smut as promised please comment/critique!!!

by smg

Posted to Stories on 2002-10-16 18:55:00

wrote this after a visit to the chiropractor earlier in the year. i would love comments to help me make it better, more literary if you will. thanks!

“It looks like you have some subluxation and some muscle tenderness here,” he said, gently massaging the place where my neck meets my shoulders. “And here.” He kneaded my lower back. “Do you have a lot of stress or tension in your life?” asked Dr. Cohen.

“Yeah, I guess. I just moved here, and I’m looking for a job. And I sit at a computer all day, so I have crappy posture.”

He moved over to write something in his chart, and I studied him. He was younger than I had expected, probably 27 or 28, but definitely not past 30. His eyes were that grayish-blue color that young girls dream of, and his eyebrows formed near-perfect arches above them. Except for the eyes, his face was rather unremarkable: lightly scarred from adolescent acne I supposed, a nose that was almost too pointy and lips that, while full, looked rough. He was only an inch or two taller than me, spiked hair included. His hands were not manicured, but they were soft and knew where to touch me to take away the pain. I wouldn’t have turned and followed him on the sidewalk, but I would have approached him at a bar. He was that kind of attractive: striking, not stunning.

“Have you ever tried any homeopathic remedies in addition to chiropractic care?” he asked.

It took me a minute to remember what homeopathic meant. I thought he was hinting that he was gay. “Oh. No. I’ve never really believed that stuff works. A little too voodoo for me.”

“Okay, let me give you my spiel on homeopathy then. And then I want to test some of it on you.” He turned and moved to a shelf where there were dozens of small spritzer bottles. He had a nice ass. He selected a few of the multi-colored bottles and proceeded to tell me that he had his mother on the menopause alleviation spray and the sleep aid spray and that a friend of his took the migraine spray. And that both of them felt marked improvement in their symptoms. “Are you willing to let me test the sprays on you?”

Of course I was. It was kind of odd, a doctor being so into homeopathy, but, he was a doctor and he was attractive. And I had nothing better to do for the afternoon.

“Okay, these are water-based, all-natural sprays. They have no taste and won’t interfere with any of the medications that you’re on. Lift your tongue please.” He sprayed the anxiety spray into my mouth, and a little dripped onto my chin. I moved to wipe it off with my arm, but he motioned my hand away.

“Here, let me get that for you.” He grabbed a paper towel from the counter and gently wiped the spray off my face. His first and second fingers grazed my lower lip as his hand swept across my chin. I felt a tingle in my chest.

“Okay. After I do your adjustment, we’ll test your aura to see if the spray has any effect on you.”

He had me lie face down on the chiropractic table and told me he was going to adjust my hips to help with my lower back pain. His hands roamed about my lower back and ass, lingering, then selected the point where my panties peeked out of my skirt. He pushed down with both hands and I heard a pop.

“How was that?” Dr. Cohen asked.

I mumbled that it was fine. I could smell his cologne, some kind of mix between Eternity and citrus. An arousing scent. My nipples hardened. He pushed down a few more times and then moved his hands along my spine to my upper back, brushing my long hair out of his was as he went. I was wearing one of those shirts that’s held together by one string tied like a shoelace, so my entire back was revealed. “You have such pale, supple skin,” he said. “It’s beautiful. And it’s complimented so well by your dark hair. Kind of 18th century England.”

“Yeah, well,” I muttered.

He undid the knot that held my shirt together. The sides fell to the table, revealing fleshy glimpses of my breasts. No bras required, even for C’s, when wearing backless shirts.

“What are you doing?” I asked, rather surprised. I’d never had a chiropractor undress me before. Or tell me I had nice skin, for that matter.

“I thought it would be more comfortable for you if there wasn’t a knot pushing into your back while I did the adjustment.” Made sense. Though I was a little nervous, it had been so long since a man had touched me in any way that I wasn’t going to do much complaining.

He tickled my shoulders with the tips of his fingers and told me to take a deep breath, then exhale. As I did, he pushed down hard, bringing forth another loud crackpop. “I’m going to turn you over, bend you into a pretzel and jump on you now.”

“Are those the technical terms, Dr. Cohen?” I asked. I smiled. What the hell, why not flirt with him?

“Yep,” he smiled back. He had a great smile. Toothy, but not a “my-what-big-teeth-you-have” smile.

He turned me on my left side, politely averted his eyes while I adjusted my shirt to cover my erect nipple, then had me cross my arms in front of me and bring my right knee up to my chin. Indeed a pretzel, and he did indeed jump on me. I groaned, a pleased groan, and my lower back crackcrackcracked.

“Theeere we go,” he said. “That sounded good. Ready for the traction table?”

“I’ve been on traction tables at my other chiropractors. I didn’t think they were that helpful.” Traction tables are about the size of a single bed and have a wheel almost the width of the table that moves up and down in waves along the spine to get some of the kinks out.

“Well, this one might be different. Never hurts to try.” He had me get on the table, turned it on high, set the timer and turned the radio to the local jazz station.

“These are homeopathic relaxation candles that I’m lighting,” he said. He placed one near the head of the traction table, and several on and around the radio. He turned the lights off and the candles let off a nice, welcoming glow. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to see how you’re doing.”

With each pass of the wheel, a different part of my body rose toward the ceiling. First my pelvis, then my stomach, then my chest and then my neck. Reversed and repeated countless times. I began to doze off.

“How’re we doing in here?” Dr. Cohen asked quietly.

“Mmmm, good. This is a lot better than I remembered.” I opened my eyes to look up at him. He was leaning over me, his face close to mine.

“So you’re comfortable?” he asked, leaning closer, lips almost touching mine.

“Ye…” The traction table pushed my lips up to meet his.

He didn’t pull away.


He put his hand on my cheek and pulled me closer to him. His tongue parted my lips and entered my mouth, cautiously exploring. I reciprocated, eager and hungry for the touch. I took hold of his shoulders and pulled his upper body tight against mine.

“I can feel your heart beating,” I whispered.
“I can feel yours, too.”

He lifted my shirt over my head and started kissing my breasts. He started near my collarbone then worked his way down to my right nipple. He flicked it with his tongue, making it even harder. His mouth moved to my left breast, kissing and nibbling while his hand worked my other breast. I moaned.

“Hang on,” he said.

He got on the traction table, straddling me. As my hips moved up towards his, partly the traction wheel, partly me, I could feel his erection beginning. I was wet and hoping he wouldn’t stop before we had sex. I knew was the last patient of the day, but there was always the possibility someone else would come in, or that the phone would ring, or that he would lose interest. I pulled his face back toward mine and plunged my tongue into his mouth. He caressed the side of my breasts with his thumbs while the wheel pushed parts of my body into his over and over again.

I pulled his shirttails out of his pants and slid my hands into them. He wasn’t wearing underwear. I grabbed his ass and pulled him against me. His butt was firm and smooth. My fingers worked their way to his rectum as he continued kissing and fondling my breasts. I teased his asshole with the tips of my nails and stroked his nifkin. He moaned and I could feel his cock stiffen.

“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Mmmhmmm.”

His lips moved down my body, lightly brushing my stomach on the way. “Such a firm stomach,” he murmured. He licked my belly button, pulled on the navel ring gently with his teeth and began unbuttoning my skirt. It was a wrap skirt, and only had three buttons. It fell away and draped over the table as he unfastened the last button.

“Very adult underwear,” he said, smiling. They were white bikinis with Eeyore and butterflies and flowers all over them. “Ahh, there’s the woman,” he said as he moved aside the damp cotton crotch and stroked my wet inner lips with a finger. I breathed faster. I tried to maneuver his finger deeper into me, but he pulled away.

He moved his body back so his chest was against mine. He kissed my neck and shoulders. My pussy was throbbing and I could feel his erection poking my thigh through his pants. I reached under him and undid his belt and pants. I shoved them down below his ass and grabbed hold of his cock.

“I need it,” I sighed. I slid my hand up and down his shaft, rotating my hand and squeezing. He moved against me and I knew he was ready.

I held his cock, pulled aside my panties, and the next time the traction wheel thrust my pelvis up, I enveloped him.

I gasped. The first penetration is always the most painful, but also the most pleasurable. I grabbed his ass with both hands and forced him deeper into me.

“Put your feet on the table with your knees up,” he said. He was supporting himself on the table with his elbows, his hands tangled in my hair. The position he suggested provided a better angle for both of us. I could rub my clit against his shaft and he could thrust deeper and harder. The sensation was amazing, like every possible part of my body was being stimulated: his hard cock filling my pussy and stroking my clit, his teeth and lips kissing and biting my tits and mouth, nearly every part of his body pressed against nearly every part of mine. I could feel the roughness of his dress pants against my legs and the slight trembling of his arms against my side. I tightened around his cock, my hands still on his ass.

As he thrust down and in, I moved my hips up to meet him. And with each pass of the wheel under my ass, it was a deeper, harder, better meeting. He started breathing faster and I knew he was about to come. I slid my pussy off him and grabbed his dick with one hand to finish him off and began fingering myself with the other. My thumb circled my pulsing clit, and my first three fingers moved urgently inside me, trying to reach the point that would make me come. I stroked him slowly, my thumb playing with the head. As I was about to climax, I gave him one final, hard stroke and we managed to come at almost the same time.

Ding!

The traction wheel stopped moving. My time was up.

Dr. Cohen looked down at me and smiled. There was a little sweat on his forehead; his cheeks and neck were flushed. “Do you feel better now?” he asked, breathing heavily. He stood up and adjusted his clothing.

I righted my underwear and buttoned my skirt. “Definitely,” I said. I felt pleasantly used. My pussy was throbbing and my nipples still tingled. I could smell the sex in the air. It was a good smell. He helped me tie my shirt correctly and opened the door for me.

“I thought we were going to check my aura,” I said as I was walking out the door.

“You have a nice healthy glow.” He smiled. “You’re fine.”

“Thank you, doctor,” I said, and walked out of the office.



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