He felt her trembling. And the doctor’s hands massaged his back.
“The goddess manifests in infinite guises,” whispered Dr. Wright, “She is you, Viv, right now and she always has been.”
John held the small woman’s shoulders in his hands, felt their angles and the delicacy of her feminine bones under the flesh. He could tell she was tense. As his hands slowly descended her arms she quivered.
“May I touch your breasts?” John asked, pausing his fingertips on her slim biceps. So slim were they that he could have encircled them entirely with his hand. He heard a long intake of breath.
“Please,” she whispered.
He trailed his fingers across her arms until they found the swell of breast flesh. Gently, he traced their curves down and around to lift them in his palms. One felt as full, warm and heavy as any woman’s, bigger than he’d thought they’d be. The other was different, with a thinner parchment of skin and full, too, but stiffer. Just as warm, but clearly to his touch a reconstruction, like the few boob jobs he’d encountered among his cougars. Probably the kind of thing only an experienced pair of hands would notice.
He treated them equally. He wanted to ask if sensations were different in the grafted skin, but figured it would be best to simply accept what he could feel and gauge her responses to his touch as an answer to that question.
John eased his thumbs across her areola, the nipple spongy and stiffening on one, less responsive on the other. The woman’s breath fluttered as his fingers stroked. He cupped each breast, then took a nipple between each thumb and forefinger, pinching gently until the woman whimpered.
“Let me know what’s too hard.”
“OK, not yet…” she breathed as he rolled the spongy flesh and pulled. “Right like that…” she gasped.
John repeated the cradling, rubbing, pinching and pulling slowly and he felt her arousal grow in the warmth of her skin, in the quivering of her body, the quickening of her breath.
“May I take your nipples in my mouth?”
“Oh my God, yes,” she sighed.
“Will you take my pants off for me?” He asked and stepped back from her.
The small woman pulled at the open clothing with some haste now. She bent to push them to the floor and he imagined her face inches from his hungry cock. Did she want to take him in her mouth? Or was such a big organ scary? Was she pausing to look at his cock eye-to-eye and thinking about tasting him or averting her eyes? John imagined her breasts swinging low as she bent at his feet. He stepped out of his clothing and kicked it away.
Vivian stood and reached for his face. Her hands did what his had done to hers – cupped his cheeks and held him.
“I’m ready,” she said and pulled his face down to her breast, the ‘normal’ one. John sank to his knees on the rug and he felt Dr. Wright move to stand behind the woman. He took the offered nipple and pinched it between his lips, using his tongue tip to caress the bumpy nub. His hands rested on her flared, bony hips where they encountered the waistband of what felt like a heavy wool skirt. The parchment skin continued down one side of her body.
Vivian sighed and leaned into his caresses. His cock wagged forgotten between them. Slowly he pulled more of the breast into his mouth, sucking in the swollen flesh. Her areola’s knobby flesh slipped past his lips and he sucked until his mouth filled with teat. Then he swallowed, working his tongue under the warm, wet skin as she clutched at the back of his head, holding him tight to her.
She growled, “Unnnnggghhh,” her fingers sinking into his curly hair, holding him against her breast.
Dr. Wright said, “Tell him how it feels.”
The woman breathed deep, thought a minute while he suckled, then said, “I forgot how good…he’s making me weak…making me wet.”
“Tell him,” prompted the doctor.
“John…John, you’re making me weak in the knees.”
“Tell him what you want, what you like.”
“Pull off my skirt.”
John released her breast and eased lower, curled his fingers in the waistband of the skirt and pulled down. The elastic stretched over her hips. The garment slid to the floor. The room filled with her musky scent, the woman clearly aroused.
“It’s been so long…” she sighed.
John moved his hands to her backside, feeling his way slowly around to get handfuls of cheek, hugged in a silky pair of panties. He pressed his face into her panty-covered mons and breathed deep, blowing hot breath into her flesh. Vivian moved her feet apart and moaned.
“Tell him…”
“Panties…take off my panties, John.” Vivian trembled as his fingers dragged the silky cloth down her thighs. He used his nails to trace her legs all the way to her ankles, one leg velvety and warm, the other of parchment but still warm, still sensitive to touch. He picked up one foot and then the other and tossed the skirt and panties away with his jeans. John reached with his tongue and found the warm skin of a leg. Sliding his hands up again he found the crease under her ass and encircled her thin legs in his large hands. He could nearly touch finger to thumb. He pulled her forward until his seeking tongue met her delta.
“Oh, Jesus,” she quavered.
John probed into smooth and wet flesh. She was shaved completely bare as far as he could tell. There was no wounded flesh between her legs, just a thick musk and the heat of her arousal. Her legs trembled when he thrust his tongue deep between her swollen labia. She tasted intensely bittersweet, thick with her juices. He nuzzled and licked, making a slow exploration around her clit, teasing her.
“Ohhh, Jesus…” she pressed her hips forward and eased her legs further apart. She dug her fingers in his hair.
Dr. Wright asked, “May I touch your breasts?”
“Mmm, hmmm,” the woman sighed. John suspected this wasn’t the first time the women had been intimate. Probably the doctor’d begun the process of getting Vivian over her fear of sex with the application of her own therapy. That was her style – very hands-on.
John felt Vivian arch back against the black woman and heard them kissing. His cock ached for attention. But he knew that slow and steady was the path to follow. He reminded himself that he was practically a pro at this. At least a very accomplished amateur. Self-taught, mostly. He and the doctor seemed to be having a very therapeutic effect on patient X, anyway.
“Can we try that outercourse you suggested, doctor,” Vivian said, pulling John’s mouth from her sex.
“Outercourse?” he said, easing back on his haunches.
“Technically it’s anything that’s not intercourse,” explained the doctor, “but what I’m advising, as a preliminary to intercourse, is…well, let me guide you.”
She put a hand on his shoulder, “Stand very solid right where you are, John.” His cock stood proud, too.
“Viv, step closer and hold his upper arms.” He felt her small hands grip him. His cock head slid across some warm part of the woman. It sent a jolt through him.
“John, bend your knees just a bit,” Joyce said and a hand took his shaft and pressed downward. “Oh! One other thing…just a sec.”
He sensed the doctor stepping away, but she was back in a moment and a wet, warm hand grasped his cock. She slathered his organ with the lube he knew so well from their Friday sessions. The sensation of her working the lube along his length brought him to full tumescence. He throbbed in her hand. The doctor may have stroked him a bit longer than was strictly necessary to get him ready.