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Below is part three of my sex life coaching client Rachel's erotica on her adult doctor-playing scene with her husband Oram. For those who didn't read part one, and part two, I advised Rachel on how to create her scene so her husband, a newcomer to scene play in sex, would have a great first time.

“Wider please,” spoken as she taps, then pushes at the
inside of his thighs, insisting he move his knees apart a bit more. With width
comes the necessary space to work between his ass cheeks.

She stands out of his sight, removes her coat and retrieves
the Aneros Prostate Massager and the lubrication from the tray. Behind him now, where he can’t see
her (as long as he maintains the requested position) she tosses the coat onto
the bed and into his line of sight. He knows she is exposed. His rear cheeks tense
and release in acknowledgement, as a fine mist of perspiration covers his
skin.

The soft, squishy noises of lube being rubbed by the doctor
over her hands, over her tool, seem amplified in the quiet of the room.  Then, before the prostate massage begins,
and using a slightly patronizing tone, she provides him a small amount of
praise on the excellent state of his healthy, clean anus, a true beauty.    

His only reply, delivered in a soft and shaky voice, “Come
on, come on, you're killing me sweetie,” is a little disrespectful, but she can
smile big and let it slide, as he can’t see her expression.

Now begins Dr. Smith’s running commentary on the procedure, detailing
each action before it is taken.  And, oh,
what a powerfully erotic moment for the doctor, as she finally reaches to stroke
a slick finger around the puckered opening. The generous amount of lube allows
for a sensual glide, and draws a grunt and quick intake of air from the
patients other end.

The Aneros follows after her fingers have lubed him inside
and out, the smooth white tool creating pleasure for him as she slowly circles
the tip over the nerve ends there, and then slides it in easily.

“Now sir, my goal is to create a rhythm that presses the
Aneros deep and steady against your prostate, and we’ll be patient and
persistent together, and watch what happens. “ As she proceeds, the doctor
rattles off a few facts about prostate health for good measure. She’s fairly
certain he didn’t hear a word of it.

How easy it became to settle into the sensual flow started
with a slow up and down motion as her right hand worked the tool in his ass, carried,
as his torso made a slight front to back movement and his back arched up a bit
as his abdomen tensed.  This drew her
left hand to his upper thigh at the underside of his buttock, circling lightly
over his fuzz there, completing the flow.

Between his legs, beyond his ball sack, I watched, forever
it seemed, as his cock bobbed, dusky red and extended stiffly. It drew me away,
ready or not, from the role I was playing. The doctor drifted away as my hand
reached to stroke along his shaft’s length. 

Several minutes more and his moans began in earnest, his
hands grabbed and held the mussed sheet with greater urgency, and I watched,
fascinated, as the thin, silky line of prostate fluid oozed off the tip of his
glans towards the bed. I had never seen it like this before. It was so hot. Like the male version of getting soaked like I do! In my fascinated
distraction, I fumbled with the Aneros, letting it get ejected from his rear.

That did it. The taught rubber band of new experiences and sexual
tension snapped with the unexpected jolt of my tool dropping to the bed. And
since the patient probably left when the doctor did, we found ourselves alone,
once again in the hotel room, finishing the scene as two hot and bothered hotel
guests would.

“I’m done, Rachel. I’m just done.... Get your hot ass up here!”

I imagined me still as the hot woman doctor whose patient just lost it and is taking her in her office. Waiting room and reception staff outside and all. I flopped on the
bed with my legs hanging over the side, as he moved off and stood in front of
me. I sighed, and with my forearm resting over my eyes, took a big breath. Had
I been holding it? Maybe, and as the tension drained from me, he was making
quick work of the garters and panties, then proceeding to run light fingers all
over the silky fun of my thigh-highs. I laughed softly, and with a grin in his
voice he responded by making me promise to incorporate the stockings outside of
my medical practice. A nod was I’ll I could muster.

And then I remember his mouth moving over all my sweet,
moist parts, creating new spots of moisture and heat on places where it was not
usually so, where he knows I like his soft lips and hot breath, then teeth, and
finally soothing swipes of wet tongue.  In
the process, he included a few lucky fingers from the hand not attached to the arm
still lying over my eyes. Of
course his travels brought him to my protruding nipples before his mouth finally
danced attendance on my hip bones and belly, finishing me off with even
repetitive oral pressure on my clit. It was a quick burst of an orgasm, as I
felt easy, even wanton, lying there with only my lose stockings left on, my heeled
sandals digging into his shoulders as he knelt on the floor in front of me at
the edge of the bed.  I was well and truly sated, and any energy I had left was
dissipating fast with the pinging after-pulses in my pussy. He had just sucked
and licked everything away, so the finale, for him, would be a simple, fast and
hard fuck.

After I was moved and settled, belly down, on the low “exam”
bench, I indicated the condom on the tray, conveniently left there by the
doctor. He grabbed and ripped at it before executing an expert, one handed
application over his hard-as-steel dick, leaving his other hand to play in the
folds of my pussy, exploring for his own benefit, rather than my arousal. Holding
himself over me, with hands braced at the edges of the bench’s sides, only our
sex parts making contact, he allowed himself the luxury of speed and lots of
loud, throaty noises working up to his thick release deep inside me. Poor baby, it had been more
than 45 minutes of an up and down hardon for him.

And really, as straight forward as the final act was, I
would guess that it was a better than average come for him. And he reminded me,
as we enjoyed the mental drift and hushed talk before our afternoon nap, how
the kind of release after a lot of stopping and starting, fairly new to our sex
a la Mr. Amaranth's teaching, can be the best. Like the complete decadence of a seven layer
chocolate cake, I thought, compared to the simple pleasure of a chocolate chip
cookie.

“So do you think that you’ll take advantage of the doctor’s
services again?” I asked.

“Yeah, we should do that again,” he said, with little-boy
enthusiasm.

Good.

I didn’t tell him
that I had several other procedures to try with him, left out today, several
other things I had planned but failed to execute, lines in the script that had
been left unsaid. After all, when someone admires your work, its poor taste to
point out all the flaws that you know are there.

-Fin

[i]For those new to my blog: I write on my and others' sex life, in erotica form, because many of us need only read of an example of what really is possible. It so often lights a desire to "Want to do that. Feel that." A want to learn how to have better sex through sex advice and sex education, maybe for the first time in their lives. I also intend to present to my readers the reality of great sex at any level of sophistication. I'm referred by a sex therapist sometimes, but I don't do sex therapy. I'm a sex life consultant. I teach and I do.[/i]
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