Happy Haunting #3
“My nurse practitioner was concerned about some irregularities,” I hiss as I struggle to control myself. I want to touch my wife. Pull her down, kiss her, and get that dress off of her.
“I can see something is surely unusual, but...” Molly sits on one hip and pats my hand comfortingly as it rests on my chest. “Unusual can be perfectly normal in some cases. Would you like me to do an examination of the area?”
“I would love that.” I look up at Molly with sudden concern. “You don’t normally talk like this to your patients, do you?”
Molly glares. “No! This is special nurse and husband treatment,” she hisses and pokes my hip.
“Then carry on.” I give her my best apologetic eyes, and she purses her lips, but then smiles again.
“All right, sir. Is there any pain? Any pressure?”
“So much pressure,” I swallow. Molly finds the massage lotion I placed by the cocoa body butter and smears some on her hand before wrapping it around my pulsating, writhing cock.
“Ooh, he’s very friendly,” Molly teases, voice breathless.
My cock is curling against her palm, aching to be in her grip, to be inside of her.
She squeezes back, gently, touching me with light, feathery strokes, up and down the length.
Finding the tip and teasing it as my eyes roll back.
She pumps down the base and hums to herself.
“This seems to be where the pressure is concentrated. I can definitely feel a hardness there. I’m going to recommend a course of massage and heat therapy. ”
“Molly, my God,” I whimper when her fist starts milking me, slow and slippery, pumping me and making the pressure worse, not better.
“That’s Nurse Wifey, sir.”
“You’re rather making the matter worse, not better,” I confess in a strangled voice.
“Well, I think the heat therapy will help, but I want to make sure I’ve done all I can with first-line treatments. Heat therapy is a little unorthodox, you see. Body heat, they’ve found, can be the most effective. How do you feel about alternative therapies?”
“I put myself entirely in your hands,” I agree, barely able to speak.
Molly leans down. Leans over me. I stare down and almost die (not that I can without a heap of paperwork) at the sight of her breasts cupped together in her skimpy outfit. “How would you feel if I put you in my pussy instead?” she whispers, lips ghosting over mine.
I gasp up at her, struck speechless with lust and at how seamlessly she can act professional and caring, and like God’s gift to smooth seduction in the same breath. “I’m afraid I would only do that with my wife.”
Molly giggles and kisses me. “I love you, you honorable patient of mine. But I am your wife—and your bedside nurse, too. So...” She squeezes my cock a little harder, making me moan. “Tell wifey where it hurts?”
“Cock,” I croak.
“Poor sweetie. I can fix you all up. Just need,” Molly slowly raises her dress over her hips and reveals a smooth, shaved quim that glistens in the low light, making my mouth water at once, “to let all of that pent-up pressure out, don’t you?” she coos, straddling my hips, guiding my cock into her.
The brush of her wet lips is like heaven, and then she parts herself with two fingers, showing me how my tentacle-like cock worms its way in deeper, an erotic sight out of a Halloween horror for some, and pure romance for us.
Then, she sinks down, slowly, voice high and breathless.
“How’s that, Mr. Reaper? Any discomfort? ”
“Much better,” I sigh, reaching for her hips. “May I make a little adjustment?”
“Mm, I’m a big believer in patient autonomy. Do whatever you’d like to make things more comfortable.”
“Molly, I’m going to have to marry you all over again after this,” I hiss. “Naughty little thing!”
“Don’t speak to a highly trained professional like that,” she warns as my hands find her waist, pulling her down until her clit kisses my sparse dark hairs above my cock, grinding against her.
“I want that little quim warmer and wetter, please, nurse,” I grunt.
“Hmm, I think friction might help.” Molly grins and starts to post on me, pumping me in and out of her slit, each motion making a slick pop and glide until the sounds of our bodies rival the sounds of the waves on our chosen soundtrack.
“The swelling isn’t going down. In fact, I think it’s harder now,” Molly moans.
I tug her neckline down to free her breasts, thumbs toying over the nipples as she rocks herself on my cock. It’s buried in her now, and it won’t come out until I’ve marked her as mine.
“I think we’re almost there,” I whisper. “A few more minutes of treatment ought to do it. Definitely a way to relieve the swelling.”
“Maybe another device would work better.” Molly smiles, pulls off of me with a whimper that passes from her lips to mine, and sinks her mouth down over my phallus with a look of pure sinfulness.
“Mmm. Yummy,” she says with a long lick up the back of my thick, pulsing cock, and then she pulls me back into her mouth, into her throat, where the slightest squeeze as she swallows pops me like the champagne we’ll be having later.
“Fuck!” I roar, unable to make any more articulate declaration. I want to say how hot this was, how much I love her, how wonderful, fun, and thrilling she made a Halloween night that was supposed to be for her.
Molly sits up with a smirk, licking her lips, showing me a faint creamy trace on her pink tongue. “The swelling’s gone down.”
“The patient is fully satisfied. But the nurse? The nurse is criminally underpaid. I think I’m going to have to take you to the spa for a thank-you treatment.
You might want to slip into something that’s not work attire.
Something like what I’m wearing,” I gesture to my naked body, now back to its human guise.