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Dutch & Doctor Lamouerux
This is a repost of my most successful novel to date, originally written in 2002 and reedited in late 2010. It is the story of a couple, Dutch and Rosa; a daughter, Kathy, and their friends who, over time combine and become the Gathering. I think it turned out rather well . . . do you?
It was late afternoon under a cloudy, but non-rain threatening sky, roughly four miles from the Pacific Palisades and the surf at Malibu. A battered ’85 Volvo served 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 emerged from the noticeably physically abused vehicle, slamming the door shut behind him. Then, rather than walking away, the man took a vicious kick at the car door, adding yet another dent to the heavily pockmarked Volvo. The odd thing was the man expressed no discernible anger, and after examining the dent, calmly walked away from the vehicle.
This was no pretty boy or leading man here; his skin was a weathered copper, with deep wrinkles around the eyes from a lifetime of squinting into the sun. His course black hair has started to thin; and his dark brown eyes crinkled as he glanced at his wristwatch. His mouth relaxed in a lazy grin as he confirmed he was exactly on time for his appointment with Dr. Sharon Lamouerux at the Los Angeles Blood Work Center. He walked purposefully to the receptionist, smiled down at her and announced his name.
“Good morning, I’m Dutch Perry. I have a 9:45 appointment with Dr. Lamouerux.”
The receptionist, whose name-tag read ‘Beverly Smoots’, coquettishly returned the smile, and fidgeted with her bracelet while 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 aware that he was under the watchful eye of the receptionist, took a moment to adjust his crotch. He reminded himself that waiting rooms were just that — waiting rooms — and settled in 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 large framed 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 her 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 . . . um, very active sex life. I 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. She handed him a small packet of cloth, saying, “Here’s one of our smocks. Please remove your clothing. You can use the hangers on the door here. I’ll be back in a moment.”
Dutch quickly peeled off his black T-shirt and removed his trousers. He wore no underwear. He put on the smock a moment before the doctor knocked on the door. “Come in, I’m ready,” he replied quickly. Dr. Lamouerux entered, pulled on a pair of latex gloves then sat 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.
“Stand up, please, Mr. Perry.” 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 yabancı escort 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. When none came 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. “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.”
“”Ill tell you what, Mr. Perry. Here in the office I’ll call you Dutch if you’ll call me Sharon.” She gave him a Cheshire—like grin that told him 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, knowing the medical profession realized that getting the results the following day was really pushing it. He also knew she could 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, but you seem anxious to learn the results . . . why not drop by say, around three?”
“Three would be great,” he replied then reached out and touched the doctor’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, he told himself, but I’d known nothing of her history and of course hadn’t had time to buy any condoms. Well, the next woman would require clearances before I go too far with her. “Yeah, right!” he said aloud, and then laughed.
Dutch approached his car, kicking the door before opening it and slipping into the leather interior. He smiled as he thought of all the people in Los Angeles who had expressed puzzlement 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; 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 yeni escort (not counting the voyeur) hotter than hell, and they’d get out on the dance floor with 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 at their table, knowing someone was staring right at her.
Dutch chuckled as he skillfully steered around a tractor-trailer, recalling that on several occasions they had both come on the dance floor. He fixed on the time she was pulling at his fly as they made for his Volvo, and she nearly tore his slacks off; ripping a long gash in the material. He hadn’t noticed it in the heat of the moment; 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, Marilyn had urged him to dance with her. The girl had moved in tightly against him and whispered, “Marilyn seems like such a nice girl. I really like her.” He recalled pushing his rising boner into her and causing her to giggle. “Yeah,” he had replied, “she’s a very nice girl.”
But what followed had severely eroded his marriage with Marilyn. “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 remembered his surprise at the mention of Earl’s cock size.
The girl had gripped his cock and said, “We might be able to arrange a four-some some time, but it would have to be after we get married.” Then the dance ended and they 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’d 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.” (Pic available on request.)
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 he had the day before, and strode confidently into the reception area. The receptionist was not there, but 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 and listened for any sounds within. It was quiet, but as he strained to hear the slightest sound, he heard a soft rustling noise. Cautiously, he edged the door open an inch at a time until he could 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 Lamouerux, 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 . . . NOW!” The nurse sobbed as Doctor Lamouerux shoved the other woman away and began to straighten out her smock.
“Hello?” Dutch called out, having backed a few feet away from the door.
“Just a moment, Mr. Perry, Doctor Lamouerux 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 yenibosna escort 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 with a fixed facial expression 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 beneath the medical smock. The woman knew how to dress, he thought.
“Thank you, Mr. Perry, you’re very kind.”
“Please, it’s Dutch.”
“And Sharon . . .”
“Of course, Sharon.”
“I have the report and your work up right here.”
“Anything I should be worried about?”
“Hmmm, please sit down, Dutch.”
He sat down in the chair, suddenly uneasy. “Oh, I’m sorry. I should have been more specific. I meant on the table here,” she gestured with her hand and he hopped up on the table, crinkling the paper underneath.
“Dutch, would you mind taking your penis out, please?”
“Sure,” he responded as he opened his fly and removed his cock, which was starting to swell. Doctor Lamouerux leaned close to him, and using two fingers, pried his penis all the way out of his trousers.
“Just as I thought,” she said.
Mildly alarmed, Dutch blurted, “What is it?”
Doctor Lamouerux smiled at him. “You’ve got a perfectly beautiful cock, with an extraordinary thick shaft.”
“Well . . . I . . .”
“No, no, Mr. Perry. Excuse me, I mean, Dutch. It is exceptional, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to suck it for a while.”
Surprised and obviously relieved, Dutch replied, “Be my guest, Doc . . . I mean Sharon.”
But Sharon didn’t hear him; she was already kissing and licking the bullet-shaped knob of his fully engorged cock.
His cock twitched in Sharon’s mouth. Gently, she eased it from between her lips and asked, “Is it trying to tell me something with all that twitching and jumping, Dutch?” (Pic available on request.)
Deciding to get busy himself, Dutch opened the highest buttons on her blouse and reached inside to caress her bra encased breasts. Sharon moaned loudly and Dutch realized Cindy could hear and probably see everything going on. ‘Fuck it,’ he decided after a moment’s hesitation and plopped Sharon’s right tit from her bra. It was a delightfully cone-shaped tit with a large puffy nipple that looked exactly like a strawberry. He said nothing, but twisted her puffed up bud, causing her to gasp with pain.
“Mmmmmm! I like it rough. Do you?” She asked as she leaned forward and took just the huge head between her lips and French-kissed it, swirling it round and round his knob.
It was his turn to groan, and he did, loudly enough to cause an angry Cindy slam a drawer in the outer room. He was startled by the noise, but quickly returned his concentration to the Doctor.
Sharon, damn it, her name is Sharon, remember it! He castigated himself then discovered her looking up at him and smiling before sliding her hand to his testicles, giving them a gentle squeeze. It was his turn to emit the sound best described as “Mmmmmm!”
Then she was deep-throating him once again, and he saw stars as his huge member bulged her cheeks out as it coursed down the walls of her throat until her nose was nestled in his pubic hair. Soft moans of pleasure issued from her clogged trachea, and she sucked for air as well as the heavily veined cock lodged firmly in her esophagus. Finally she released him from her deep confines, running her tongue from bulbous tip to his hairy base.
“Christ,” Sharon groaned, “I love the taste of you. I love the feel of your cock in my mouth. I could stay like this all day, nursing your cock . . .” She licked her lips and her eyes sparkled.
“It’s kind of like an all-day sucker,” she said chortling at her lousy pun.
“And you don’t see many of them these days, do you?” Dutch couldn’t help but ask.
“I see plenty of cocks, Dutch. In fact, I get to suck plenty of them too. But you’re built differently than most.” She took a long lick, ending by slurping happily on his now purplish knob. “And I could . . .” She paused to kiss his slit that oozed pre-cum. “suck on you all day. And what’s more, I have to tell you how impressed I am of you not having come already. You’ve got great staying power.”
She swallowed him deeply again, delicately cupping his balls with one hand and reaching to tantalize his scrotum with the other. Dutch moaned in pleasure and held her head between both hands. Sharon dislodged his cock, pulled away and hissed crudely in his ear. “I’m going to swallow your cock and fuck you up the ass.”
“Sharon,” he replied, “you’re my kind of woman, ninety percent slut, ten percent angel.” Then it was his turn to grunt with pain as her unlubricated finger finished circling his anus and suddenly darted in to the knuckle.
“That’s it BITCH! Do me now, ’cause I’m gonna rattle your bones when my dick slams into YOUR ass hole.”
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