wondered if she felt a bit possessive of her Pan. Maybe she was just proud and happy to share.
“I wonder if you’re ready to be touched?” asked the doctor.
“Mmmm, almost…” sighed Viv. She put her other hand on his shaft and tugged him for a minute, then slid sticky fingers down to cup his balls. John trembled, restraining himself from wrapping her in his arms.
He groaned low in his chest as her hand weighed his testicles, rubbed in the fuzz they nested in. His cock dripped. Viv smeared the juice around his corona and he couldn’t help thrusting.
“Oh!” she gasped and stepped back.
John nearly grabbed her and pulled her against him. He felt the doctor’s hands instinctively restrain him.
“Imagine his hands on your body, Viv,” she offered, moving hers through his chest hairs.
After a long pause John felt a small hand take his and place it on her soft cheek. The woman pressed her face into his palm and he felt the tears she’d shed. They held this intimacy for a minute as John’s fingers felt her warmth and the peachfuzz of her cheek. She kissed his palm and he sensed her mouthing her mantra again.
John’s fingertips didn’t sense any hair where they lay along her cheek. Perhaps it was cut short or in a ponytail.
His other hand was lifted to frame her face and he heard the woman’s breath tremble.
“I’m sorry,” she said. When his hand touched her flesh he knew what she’d been afraid of. This cheek wasn’t soft, but leathery, contoured with small seams. It was warm, but dry, maybe ‘parched’ would describe it. John realized that it wasn’t an unpleasant sensation to hold her damaged skin, but different, unexpected. He let his fingers explore this side of her face as delicately as they did the other.
Viv trembled between his palms. She sniffled. She sighed.
“Every woman’s body is a landscape to explore, Viv,” John said, “May I explore yours?”
“Yes…,” her tiny voice held great trepidation.
John’s fingers moved across her flesh like they would any woman’s, with anticipation and delight at what they’d discover, at what sensations they’d elicit from her body. He knew at the first touch of her burn scars that Viv wasn’t really any different from his other women. He realized that his role was to help her believe that, too.
“I’m going to greet the goddess in you with my fingertips, OK?” And he slowly moved his hands down her jaw and along her neck, feeling the warmth and the vitality in her flesh, soft on one side, stiff, but just as alive, on the other.
Viv still held his organ in her hand almost absentmindedly. That was a good thing, indicating comfort with touching him. As he stroked along her skin her hands remembered to squeeze him and little bolts of electricity ran down his thighs.