Below is part three of my sex life consulting client Rachel’s adult doctor playing scene with her husband Oram. For those who didn’t read part one, and part two, I advised Rachel on how to create her scene so her husband, a newcomer to scene play in sex, would have a great first time.

 

“Wider please,” spoken as she taps, then pushes at the
inside of his thighs, insisting he move his knees apart a bit more. With width
comes the necessary space to work between his ass cheeks.

She stands out of his sight, removes her coat and retrieves
the Aeros and the lubrication from the tray. Behind him now, where he can’t see
her (as long as he maintains the requested position) she tosses the coat onto
the bed and into his line of sight. He knows she is exposed. His rear cheeks tense
and release in acknowledgement, as a fine mist of perspiration covers his
skin.

The soft, squishy noises of lube being rubbed by the doctor
over her hands, over her tool, seem amplified in the quiet of the room.  Then, before the prostate massage begins,
and using a slightly patronizing tone, she provides him a small amount of
praise on the excellent state of his healthy, clean anus, a true beauty.  

His only reply, delivered in a soft and shaky voice, “Come
on, come on, your killing me sweetie,” is a little disrespectful, but she can
smile big and let it slide, as he can’t see her expression.

Now begins Dr. Smith’s running commentary on the procedure, detailing
each action before it is taken.  And, oh,
what a powerfully erotic moment for the doctor, as she finally reaches to stroke
a slick finger around the puckered opening. The generous amount of lube allows
for a sensual glide, and draws a grunt and quick intake of air from the
patients other end.

The Aneros follows after her fingers have lubed him inside
and out, the smooth white tool creating pleasure for him as she slowly circles
the tip over the nerve ends there, and then slides it in easily.

“Now sir, my goal is to create a rhythm that presses the
Aneros deep and steady against your prostate, and we’ll be patient and
persistent together, and watch what happens. “ As she proceeds, the doctor
rattles off a few facts about prostate health for good measure. She’s fairly
certain he didn’t hear a word of it.

How easy it became to settle into the sensual flow started
with a slow up and down motion as her right hand worked the tool in his ass, carried,
as his torso made a slight front to back movement and his back arched up a bit
as his abdomen tensed.  This drew her
left hand to his upper thigh at the underside of his buttock, circling lightly
over his fuzz there, completing the flow.

Between his legs, beyond his ball sack, I watched, forever
it seemed, as his cock bobbed, dusky red and extended stiffly. It drew me away,
ready or not, from the role I was playing. The doctor drifted away as my hand
reach to stroke along his shaft’s length. 

Several minutes more and his moans began in earnest, his
hands grabbed and held the mussed sheet with greater urgency, and I watched,
fascinated, as the thin, silky line of prostate fluid oozed off the tip of his
glands towards the bed. I had never seen it like this before, and in my fascinated
distraction, I fumbled with the Aeros, letting it get ejected from his rear.

That did it. The taught rubber band of new experiences and sexual
tension snapped with the unexpected jolt of my tool dropping to the bed. And
since the patient probably left when the doctor did, we found ourselves alone,
once again in the hotel room, finishing the scene as two hot and bothered hotel
guests would.

“I’m done, Rachel. I’m just done…. Get your hot ass up here!”

I imagined me still as the hot woman doctor whose patient just lost it and is taking her in her office. Waiting room and reception staff outside and all. I flopped on the
bed with my legs hanging over the side, as he moved off and stood in front of
me. I sighed, and with my forearm resting over my eyes, took a big breath. Had
I been holding it? Maybe, and as the tension drained from me, he was making
quick work of the garters and panties, then proceeding to run light fingers all
over the silky fun of my thigh-highs. I laughed softly, and with a grin in his
voice he responded by making me promise to incorporate the stockings outside of
my medical practice. A nod was I’ll I could muster.

And then I remember his mouth moving over all my sweet,
moist parts, creating new spots of moisture and heat on places where it was not
usually so, where he knows I like his soft lips and hot breath, then teeth, and
finally soothing swipes of wet tongue.  In
the process, he included a few lucky fingers from the hand not attached to the arm
still lying over my eyes. Of
course his travels brought him to my protruding nipples before his mouth finally
danced attendance on my hip bones and belly, finishing me off with even
repetitive oral pressure on my clit. It was a quick burst of an orgasm, as I
felt easy, even wanton, lying there with only my lose stockings left on, my heeled
sandals digging into his shoulders as he knelt on the floor in front of me at
the edge of the bed. I was well and truly sated, and any energy I had left was
dissipating fast with the pinging after-pulses in my pussy. He had just sucked
and licked everything away, so the finale, for him, would be a simple, fast and
hard fuck.

After I was moved and settled, belly down, on the low “exam”
bench, I indicated the condom on the tray, conveniently left there by the
doctor. He grabbed and ripped at it before executing an expert, one handed
application over his hard-as-steel dick, leaving his other hand to play in the
folds of my pussy, exploring for his own benefit, rather than my arousal. Holding
himself over me, with hands braced at the edges of the bench’s sides, only our
sex parts making contact, he allowed himself the luxury of speed and lots of
loud, throaty noises working up to his thick release deep inside me. Poor baby, it had been more
than 45 minutes of an up and down hardon for him. So much cum slid out of me later when I went to the bathroom during dinner at a restaurant. I reached down and masturbated my now rested clit with it. I wanted to text him to come into the women’s room with me so much.

And really, as straight forward as the final act was, I
would guess that it was a better than average come for him. And he reminded me,
as we enjoyed the mental drift and hushed talk before our afternoon nap, how
the kind of release after a lot of stopping and starting, fairly new to our sex
a la Mr. Amaranth’s teaching, can be the best. Like the complete decadence of a seven layer
chocolate cake, I thought, compared to the simple pleasure of a chocolate chip
cookie.

“So do you think that you’ll take advantage of the doctor’s
services again?” I asked.

“Yeah, we should do that again,” he said, with little-boy
enthusiasm.

Good.

I didn’t tell him
that I had several other procedures to try with him, left out today, several
other things I had planned but failed to execute, lines in the script that had
been left unsaid. After all, when someone admires your work, its poor taste to
point out all the flaws that you know are there.

-Fin

For those new to my blog: I write on my and others’ sex life, in erotica form, because many of us need only read of an example of what really is possible. It so often lights a desire to “Want to do that. Feel that.” A want to learn how to have better sex through sex advice and sex education, maybe for the first time in their lives. I also intend to present to my readers the reality of great sex at any level of sophistication. I’m referred by a sex therapist sometimes, but I don’t do sex therapy. I’m a sex life consultant. I teach and I do.

If you love my writing and sex advice, here’s where to:

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Remember the prehistoric dildo they unearthed in Germany?  Archaeologists in Sweden found this 4″ dildo – again in a cave.  This one has a much better representation of the penis head.  Thank you, camlawnman, for the link.   

Hi Betty,

A while ago you answered a question from a woman who decided to stretch her hymen, instead of breaking it. I’m very glad I read that, because I’m trying to do the same thing myself. At 25, I recently started dating a man who is my first sex partner. We haven’t had vaginal intercourse yet, because of my hymen. I have a strong, fleshy hymen. Until recently, it has only allowed the passage of one finger. (I have small hands.) With patience – and a lot of lube – I’ve been able to stretch it to allow two fingers. Do you know if it is likely that I will be able to manually stretch it out to allow an erect penis? My lover is quite thick.

I love sex but, I have to admit, I feel some trepidiation at the thought of intercourse. I’ve heard stories of women with thick hymens bleeding and experiencing a lot of pain. If I cannot stretch it, I am considering asking my doctor if I can have it cut with a scalpel. I have read online that doctors will remove hymens for medical necessity (such as women who can’t have periods). Would doctors be willing to do the procedure simply for the patient’s convenience?

I was also wondering if you have any suggestions as to a female empowering ritual to celebrate my first intercourse. I don’t consider myself a virgin, but vaginal intercourse seems significant. Doing it for the first time feels like a right of passage. Unfortunately, most cultures in the world traditionally see the first intercourse in a patriarchial light, so modern feminists don’t have a cultural reference for how to celebrate this event. I thought maybe that with your vast experience of talking to people about sex, you might have heard of something like this.

Dear SC,

What a wonderful idea, designing a ritual to celebrate a rite of passage for your first time penis/vagina intercourse. In one of my workshops, one woman wanted the rest of the group (6 in all) to perform a ritual to bring her into womanhood. She was bathed in the tub and dried off by many hands. We then proceeded to give her a group massage including her vulva. She penetrated herself with her favorite silicon dildo and using her favorite vibrator, she had an orgasm while the other women kissed and caressed her entire body.

Something like this could be done with two or more of your close girlfriends. Visualize yourselves as priestesses from the Temple of Sexual Love and Abundance with candles, incense and appropriate music. You are performing a ritual of entering womanhood. A penis inside a vagina is very powerful symbol of impregnation, motherhood and woman-power with a planned pregnancy!

Instead most young women today fear pregnancy due to their lack of access to conception and knowledge about their sexual bodies. The breaking of the hymen with pain and blood stems from ignorant male religions that want to control women and keep us second class. The Goddess and her priestesses celebrate this rite of passage differently. Since much of woman’s history was never recorded, it’s up to us to re-create our own. Do write up your experience and lets begin a blog about woman’s sex rituals.

Dr. Betty

I’ve been thinking lately about the need for a sexual bill of rights. A document that helps protect us from crazy despot dictators and insane religious leaders who view sex as an enemy combatant, or worse yet, a mortal sin to be demolished.

We need to cultivate a scientific, factually based view of sex, and enact sweeping reforms that protect the sex health rights of all individuals – including those who are ardently opposed to such ideas. It is truly time to mandate that science catch up to reality.

People are having lots and lots of sex.

It is a crime against humanity that people can have sex and still potentially die. There is something wrong with our culture that we have not protected sexuality with the same fervor that we have protected our cities, countries, and ideals. Sex is the basis of life. Without sex there are no cities, countries, or religions.

Sex must be considered one of our most basic human rights. However, because suppression of sex has been so tightly bound to religion thinking – it has left us feeling that there is something inherently wrong with sexuality.

This is completely misguided. Sex is a basic freedom – and it must be protected.

Without sex there is no life. And if we can never freely have sex without the specter of death lurking somewhere in the shadows of reality – or in depths of our psyche perpetuating fear and anxiety – there can be no true sexual freedom, no expansive education, no durable sexual liberation.