My experience of sex backfiring came from my time as a nurse in the psychiatric ward of the hospital of Xxxx Xxxxxxx. I'd been working in an institutional ward for three years on a more or less permanent basis, earning good extra money besides what the government allowed me to finance my studies. To get to the point, we had a female patient, we can call her A for short, with an as of yet, undefined hysterical disorder. She would start screaming and throwing things about whether she was provoked or not and on this particular day a man with pretty much the same diagnose, got in her way.
He had recently lost both his testicles to cancer and was depressed as well as in a particularly foul mood and directed it towards all the women he thought he could no longer please. A was the victim he'd sought out for himself on this particular day. We all suddenly heard a huge crash, yelling, more crashes and a holler of pain. As we arrived on the scene A was bashing the poor man with a plastic chair, yelling "I AM NOT STU PID", over and over, the chair coming down on every syllable, while he was on the floor writhing in obvious agony and bleeding profusely from somewhere in the crotch. It later turned out that she'd kicked him in, well, I can't say nuts, can I. She'd given him a fairly good kick in the cock and, getting a toe in, actually managed to rupture his glans with a perfect hit. He was carted off to the ER and I was assigned to try and calm A down. We went to her room and she said she wanted to change. I thought she meant a shirt or pants, but no.
She stripped down completely and took her good time rummaging through her closet before "finding" the ugly, blue hospital robe that was one of only three garments inside. She turned her head and smiled a shy smile at me several times and I was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. She'd gone from total hysteria to a little girl in two seconds flat and was now not only showing her nakedness, she was flaunting it. She had a body to die for. She was twenty-five with a few extra pounds in just the right places. Two of the firmest C-cup breasts I've ever seen. Rounded buttocks with a few stretch marks, broad, firm thighs and a pronounced mound with a very big bush that went nearly from hip to hip. She finally draped the robe over her still naked body and I came out of my daze very quickly, wondering where the hell I'd been. A suggested we go to the smaller of the day rooms where we usually have our therapy sessions. We went into the room and locked the door, as is customary when in session. We chatted mostly and A was sitting in a lounge chair, facing the window with her back to one arm rest and her legs draped over the other. After about 15 minutes she closed her eyes and started panting with her mouth open I looked at her and she's was sitting absolutely still with her hands motionless in her lap.
I slapped myself for having such a filthy mind and asked if she was feeling well. Her face suddenly contorted and she started breathing so hard saliva was spraying between her clenched teeth. I thought she was having an epileptic fit of some sort and rushed up to get help. As I ran past her chair to press the alarm button she grabbed my sleeve and nearly pulled me off my feet. I had to grab her shoulders not to fall across her. With my hands still on her shoulders, she rose to her feet and stood in front of me. She had a silly look on her face and said the two words I least expected to hear from her in that moment: -I came. She put her arms around my neck and we just stood like that for at least five minutes. Hugging is a natural part of therapeutic contact, but I think very rarely coupled with orgasmic afterglow. I did not reciprocate at first, but put my hands on her sides above her hips, a bit bewildered and very uncertain as how to deal with a patient who had spontaneous orgasms when in session.
I began to notice my body's response to all this. That prickly feeling of something forbidden, alluring, but still somewhere within my grasp, was making itself known at the nape of my neck, moving down my spine and settling in my crotch. As we stood there A moved back a bit and looked into my eyes and I tried to act as casual and professional as I could. I must have failed miserably somewhere, because A took my hands and placed them on her breasts! And there they stayed. My hands were riveted to her breasts and my professional resolve snapped, almost audibly, like a twig under foot. We just stood like that until she started to move her hands over mine, squeezing my hands squeezing her breasts, tickling my palms with her rock hard nipples. It was a moment so erotic that it compared to nothing, absolutely nothing, that I've experienced before or after. Suddenly she raised her left leg and rested it on my hip, raised her frock a few inches and took my right hand and placed it on her naked sex. I remember resisting a bit, trying to withdraw but she had my wrist in a firm grip and kept it there. I couldn't move any more. She looked me in the eyes - Feel how wet I am, she whispered.
I felt the heat radiate from her pussy but still didn't move. There was something slippery down there and I could feel the outline of her labia pressing on my fingers. -You're not feeling me properly, she said and once again my hand was covered by hers as she pressed it inwards, curving her fingers and thus forcing two of mine into her vagina. The word wet in this particular case would have been a gross understatement. As she slowly moved my hand back and forth there was this sound that reminded me of squeezing a soaked sponge and my hand was covered in warm liquid. She removed her hand and mine stayed and moved by it's own accord. She brought her hand to her nose and sniffed it and then put it under mine. It was as intoxicating as anything I've ever smelled. I grabbed her by the wrist and licked her fingers, still looking into her eyes as she closed them and bit her lower lip. She leant forward and we kissed for the first time. I felt her hand trace my belly to my pants and her efforts, trying to unclasp my belt. I didn't want to get caught with my pants down, so I said, -Wait, and opened my fly instead. I always wear lose fitting clothes, both for mobility and to hide my girth and for her to get her hand down my into my pants and the my panties, was no problem. I was as wet as she by now. We stood like that; frantically rubbing each other feeling each other's soaked cunts, delving as deeply as we could into one another's mouths and vaginas. We were both on the verge of climaxing when we were interrupted by sounds outside the door. People were coming into the workshop outside the room. We quickly adjusted our clothes and opened the window. The air was so thick with the smell of sex, you could cut it with a knife. We closed it again and walked out. The only place left for us was her room, which couldn't be locked. Had she been allowed outside that day, we would have made it to the basement where there's hundreds of places we could have used, but that was not to be. So we opted not to continue at this time. I excused myself and went to the loo and frigged myself to an earth shattering orgasm within a few flicks. Once finished I went to A's room and found her on her bed.
-Did you... ? She asked.
-Yes, I said.
-So did I. She pulled her frock up to show me what a freshly fingerfucked pussy looked like and it was a sight to behold! I was drooling, well my cunt was, despite of having been taken care of two minutes earlier. She had large, pink inner lips that stuck out and were VERY long. They ran from her asshole, halfway to her navel and at the bottom I could see something inside her hole. I asked her and she reached down and pulled out a small bottle of roll-on deodorant. I'm sure you know the kind. It's very phallic in shape.
Glistening strings formed and broke as she slowly pulled it out; brought it to her mouth; sucked on it and then put it back in.
-You try it, she said. With trembling fingers I tried to grab the slippery bottle between my fingers, finally managed, pulled it out, sucked on it and put it back in again. I quickly bent down to steal a few licks. She looked down at me and gasped aloud. She pulled the bottle out once more, licked it clean and put it on the dresser beside the bed. I once again bent down and stuck my tongue as far up her as it would go. It was very hard not to stay down there. She sat up and kissed me once again and we shared her juices. She grabbed my hands and smelled them, complaining that all she could smell was soap. I opened my fly, shoved three finger into my cunt and brought them out webbed and put them in her mouth. She sucked them like a baby calf, laid down and spread her legs wide, took my hand and placed it on her pussy. I shoved another three fingers up her soaking quim and started fucking her as fast as I could. She didn't last long and came silently but violently shaking. Unfortunately I never thought to get my fingers out of her mouth until I felt her teeth. They cut deeply into my flesh, deep enough to draw blood. Lots of blood. I hollered with pain and moments later I heard approaching footsteps in the corridor. When the door opened I was holding my hand under my arm, swearing like a sailor. A was on the bed, her frock down again and watching me in horror, white as her sheets.
I told the approaching crowd I'd got my fingers caught, trying to adjust her bed to a sitting position. They all felt very sorry for me and sent me off to ER without looking at my hand, thank God. In the ER I changed my story as I figured the bite marks would be a dead giveaway. I just said one of the patients got violent and bit me and I hoped none would be the wiser. I got away with a tetanus shot and a bandaged hand. I took the rest of the day off with pay after writing the accident report. Those beds really are notoriously dangerous and people have had their fingers cut clean off by them, so no one questioned my explanation of events. I was home for two weeks, still with pay, while the routine Hepatitis C and HIV-tests were being done.
One morning a few days later, I got a call. It was A. I asked her how she got my number.
- From the directory, she answered. Figures, I thought. She knew my full name and I was listed as opposed to most of my colleagues. Working in psychiatry makes you vulnerable to attacks from any patient with a beef. I've had my ribs kicked in three times and broken one patient's arm myself. All in the line of duty, of course. But I digress, methinks. A called to ask me about my hand and to tell me that she'd been transferred to outpatient status and wondered if we could meet. I was hesitant, to say the least, but she was persistent and we made an appointment for Saturday.
The before mentioned events took place on a Tuesday, if memory serves me right and A called me on the Friday. In other words I had a whole two days of nail biting anxiety, not knowing whether I had been ratted out or not. As I said, we agreed to meet in her apartment a few miles uptown. It was a collection of high-rises, nine stories high and part of the so called "The Million Project" It's from the sixties when the Swedish population boomed and our socialist government promised to build a million cheap apartments to house us all. Swedes were celebrating the freedom of mind and sex and generally boffing away, much earlier than the rest the world. Hence the expression "The Swedish Sin". The only competition came from the Germans and Danes, whose decadence flourishes even today.
A lived on the ninth floor and when she opened the door, she was dressed in a sort of terry-cloth mah-jongg overall. She was as nervous as I was and nervousness usually comes into play only when feeling are involved. She closed the door and we just stood there looking at each other. Then we hugged and shared a long kiss that had us both gasping and wanting more. We covered each other's faces with saliva as we licked, kissed and explored each other's mouths. We finally broke the kiss and she showed me around the apartment. Two rooms and a nice kitchen. Her bedroom was decorated in the romantic style you sometimes find in teenagers rooms with lots of pink and orange. The only difference between her room and lets say, my youngest sisters, were the six dildos of various shapes, sizes and colours standing to attention on her bedside table. She giggled shyly as she saw my eyes widen. I walked across the room and sat down on her bed, touching each of them in turn. Two were with vibration the other four were of a nice, jelly-like material and ranged from about six to 20 inches. I weighed a fifteen-inch cock in my hand and asked her if she could get that inside her and she nodded. It was about three inches thick and I had my doubts about it. The 20 incher was a double. Ten inches on each side of a rudimentary scrotum that could be filled with warm water and squeezed at the height of your pleasure to simulate some sort of simultaneous orgasm, she explained. Absolutely ridiculous, if you ask me. Next she showed me the kitchen and told me dinner was on in 15 minutes. She served a plaice au gratin that was a bit overdone and under salted, with broccoli, mushrooms and rice. It was a nice meal and the white wine that went with it, loosened any inhibitions we might have had. After the meal we settled in her living room, chatting about this and that and that she was feeling much, much better now, that she'd cut down on her medication after being advised by her psychiatrist and that she hadn't met anyone like me ever and that she so liked me and wanted me and adored my body and she'd like to see it sometime. Why not now, I asked? She said nothing, just leaned forward, kissed me deeply for the second time and left. I asked her where she was going and she answered with only one whispered word: -Surprise.
She closed the door and I was left alone with my anticipations of things to come. I played with my nipples for a while and ventured briefly under my skirt. I wasn't wearing any underwear or a bra, since I figured I wouldn't need them. Idle thoughts were forming about A, that maybe I was mistaken, as I slowly stroked my larger lips. I was very soon very, very wet and had one, two and finally three fingers sliding in and out of me, all hesitation gone. I was stopped in my tracks as I heard loud clanging sounds followed by more silence. My skirt had a large wet spot on the back and my juices had soaked through to the sofa beneath. The light grey cloth now had a dark grey stain. I was mortified and covered it up with a pillow, which looked ridiculous, as it lay prone on the edge of the cushion.
A knocked on the door after about 20 minutes, startling me to my feet. The door slowly opened and in came A, stark naked and with her beautiful, long hair in a single braid. I just stared at her with my mouth open and I could feel my pussy spasm in time with my accelerating breath. I could also feel those spasms pressing liquid out of my vagina; liquid that ran down my thigh, down my calves and heels and into my sandals. She walked up to me without a word and started to undress me as well.
-Not much work here, she giggled, as I stood naked before her with only a blouse and my skirt at my feet. My state of arousal became obvious to her as I stepped out of my sandals. She knelt before me and had herself a good look at my cunt. She slowly wiped some of the juices off my right leg with her finger and brought it to her mouth. -That's the second time I taste your pussy, she said. -But I like it best from the source! And with that she stuck out her tongue and in between my cunt lips and I spread my legs as best I could in that awkward position. She found my clit and sucked on it for a while until my legs began to tremble then she suddenly stopped just as I was about to climax. -Not yet she whispered into my cunt and pulled away. There were several transparent strings connecting us and slowly breaking, dangling from her chin and my cunt and slowly falling to the floor. I tried to get her to continue, saying that I could have as many orgasms as I or she wanted, but she was adamant. -The water's getting cold she said, stood and led me by the hand to the bathroom.
As she opened the door I saw that she'd gone out of her way to impress me. Around fifty candles were standing on and around a bubble bath. Steam fogged up my glasses and I took them off. A told me to get in and I did, careful not to get the bandages wet, relishing the feel of the hot water, the tickling of millions of bubbles bursting on my skin and savouring the air filled with the fragrance of scented oils. I felt like an oriental queen.
A came next and she was a sight to behold in the light of the candles. As she ever so slowly descended into the water, straddling my legs, with her beautiful tush between my feet, it became very obvious that she'd been overly generous with the water.
The bathroom was flooded before either of us thought to pull the plug. She scooted closer and put her arms around my neck and kissed me for the third time. This kiss lasted longer than the other two and by the time it ended, we were both fingering the other deeply and frantically. She was no less wet than I was and came long before I did. In fact she stopped when her orgasm hit and didn't resume her caresses. I started fingering myself and she just pulled my hand away. She needed both her hands to keep it from going back and I cursed my bad luck of having my other hand wrapped.
- Not yet, she said.
- But I really, really, really need to cum right now!!
- No you don't, she said with a sly smile. I was borderline frantic at this point.
She started talking about Tuesday's events and asked me if I remembered her first orgasm when we were in session?
- How could I forget, I said, sulking. She told me that she could cum just by contracting and relaxing her vaginal muscles, a talent that she said had served her well on many a boring occasion.
- Yeah, rub it in, I griped. She didn't even need to use her hands and here I was, being denied the use of my own.
- Soon, she said, soon. I just lay back, trying hard to think of something else besides my poor neglected cunt and of course failing miserably. At this point A started washing me with a cloth, rubbing my whole body from head to toe, not missing a single spot. The cloth felt almost painful on my agitated cunt and I jumped every time she brushed over my lips and clit, which now stuck out like a small cock.
- I'm going to enjoy sucking on that she said, pulling the hood back and forth like she was jacking me off.
- Please feel free, I said, my voice trailing away. I was about to explode and my pelvis was soon a blur against her fingers and the water was spilling over the sides and suddenly it happened: An orgasm out of nowhere, without warning, hit me like a ton of bricks and sent me screaming under the water while I kicked A in the chest. I came up, coughing and still screaming, grabbing her by the wrist, trying to force her inside me. She straightened her fingers and in the next moment there were four in my cunt. I fucked myself through the throes of one of the best orgasms of my life, using her hand as a dildo. As I came down, A was looking at me with a quizzical expression. - Well, I should have expected that and left you alone, I guess, she said, rubbing her left tit where my foot had left its mark. I chided her in turn about what happens when you play with fire. We got out of the tub and A got the mop and started on the floor while I dried both her and myself. Once finished, we went to the bedroom and watched the steam rise off our bodies. I was propped up on one elbow trailing my fingers along her body, feeling the rounded curves of her breasts, belly, cheeks, and mound, entwining them in her pubes. - Would you like to shave me, she asked. - I've never done it and I would never trust anyone but you to do it. So I put her on one of the kitchen chairs, got her razor, scissors and some gel. Ten minutes later her cunt was as bare as the day she was born and I put some aloe cream on it, taking my good time rubbing it in very carefully. I kept rubbing long after the cream was replaced by her juices and her breathing was getting ragged.