Chapter 1: Meeting With the Doctor

It is late afternoon, roughly four miles from the Pacific Palisades and the surf at Malibu, under a cloudy, but non-rain threatening sky. A battered '85 Volvo serves sharply into a tight parking space, wedging itself firmly between a, much newer red BMW and a dark green Mercedes convertible.

A dark-haired man in his late forties lithely emerges from the noticeably physically abused vehicle, slamming the door shut behind him. Then, rather than walking away, the man takes a vicious kick at the car door, adding yet another dent to the heavily pockmarked Volvo. The strange thing is the man expresses no discernible anger and after examining the dent, calmly walks away from the vehicle.

No pretty boy, leading man here; his skin a weathered copper, with deep wrinkles around the eyes from a lifetime of squinting in the sun as he checked his wristwatch. His course black hair has started to thin; and his dark brown eyes crinkle as his mouth relaxes in a lazy grin as he confirms he is exactly on time for his appointment with Dr. Sharon Lamouerux at the Los Angeles Blood Work Center. He walks purposefully to the receptionist, smiles down at her and announces his name.

"Good morning, I'm Dutch Perry. I have a 9:45 appointment with Dr. Lamouerux."

The receptionist, whose name-tag reads "Beverly Smoots," coquetteishly returns the smile wondering what it was about this Mr. Perry that was causing her to become aroused. In turn, he weighed her look and summarily dismissed any thought of seducing her. Beverly stopped fidgeting with her bracelet for a moment to glance down at the appointment book and found his name listed there.

Looking up at him, she gave him the benefit of her professional smile and brightly chirped, "Yes, Mr. Perry, the doctor will be with you in a moment. Please have a seat."

Dutch settled into a comfortable chair, and took a moment to adjust himself aware that he was under the watchful eye of the receptionist; and telling himself that this was what waiting rooms were designed for, began to wait.

Dr. Lamouerux didn't keep him waiting, at exactly 9:45 the door to her office opened and a pert young nurse whose nametag read Cindy Rawlings called his name. Dutch got up and followed her into the Doctor's office. After the usual initial medical examination procedures, a woman of about 40, wearing glasses, came in and Cindy left. Dutch appraised the doctor as she turned away from him briefly. 'Man, ' he thought, 'she's a curvaceous little honey. Great ass and those small, but high-rising tits straining against the tight blouse have got to be real. But I think her legs are her best feature.' He was still devouring her with his eyes when she interrupted his thoughts.

"Good morning Mr. Perry, I'm Doctor Sharon Lamouerux," she said, adjusting her eyeglasses.

"I'm very pleased to meet you Doctor. Dutch Perry, please... call me Dutch, everyone else does."

"Fine, now... Dutch, tell me what is the problem?"

"Doctor, I lead a... very active, err... sex life and want... or probably need to be tested for STD's on a regular basis. I was hoping I could get all the essential testing done at one facility, preferably this one."

"Well, yes, we can certainly help you there," she said and he noted her voice had grown a little deeper, almost husky. "Please remove your clothes, you can use the hangers on the door here and I'll be back in a moment."

Dutch quickly peeled off his black T-shirt and removed his trousers. He wore no underwear.

There was a short knock on the door and he called out, "Come in, I'm ready."

Dr. Lamouerux entered and pulled on a pair of latex gloves before sitting on a stool next to him. Covertly, in the way women the world over do, she glanced at his bare chest. Studying it intently, as if she were counting the hairs on his chest; doing some version of a masculinity calculation known to women only. Taking a deep breath, she began to examine his genitals. Dutch wasn't sure, but got the impression the doctor was deciding whether to bed him or not. Then her professionalism took over and she began a more through examination.

"Do you have any reason to believe you've contracted any sexually transmitted diseases?" She asked.

"No, but I am very active sexually." He took a deep breath and said, "And one never knows."

"You're right. One never knows. Peel the foreskin back please."

He did as she asked and the doctor performed a through examination lasting about three minutes before saying, "You look all right, but we won't know anything for sure until the blood work is completed, so let's get on with that aspect, shall we?"

"Anything you say, Doc."

He realized he was getting an erection and as a male nurse (his true vocation) he knew how they were dealt with and awaited the sharp slap that was to come. But none did. He stared at the good-looking Doctor and discovered that she was seemingly entranced with his cock. Her hand was poised in midair, halfway to the tray containing the needles used for taking blood. Slowly, just as he released his breath, Dr. Lamouerux came out of her trance like state, reached out and began to fondle his testicles.

"You've a lovely cock," she said, her voice laden with lust. His cock continued to engorge. The expected slap never came. "So nice and fat."

She continued to fondle him, lightly squeezing his bulging member. "I see that your cock head is bullet-shaped and then thickens beyond that. It's most interesting and most unusual. How long is it?"

"A little over seven inches, Doc."

"Dutch, here in the office please call me Sharon if you like," and she gave him a Cheshire-like grin that signaled him that the good doctor wanted to suck his cock.

"You must satisfy a lot of women," she said releasing his pulsating member and licking her upper lip with a startling pink tongue. Then she turned her professional demeanor back on and said, "Well, the earliest I can get the results back will be tomorrow afternoon. I'm sorry about that, but that's out of my control."

Her sincerity rang true and Dutch also knowing the medical profession, tomorrow was really pushing it. He also knew she would be of help to him in other ways. Dutch smiled at her and said, "Doc... err, Sharon, tomorrow would be wonderful. Shall I drop by and pick up the results?"

Sharon's eyes remained on his still erect dick. "Normally we call the patient," she licked her lips again. "But since you're anxious to find out, why not drop by say, around three?"

"Three would be great," he replied and reached out and touched Sharon's face. "I certainly hope I'm in the clear."

She didn't pull away, but smiled at him.

"You probably are, but if not, well... we can certainly help you get back on track -- at least in most instances. You can get dressed now. Can you find your way out?"

"Sure I can. So," he said, as his eyes boldly roamed the doctor's lithe form, "tomorrow at three."

"Three," she smiled and turned to leave the examining room. And with a lingering look at the doctor's curvaceous rear as she left, Dutch reached for his shorts and got dressed.

Dutch had already planned the rest of his evening. He'd go directly home to his apartment, throw on a pornographic DVD; consume a six-pack to complete a relaxing evening. If tomorrow went as expected, he could start to play around again safely. He envisioned the teenaged hitchhiker who had triggered his need for a through examination, with her legs around his neck as he'd fucked her silly in the backseat of his battered Volvo. 'Great sex, but he knew nothing of her history and of course he hadn't had time to buy any condoms. Of course, the next women would require clearances before he went too far with them, ' he told himself.

Dutch approached his car and kicked the door before opening it and slipped onto the leather interior. He smiled as he thought of all the people in Los Angeles who puzzled over the many dents in his "Black Beauty." Actually it was a defensive driving technique he'd picked up in Paris several years earlier. With all the crazed drivers in La La Land, the battered condition of his car served to keep others away from him. This dramatically reduced the number of road rage combatants he encountered on L.A.'s Freeways. A more useful by-product was that the car's condition usually created open space for maneuvering in the morning traffic.

Pulling onto the 10 Freeway, Dutch's thoughts turned to Marilyn, his ex.

'Ah, Marilyn," he said to himself. "What a great fuck you were.' And his dick commenced to heat up. He recalled that she'd loved to get dressed; if one could call going braless and without panties dressed up; and how on arriving at a nightspot she'd wait patiently until some stranger eyed her from across the room. "Show -time, honey," she'd say and start crossing and uncrossing her beautiful legs until the guy got a hardon watching her. Later Dutch would join her in the game, running his hand under her skirt and up her thigh.

If Marilyn thought some guy was observing them she tended to spread her legs apart signaling him to finger her cunt. Of course, that served to get the two of them (not counting the voyeur) hotter than hell and they'd dance, Marilyn rubbing her cunt against his dick until they had to bolt for the car or he came on the dance floor. Once in a while she would masturbate herself knowing someone was staring right at her.

Dutch chuckled as he skillfully steered around a tractor-trailer. On several occasions they had both come on the dance floor. He fixed on the time she was pulling at his zipper as they made for his Volvo and she damn near tore his slacks off, ripping a long gash in the material. He hadn't noticed it at the time, wanting only to stick his dick in her snatch or have her wrap her lips around his thick, meaty rod.

Another memory drifted in as he increased his speed to 20 miles per hour over the limit. Shortly after marrying Marilyn, they were invited to attend her ex-boyfriend's engagement party. The guy, 'the fuck was his name?' Dutch wondered. 'Earl! That was it. Earl, a nice enough guy whose lady already had that well fucked-look when they'd arrived.' Twenty minutes later he'd been urged to dance with her by Marilyn and she'd moved in tightly to him and whispered, "Marilyn seems like such a nice girl. I really like her." Dutch had pushed his rising boner into her and caused her to giggle. "Yeah," he replied, "she is a very nice girl."

"Well what I don't understand," she'd said, throwing her cunt right into his boner, "is how she let Earl get away. I mean with his ten-inch cock and all." Dutch's surprise at her mentioning Earl's cock size paled as her hand drifted down along his thigh and squeezed his cock.

"We might be able to arrange a four-some some time," she'd said. "But it would have to be after we get married." The dance ended and they had returned to their partners.

Mechanically, Dutch turned off at his exit and mused about that night. He'd told Marilyn of the offer and learned that good old Earl had been groping Marilyn's cunt through her dress. It seemed he'd also mentioned all of them getting together, only he wanted to set it up for later that evening.

"What do you think?" Dutch had asked her.

"No fucking way!"

"Fine with me," he'd replied and said no more. That of course prompted Marilyn to open up. "That fucking bastard has a ten inch schlong on him."

"So I've been told."

"I never told you..." And it hit her. "That bitch!" She spat out, "That two-bit whore!" Marilyn started to laugh. "Let's get out of here. I want to suck your cock, not his."

Five minutes later, in the front seat of his Volvo she was gobbling him down the deepest part of her throat. After he'd blown his tubes and she'd had time to digest her mini-meal, Marilyn had confessed that Earl, although well-endowed, didn't use his gift properly, instead of letting the woman grow accustomed to his length, he'd plowed right up to their cervix, causing more pain and discomfort than pleasure.

'Marilyn, oh Marilyn, what a piece of ass you were, ' he thought as he pulled into his two-car garage. 'It's such a shame we split up.' He resolved to give her a call in a day or so, maybe she'd want to get laid for old time's sake.

He chuckled again. 'More than likely, ' he thought.

The next day at 2:45, Dutch parked his pummeled Volvo in the same space as he had the day before and strode confidently into the reception area. The receptionist was not there and the door to the doctor's office was slightly ajar. Silently he crossed the room until he stood at the threshold of the door to the examining room, listening for any sounds within. It was quiet, but then, staining to hear the slightest sound, he heard it, a soft rustling noise. Cautiously, he edged the door open an inch at a time until he was able to see a quarter of the room. Nervously he glanced over his shoulder. 'It wouldn't look right to be discovered peeping into the doctor's office, ' he told himself, and set a mental alarm against being caught at the door. Only when he was positive no one was about did he risk a covert look into the examining room. He spied a woman. 'The nurse, what the fuck was her name?' Dutch struggled to recall it. 'Candy? No... Cindy? Yeah, Cindy or something like that.'

Cindy had her arms around the shoulders of Doctor Sharon, hugging her close. Both women were nude.

"Don't! Please not now, Cindy. I've got a patient coming any minute."

"Can't stop Sharon, I'm coming... Right NOW!" The nurse sobbed as she brushed her lips over the doctor's ample breasts just before she puled away from Cindy's pursed lips.

"Hello?" Dutch called out, having backed a few feet away from the door.

"Just a moment, Mr. Perry, Sharon called out. "I'll be right with you." And in a soft whisper, she scolded Cindy. "Compose yourself. Show him in and then don't disturb us, understand?"

"But... I..."

"Cindy! Do you understand?" The fury in her voice surprised Dutch.

"Yes, Doctor. I understand fully," the nurse said, quickly relenting. But her voice conveyed a hatred that she managed to hide when she came out to Dutch and with a plastic smile, ushered him into the examining room where Dr. Lamouerux was waiting.

"You're exactly on time Mr. Perry."

"I try to be punctual Doctor, especially when I know I won't be kept waiting." He took in the grayish business suit and white blouse she wore. 'The woman knew how to dress, ' he thought.

Chapter 2 »