Our hospital took a holistic approach to medicine. That is, we didn't just focus on making the physical patient healthy; we wanted to make sure that their mental approach to life was healthy, too.
That's where I came in. Before completing whatever treatment, they needed, patients filled out a questionnaire. Among the questions was one asking about having ever been treated for things like alcohol abuse, drug addiction, depression, etc.
It was my job to make sure that none of these issues reappeared.
My own mental health was great. By that I mean my sex life. Frank and I had been together for five years. Although I was very professional at work, and dressed modestly, at home, Frank claimed I fucked like a rabbit.
He had to admit that he'd never seen rabbits fuck, and I reminded him that I could not have done it alone.
I'd had other lovers with bigger cocks, but none knew how to use it like Frank. And did I mention how much his tongue loved my pussy? I showed my appreciation for the things his tongue did with my own mouth work. Yummy!!!!
Back to my work. Every week, I reviewed those questionnaires and pulled out those with past problems.
I enjoyed the work, and thought I helped people work through all the issues that their illnesses brought on, and rarely did I come across any unusual issues.
Then there was Harry Ferguson (not his real name). He was seventy-years-old. Short, chunky, balding, ordinary looking. As they say, you can't tell a book by its cover.
I first met him when he was going through treatment. He had an IV in his arm. I sat down and introduced myself. "I think I'm fine. I feel great, and I'm no longer dealing with any of the issues which originally led my therapist to diagnose me with depression."
"When and why did she diagnose you with depression?"
"It's kind of embarrassing. I'd rather not talk about it."
"Okay, but if you do, all you have to do is tell your nurse, and I'll make room for you on my schedule right away."
I never pushed a patient. When they were ready; they were ready. Some never were. Every day, I walked through the ward, smiling, saying hello to patients. I thought my presence might be enough to get them to open up.
That's what happened with Harry. "Ms. O'Neal, can you make time for me to come to your office?"
"Sure, how about 1:30?"
"So, why were you diagnosed with depression?" I asked, getting to the point, as soon as he sat down.
"Ummmm, like I said it's somewhat embarrassing."
"Harry, over the last decade, I've heard just about everything. Men often have sexual issues that they are hesitant to talk about."
It was something I'd learned in my Master's program. When men say it's embarrassing; the issue is usually sexual and usually had to do with not being able to perform.
"Ummmm, Ms. O'Neal I've been married twice, had a number of lovers, but I've never asked a woman for a date since high school."
"Harry, there is nothing embarrassing about visiting sex workers. It's consensual, and you can enjoy the type of sex that turns you on."
"No, no, no. That's not what I mean."
"What do you mean?"
"Ms. O'Neal. I have no idea why. When I look in the mirror, I don't see Sean Connery, Robert Redford, Tom Cruise or whoever it is that makes your heart skip a beat."
I had to agreed. Like I said, even if he was forty years younger, I don't think I'd look at him twice. "How did you meet your first wife?"
"It was a blind date. We were in college. An old high school friend fixed us up. It worked out, but six years later we were divorced."
"Do you want to tell me why?"
"Back then I couldn't say ‘no.' Even now, if I was healthy I probably couldn't."
"I'm not sure what you mean?"
"Ms. O'Neal, I was a school teacher, and during my first year of teaching, and just a few months after we were married, there was one of those open houses, parent-teacher nights."
"I remember those from when I was kid. My parents always went."
"Anyhow, this young woman comes in and asks where's the teacher, Mr. Ferguson?"
I told her I was Mr. Ferguson. "You don't look like a teacher? I'm Miss Jansen, Laurie's mom." You must remember; I was just twenty-one and many of my senior students were eighteen. We weren't that far apart age wise.
"And you don't look like a mother?" She didn't. Miss Jansen might have been in her late thirties but looked and dressed like she was my age.
We talked about her daughter, Laurie. I thanked her for coming; and met with other parents. I thought nothing of it.
Two days later, there was a message on my office desk that Miss Jansen called and asked me to call her about her daughter.
"Mr. Ferguson, I know this is unusual, but could we talk in private about Laurie. Perhaps, you can come for dinner Friday night?"
Remember, I was twenty-one and naïve. I explained to my wife that I was invited to dinner by a student and her mom. I wouldn't be home too late.
It turns out that dinner was with Ms. Jansen. "Mr. Ferguson, please call me Holly. Laurie has a sleep over tonight. I thought we could talk in private during dinner."
Dessert was in bed with Holly Jansen. I was a virgin until my wife and I got engaged. She was the only one until now. Ms. Jansen was a revelation.
Although my wife and I fucked a lot, we were still newlyweds. We really didn't know what we were doing. Holly did. I was on top, and she was giving me the ride of my life. Bouncing, rolling, legs and hips in constant motion.
It wasn't too long after we finished that Holly insisted on more.
As newlyweds, we'd experimented with oral sex, but it wasn't satisfactory for either of us. Now, I know why, my wife had no idea what she was doing. I didn't either. Holly Jansen was masterful. It took a long time, and I loved every minute of it.
Looking back, it was really my first actual blowjob. When she finished, "Mr. Ferguson, I hope that convinced you that I'd like to see you again."
For almost two years, we continued to see each other. However, this was a small town, and word soon spread, and eventually my wife found out.
I found a new teaching position in a high school in a Philadelphia suburb and an apartment in the next town.
I became a follower of the high school's football and basketball teams. After games I'd stop at a bar about a mile from my house.
I'd sit at the bar, watch a game on TV and chat with some of the regulars; some men, some women. There was Richie, Greg, Patty, Amos, Freddie, Mary Elizabeth, among others. They were a fun group.
Over a few weeks I learned what they did, where they lived, etc., and they found the same about me.
One Friday night, I stayed longer than usual. The Phillies were in the baseball play-offs and the game went extra innings. Staying longer than I should, also meant drinking more beer than I should.
The next morning at 7:15 my doorbell rang. I usually slept naked. I threw on a pair of jogging shorts and answered it. "I brought you coffee and some Danish. When you left last night, you looked like you'd need something this morning."
Patty had to be close to fifty. I'd never really noticed her, but sitting at my kitchen table, as my brained cleared I did. Tall, thick, a few wrinkles here and there, and her blonde hair was clearly colored.
"So, Harry did you have any plans for today?"
"I've got some errands to run, but nothing important. Why?" I was still naïve, and why would a fifty-year-old woman have any interest in twenty-three-year-old me?
She got up, took me by the hand, and led me to my bedroom. It was a one-bedroom apartment; it wasn't hard to find.
In my bedroom, Patty put her arms around me, kissed me on the mouth, using her tongue, and then pulled me down on top of her.
Naïve; not stupid.
"Harry, women my age often find it difficult to find men who find them attractive." She guided my hand to her tit. "Do you find me attractive, Harry?"
I'm twenty-three years old; a woman just dragged me to bed, stuck her tongue in my mouth, and put my hand on her tit. Of course, I found her attractive, and my hardening cock proved it.
Patty noticed as our legs were intertwined. Her hand went to my crotch. Not for long. Within seconds she slipped her hand inside my waist band and gave a big sigh.
Now, Maureen, let me make something clear, what I have in my pants will not get me a job in the porn industry, if you know what I mean.
I knew what he meant. Like I said, I'd had several lovers before Frank. He wasn't the biggest, but he sure knew how to push my buttons.
Harry continued. It wasn't too long before those jogging shorts were around my knees, and Patty was stroking my cock.
Then just like Holly Jansen, she went down on me. I pushed my shorts to me ankles, and then off. For a minute or two, Patty just sucked. Then she took it out, "thank you, Harry for giving an old lady a thrill."
For the next, I don't even know how long, all I saw was the top of Patty's head as she bobbed up and down on my cock. I thought I was getting close.
With her experience, she must have sensed it too. "Harry, I'd love to keep going, but my pussy could use your cock."
Even Holly wasn't that blunt. Patty got out of bed and got undressed. She didn't do a strip tease, but she wasn't completely modest either.
She turned her back, unbuttoned her blouse, and once it was off, turned toward me, and unhooked her bra.
I'm twenty-three, of course, I looked. Patty's tits spilled out as her bra came off. I was in awe. Back then, other than my ex-wife and Holly, the only tits I'd seen was in porn magazines.
My ex- and Holly had small tits; not even a handful. Patty's were big; very big. I was anxious to get my hands on them, but she wasn't finished.
She took off her skirt and was standing there in just her panties. My ex- always wore bikini panties, and Holly wore nothing under the negligee she usually wore when she answered the door. Patty wore what have come to be called granny panties. The waistband was almost up to her belly button.
Do you think I cared. I was quite certain I was about to get laid. My cock had calmed down a bit, but it was still hard.
Once those panties were off, Patty climbed into bed. Immediately, my hand went to those tits. "I thought a young man like you might like them. Harry, they're all yours, but don't take too long, I'm anxious for your cock."
I did want to play with those big, no massive tits, but my cock had other ideas.
It wasn't too long before I was on top of her. "Harry, I'm not some high school or college girl. My pussy's sopping wet. Give me your cock." She guided it in.
As I said my wife and I experimented a lot, but we really didn't know what we were doing; although we did it a lot. Holly showed me how to fuck, and I thought it couldn't get any better.
Now there was Patty, that big ass and thick thighs lifted me off the bed time and time again. I deluded myself into thinking I was fucking her; the reality was she was fucking me. It was glorious.
My ex- and Holly moaned softly as I went in and out, and I'm not sure that either ever had an orgasm. Patty was loud as we bounced. "YEAH, YEAH, OH YEAH, I FORGOT HOW GOOD A COCK CAN BE. HARRY YOUR COCK, OH MY YOUR COCK. DON'T STOP. KEEP FUCKING ME GOOD, BABY. FUCK PATTY'S PUSSY."
It was by far the greatest morning of my young life. "Harry, thank you. You were amazing. It's been so long. I'm going to want it again when you're ready."
I wasn't quite ready, but I was young, and pussy was pussy, and available pussy, even fifty-year-old available pussy was something not to be passed up.
I thought about what Harry said. I understood. When I was in college I went through a period when any cock was better than no cock.
"When I was ready, I didn't get her pussy. Patty insisted that my reward for fucking her was a blowjob. Who was I to argue?
If Holly gave me my first real blowjob, Patty showed me how great blowjobs could be.
Maureen, it wasn't a one-night stand with Patty. Two or three times a month, I'd come home from school and she'd be parked in front of my apartment building. As I said, I couldn't say ‘no.'
I understood where Harry was coming from.
"There's more to tell, but I'm worn out. I should get back to my bed. I need some rest. I'll stop in to see you."
TO BE CONTINUED
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