My Life As A Doula
by
PlanetDweller
(FF, FFg, Fg, , MFF, pregnancy, pregnant sex, SRT, sexual release
therapy, massage therapy, mother/young incest)
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Patti slipped off her pregnancy frock and let it fall to the floor.
Smiling at her, I pulled her close to me in a friendly hug and unclasped
her bra, her pendulous and darkening nipples falling free to
gravity's wake. Her hand on my shoulder my thumbs tugged at the waistband
of her black and slipped them down and off her legs. My eyes
rising up to meet hers she kissed me friendly on the cheek as her paid
friend and therapist with a "Trish, I'm so glad you're here, I've been
waiting to see you so much for the past couple of weeks".
Patti was a typical client of mine and of the Joslyn Reproductive Health
Center who I worked for. She and her attorney and sometimes politician
husband were members of Raleigh's country club set, members of the Raleigh
Country Club and members of all the right clubs such as he being a member
of The Cardinal Club and she on the Board of The Junior League. A lavish
home in Five Points, a nice place at the beach. She was in her
mid-thirties, he ten years older. First child. Three previous
miscarriages in two years of fertility treatments. Enough money to afford
the higher-end services that the Joslyn Center offered, me being one tile
in the mosaic of those services.
Which is not to say the Dr. Hera Joslyn and her colleagues who were all
my bosses were snobs. Far from it. We did a ton of pro bono i.e. cases
fee gratis i.e. free, especially for higher-risk teen and younger (yes,
sometimes pre-teen who became pregnant) new moms who were sometimes
referred to us quietly by Social Services or one of the public hospitals
like Wake Memorial or UNC-Chapel Hill Hospital.
Patti stretched out belly down on a makeshift bed that we created from
her couch and bunch of pillows. I routinely bring my folding massage table
to sessions at a client's home or office, but seldom use it since most of
my pregnant clients find it too flat, find that it doesn't conform to easy
to their rounding anatomy and makes them a little or more than a little
uncomfortable especially after a few minutes.
Keeping with my training protocol as an Elysian School Of Massage
therapist, I disrobed as well before fetching a bottle of massage oil and a
portable plug-in massage oil heater (looks something like a baby bottle
warmer) from my bag and also plugging in my small boombox with a couple of
Enya CD's in it.
Adjusting the pillows to fit around and support Patti's child-borne
girth as she lay semi-angle semi-flat facing the back of the couch, the
warmth of my touch and the sensory and sensuousness of the garden flower
smell of the warm massage oil and the calming effect of Enya's sweet
angelic voice just drained the tension and fear from my friend and client
Patti. My hands working pressure gently down her spine, she shuddered a
shake of release and centering.
It's times like these when my mind sometimes wanders back, back to how I
wound up with this perfect job and life and lifestyle for me. But first
you might be asking: "what is a 'doula'?"
Well, "doula" comes from the Greek meaning "servant", and as you can
guess so far it has to do with helping pregnant women with their
pregnancies, but I'm neither a servant nor do I do tasks that lay or
professional midwives do such as assist with the actual delivery. Instead,
a typical doula provides woman-to-woman support before and during delivery,
offering a friendly ear, a friendly voice, and during the time of delivery
running errands and doing non-clinical helping things for the obstetrician
and midwife and mother-to-be. I guess I'm a little different from most
doulas in that as a Licensed Massage Therapist by the states of California
and New York and North Carolina I also provide a friendly and healing touch
as well during a client's pregnancy, something most duolas don't do, not
officially at least.
I fell into being a doula totally by chance, but I wouldn't trade my
life for anyone else's in the world right now. When I was eight, I was
playing some bicycle polo with a bunch of on the asphalt basketball
court at Henry Adams School in south Raleigh in a black neighborhood where
my was one of the few white families who lived in the Chavis Heights
public housing project when one of the accidentally or deliberately I
don't know and it doesn't matter now ran square into me on by Schwin
Stingray bike, shattering my leg in four places and also breaking my hip.
The doctors thought I might not ever walk again, or at least not walk
without a severe limp. But thanks to God above and a kind and caring
physical therapist, after two years of weekly physical therapy I regain
virtually complete use of my left leg and only walk with a limp now if I
run a 10K marathon (which I've done) and overdo it a little.
It was the caring and healing touch and efforts of Gracie, a kindly
middle-aged woman of the school of physical therapy who forced and
pushed and made me so damn mad sometimes I wanted to choke her but when my
leg would become freer of movement and from pain I could kiss her, that
made me set my goal of becoming a physical therapist. But…but in high
school, my SAT score was 1090 and my GPA was 2.97, and I needed a minimum
1100 SAT and 3.0 to be considered for even a partial scholarship at East
Carolina's four-year physical therapy program, and I really needed a full
not a partial one, and no other PT program in the country would offer me
any help at all either because of my scores.
But NC State did, at least a partial scholarship for a bachelor's in
physical education, not therapy, if I'd also agree to be trained to be a
trainer for the girl's soccer and basketball teams, which I accepted. It
was during my sophomore year that my parents, already helping all they
could but their circumstances simply not permitting, told me they couldn't
help me even a little anymore. So, basically for food money I answered an
ad in "The Technician" the campus paper for 'State that said they were
looking for "attractive females to train as massage therapists" for a local
establishment called "The Grecian Spa".
Seriously, I figured it was basically a J/O whorehouse, but I needed the
job for food money, so I applied. Much to my surprise it actually was a
day spa and much to my greater surprise they even sent me to a week's
course 100% expenses paid to the Elysian School Of Massage Therapy after I
agreed to work for them for at least one year and pay the $4,000 in travel
costs and tuition from my 60/40 (I got the 40% end of it) from client
fees. Being nineteen and five eight with decent and decent figure
and reddish hair and a natural easy smile and no reason not to, I
figured I could easily pay them back. In three months they were.
Elysian Massage differs from most other schools of therapeutic massage
in that the massage therapist also disrobes totally as does the client, and
unless the client openly and verbally objects the therapist always does an
SRT (Sexual Release Therapy mechanism) on the client, whether that client
is male or female or the therapist is male or female. Sure, for the first
few times during class it bothered me some, since we practiced on our
fellow students, and no I'm not or even bi in my real life though I
have experimented with women as partners in RL and found them, well,
cock-less lacking, but by the end of the week none of us minded doing full
massages with SRT's on each other whether male or female or being done to
by another student male or female, it was simply part of the job.
My life as a doula began shortly after my own pregnancy which ended in a
still birth. Since had a history of miscarriages before me, my OBGYN
put me on his watchlist, and since he was affiliated with UNC-Chapel Hill
hospital which was and is one of the most progressive hospitals in the
country, well, I 'll spare you the details but let's just say that I became
a willing test subject in UNC's newly started doula program.
My doula's name was Jackie, and she was such a help to me. Even though
she and the clinic were following a more restrictive program of just a
couple of visits before the birth and spending the entire time with during,
when the doctors crashcarted my sweet Jennifer but couldn't bring her back
to life, her lungs simply filling with fluid too fast for Dr. Jacobs and
team to drain them out, Jackie held me like the I never had as I
literally cried my eyes out for hours and hours in the recovery room area.
If Jackie hadn't been there, I simply don't know how I could have made it
emotionally. Going home, she got special permission to visit with me for
hours per day for the next week. If she hadn't been there for me, I don't
know if I'd be here now writing my life's for you to read.
Like my physical therapist Gracie from when I was little who helped me
so much, the thought got in my head that I wanted to become like Jackie,
become a doula. It took the Wake County Library's reference section a
couple of days of digging, but eventually they did find me a "American
Association Of Doulas" (AAD) in Minneapolis. I called them the same day
and had information about becoming one in a week.
Being doula requires just two or three basic things, and the rest is
window-dressing: 1) you have to be a woman, 2) you have to have been
pregnant and given birth, and 3) you must demonstrate caring, compassion,
empathy, etc., oh, and 4) AAD heavily recommended that you attend one of
their approved courses taught by a certified nurse midwife that gives you
the basic do's and don't and boundaries and limits of what a doula does and
doesn't do.
I sent in my thirty-five dollar associate/provisional member application
fee the next day, and called the a certain Mary Thomas who was going to
hold a four day doula course three weeks later to be held in Horsham,
Pennsylvania over a Friday through a Monday. She had two openings out of
fifteen left. I next-day-aired her my $100 deposit on the $500 fee.
Danny, who owned and ran Grecian Spa where I worked, had been very
supportive during my unplanned pregancy, giving me all the time off I
needed and even giving me half salary during that time which he certainly
didn't need to do and had attended himself and had sent a huge flower
arrangement for my baby Jennifer's funeral, and now was equally
enthusiastic about this possible career change. I had been working at
Grecian Spa all during and now for five years after, and while I
still had my looks, I no longer was a perfect 10 killer bod nineteeen year
old, and while I don't think Danny would have said a word about me ever
leaving, over the past couple of years the consistency and number of my
client bookings had been consistently tappering off, and we both knew
eventually I'd be too to massage and SRT horny but girlfriend-less
young studs from campus and lonely businessmen who made up most of my
clientele save the ten to twenty percent of housewifey women who made up
the rest. He even asked me if I needed a loan for the rest of the tuition,
but living cheaply and thriftly for all my adult life, I didn't.
The school was held mostly at Mary Thomas' house, a huge farmhouse
out in the Amish country. Over the four days we saw a lot of films and did
a lot of role-playing and listened to a lot of lectures on how to be
supportive without getting in the way and becoming legally liable etc. On
the last day, we also attended as a class a birth where the was one
of Mary's student's clients, seeing a doula at work doing her thing in real
life.
Being the only student from North Carolina, all other students being
from all over the place, as the class wound down on Monday I asked Mary if
there was a formal or informal network of helping place students in doula
positions, since her brochure had mentioned it but in class she hadn't
brought it up yet.
"All you ever have to do is ask, Trish…" she smiled "…the doula
community is very tight-knit, and any position that comes up all of us and
AAD know about immediately…there's actually one that's been open for some
time in your hometown of Raleigh, for some months now…they're picky as
hell, to be honest…and they don't want a standard doula, either…but with
your degree in physical education and your LMT certification, I really
think you and they have a possible fit." Three days later I was hired by
the Joslyn Reproductive Health Center as their first and only doula, on
salary no less with the proviso that if my doula scheduling ever had slack
times I had to come to the office to help with paperwork and filing and
such. I jumped at it. Danny and all the at Grecian Spa gave me a
blow-out going-away party at a girls-night-only male stripper revue night
at Thee Dollhouse.
Which is how and why my hands right now were psychic poison from
Patti's body and replacing it with healing energy. Working my way down to
her lower back, my oiled hands gently spread her buttcrack as I gently
massaged her poor tired hineyhole which I knew had to be sore from my
own experiences while pregnant. A light sigh exuded from her face burrowed
in the pillows. My trained fingers rubbed her sore tissues, sore from
sitting on the several more times per day than when she wasn't
pregnant. My other hand rubbed and squeezed her asscheeks as my easy anal
massage of her continued for a few moment. Then silently on cue, she
rolled over.
This was our third session together. I had first seen her in the first
week of her seventh month, her last trimester, which is standard for me.
I'd see her bi-monthly until her ninth month, when our appointments would
increase to weekly, then I'd be there for her during the birth of Shaun,
her and her husband's new baby boy.
She had been a little surprised if not a little shocked when my
therapeutic massage of her had included an SRT time too that first session,
but she didn't mind, in fact she thanked me for "doing" her, considering
that her husband Tony had quite making love to her a few weeks before but
still wanted blowjobs for himself, a typical response from many husbands I
hate to say.
Pouring a liberal amount of the scented and warm almost hot massage oil
on her tummy, my hands circled and cradled her essence of womanliness. No,
I'm not or bi, but I do love my job, do love my clients. Working
my way up for a while, my fingers worked her and nipples, pinching
and pulling on them hard for a few moments.
"Have you been vigorously massaging your nipples like I showed you last
time, so you can nurse without pain when Shaun comes?… asked as my fingers
twisted and pulled on them. No response, just a sheepish grin. "…you
really do need to, Patti…better your fingers toughening them up than
Shaun's hungry mouth…" I laughed, we laughed together .
"…I will, Trish, I will start doing my exercises, promise..".
"Speaking of exercises, did you ever talk Tony into doing your pudendal
massages to help and open you up for the big day?"
"Noooope…No…you know how I told you how he feels about that…"
"..it's really not an option for him, Patti…pudendal massage will make
your labor and especially your delivery so much easier…doesn't he care
enough to help you?"
"You know he does, Trish…he's just…he's just…"
"Sqeuamish?"
"Uh-hu…" she replied as we heard the front door open up and Tony bounced
in to see his naked and her equally naked doula massaging his wife's
breasts and nipples in a totally platonic therapeutic scene but one which I
could tell from the quick bulge in his pants was a flash of fantasy from
heaven for him.
"Oh…hi Dear…Hi Trish…" he stammered out. We had met when Dr. Joslyn
had introduced at the clinic, when she was explaining to them what a doula
was and why she thought Patti could benefit from having me as hers.
"I understand you've not been cooperative in helping your out with
her exercises…"
"…I….I just came home 'cause I forgot this afternoon's Powerpoint
presentation was…on a diskette in my study…" his face looking away as he
tried to avoid the subject and eye contact but still peek at us two naked
women on his couch.
"Tony…Tony!…get your butt over here, NOW!" I fussed at him with moderate
volume.
"I've…they're really expecting me at the office in an hour…" he said
over his shoulder as he headed up the staircase to the second floor open
hallway.
I waited for him to come down. My hands continued their roaming over
Patti's body. His footsteps louded down the steps back towards us. I
turned to open legs up so he couldn't miss seeing my open as he came
down the steps, and spread Patti's legs wide open in a lascivious pose too,
my hand rubbing her clit and lips in an almost-crossing-the-line gesture,
she responding to my touch. That did it. Tony stopped dead in his tracks
for a moment, and then step at a time walked closer and closer to us.
Shoving three fingers up her and clamping down on her clit with my
lips, Tony just soaked the faux scene in.
"Okay…okay, Trish…you win…teach me how to do massage…"
"It's pudendal massage, not pussy, Tony, and your needs it because
she's at high risk anyway which means anything you can do to help puts your
wife and son at lower risk during delivery…"
"Okay, okay… what should I do?"
"First, get undressed, then grab an extra pillow and join me."
He didn't try to mask his hard. Slipping a latex glove on his right
hand, he followed my lead of working one, then two, then four, then
eventually his whole hand inside his wife's vagina. Patti was in heaven.
As he massaged her pudenda, I scooted up to massage her and nipples
and helped tweak her clit some. Getting attention from her husband that
had been ignoring her sexually even though pudendal massage isn't sexual it
can be sometimes made her feel so, so much better. Tony leaned up to kiss
his as his handwork inside her continued. I joined their kiss
platonically, and gave his cock a friendly therapeutic pull or two. The
alarm clock in my bag beeped. Time was up for this week with Patti. As I
dressed to leave, Tony was carrying his beautiful pregnant up the
stairs to their bedroom, telling her how much he loved her. God, I love my
job!
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
My next patient was the following afternoon. Charish the receptionist
had a dentist's appointment, so Hera, errrrr, Dr. Joslyn had me fill in
for her answering the phones and doing some light typing. I didn't mind. A
decent fixed salary is better than a commission schedule any day.
Connie was a stay-at-home with a seven-year-old that she
homeschooled. Her husband was some bigwig in State government. While
"Pony", a pet name for her Penny, wasn't any trouble to deliver
the second year of their marriage, they had been trying for all these years
since to conceive which is why and how they wound up going to the Joslyn
Center and while her was going to be in the delivery room with her she
still wanted a doula there with her too, having heard about me while
talking with another patient one day in the waiting room.
Pony had been a rough delivery for her. She had insisted on a vaginal
birth, even after thirty-six hours in labor, and it had almost cost her her
life. She was still determined to give birth vaginally this time too, to a
girl she hadn't decided on a name for yet.
Unlike Patti, Connie and her husband were continuing to enjoy an active
sex life. And unlike Tony until the day before, he really enjoyed doing
pudendal massages and nipple-toughenings on Connie, making erotic games out
of it. The week before, Pony had burst in on them as Jim her husband was
between her legs on the bed naked as she was just working away, his hand
pumping and massaging inside her furiously. Pony had wanted to join in,
being fascinated as any seven-year-old would be, standing there in their
bedroom just staring according to what a somewhat panicked Connie was
half-yelling half-telling me over the phone all my clients having my home
and pager as well as work numbers, but they were too freaked out to do
anything but shoo her out of the bedroom right then. The next day, Connie
tried to explain why Daddy was doing to what he was doing, but Pony
still insisted on "helping" too, pouting all day and refusing to do
her homeschool school work when Connie told her "no".
Not only didn't I see a problem with Pony helping do pudendal massages
on Connie, her mother, but I actually thought and think it would be a
positive bonding experience for them both. Connie was worried about
possible and possible implications, but over the next couple
of days I managed to convince her that in a strictly clinical way there was
nothing either incestuous or about her helping her. If
anything, that along with assisting her through the entire birth
process would help prepare her for her own womanhood in time.
Connie and I hugged each other as Pony walked into room a plastic
tumbler of Coke in hand joining our hug.
"Mom says you're gonna teach me how to help her have my baby sister, is
that right, Miss Trish?"
"Yes, Pony, that's right…I'm going to teach you how to help stretch open her birth canal so your can came out easier when that
times comes, more specifically, Pony…"
"Yeah!…and then I'll have a baby sister!"
"That's right, Precious…" Connie interjected.
"Let's all get undressed so we can get started…I'm going to give a
nice massage all over before we start her birth canal massage first, okay?"
"Can I help you, Trish?"
"Sure, if doesn't mind…"
"Mommy doesn't mind…" Connie whispered.
We helped each other out of clothes, Pony taking them her bedroom to lay
them out so they wouldn't get wrinkled. Unlike many of my clients, Connie
actually preferred using the massage table with extra pillows, so I sprung
it open and fixed it. Even in her eighth month, her girth was hardly that
of many women in their fourth month. Her while two cups bigger
were barely drooping with increased mass, unlike many of my clients.
She laid flat on the padded surface of the massage table as I eased some
extra pillows under her. Beside me as my little helper, a naked
seven-year-old Pony watched in fascination as hot oil was poured over her
Mommy and my hands began their trained work. As I worked my way down to
the small of Connie's back, Pony moved up to try to massage her Mom's
shoulders, but wasn't quite tall enough to reach over to them easy.
"Go get the footstool from in front of Daddy's easychair and stand on
that, that'll be better, Darling" I told Pony.
Connie's anus was hemorrhoidy from her pregnancy. Working around it
before working inside it, Pony worked her way down her mother's back and
was fascinated by what I was doing.
"Would you like to massage Mommy's hinny, Hon?"
"Sure…that'd be neat…can I, Mommy?"
"Sure, Baby…aaahhhhhh" Connie exhaled through the faceport at the far
end of the massage table, relaxing even more to the combined touches of
myself and her daughter.
As Pony continued her slow massage of her mother's asshole, I began a
preliminary pudendal massage, opening Connie's up to my touch, working
two fingers gently inside her, Pony giggling a little when she felt my
fingers through the posterior vaginal wall of her as we both
continued our healing ministrations.
After Connie had two very obvious orgasms, I tugged at her so she'd sit
up on the table. With Pony to my left, I showed her how to roughly rub and
pinch and massage Connie's nipples in a prophylactic therapeutic way. She
hadn't touched her Mommy's nipples since she was little, but mentioned she
definitely remembered being breastfed when she was an infant.
"Would you like to suck on Mommy's nipples now?…" I asked. Connie shot
me a real dirty look but I explained to them both "…your new baby sister's
going to be on them all the time, and they need to be toughened up
before she arrives, so if your doesn't mind, you and Daddy can take
turns and lightly, LIGHTLY biting on them to make them less
sensitive to your new baby sister's them…okay?" asking while
cocking my head slightly in a gesture of inquiry to Connie.
"Well, okay…" Connie huskered with feigned irritation.
"Let's all move to the couch then, so Pony and I can get to them better,
then…"
I normally don't suck on a client's nipples, preferring to do
toughening-up massages on them, but this was a different situation
altogether. Spreading a sheet over the couch to keep massage oil from
staining it, we sat down together, Pony on one side of her and me on
the other. I cupped Connie's left in hand and bade Pony do the
same. My mouth tented over the nipple as my suck of it began. Pony
mimicked me. Pulling back slightly and turning so Pony could clearly see,
I took the nipple between my teeth and lightly chewed and pulled on it.
Pony did the same.
"Oh…ohhhhhh…Trish…Baby, my darling Pony…that feels so…so heavenly!"
Connie almost wept as she climaxed yet again this time from her eroticised
nipple manipulation.
Me and Pony continued our and nipple play of Connie for a few
more moments as my hand slid down to and found a soppy wet from massage oil
previous and vaginal lubrication natural just waiting, just begging
for attention. I mean, within Elysian School Of Massage practice, sexual
release therapy is part and parcel of relating to a client.
"Time to learn how to do a pudendal massage of Mommy, Pony…" I whispered
across Connie's chest to the cute seven-year-old zoned out by the unstated
pleasure of and playing with her mommy's tits.
"Don't you mean 'pussy massage' like Daddy calls it?" Pony asked in all
innocence, Connie and I both just cracking up from her wide-eyed
pronouncement.
"Yeah, we can call it massage if you'd like, Hon'".
Connie leaned back and scooted to the edge of the couch as Pony and I
met between her mother's legs. She smiled at me. I couldn't help what I
did next. I kissed Pony full on the lips. She kissed me back. Connie, so
blissed out and relaxed, saw what we were doing and just smiled. I'm not
bi at all. Kissing Pony was simply the right and appropriate thing to do
at the time. We kissed some more. Pony played with my and nipples
some as we kissed. I didn't mind. Connie made a soft "harrump" sound to
break out attention to each other. Pony touched the outside part of my
triangle pubic patch. I touched hers in happy reply.
"After you show me how to do Mommy, will you do me, too, Trish?"
"That'll be up to Mommy…"
"Mommy…Mommy, please?"
Silence for a moment, then "we'll see".
Connie's smelled like strawberry-scented massage oil I had worked
her with earlier. One then two then four then my entire hand easily slid
inside her. Pony just beamed. Taking her hand in hand with mine, it
wasn't thirty seconds later that Pony had her hand past to her wrist inside
her Mom, working it in and out with ease.
"Since your hand is small, Hon', you need to work around inside
some…twist it a little, move it around a little…that's it…the point is to
help Mommy's open so the baby can come out easier…that's it."
Connie in the meantime had closed her eyes and was somewhere else. Her
breathing would increase for a moment and she'd have an obvious orgasm then
her breathing would subside for a moment before increasing as another
orgasmic wave would hit her. This went on for half an hour or more as my
hands played with Connie's and nipples and I showed Pony how to
massage her Mom's clit while pudendally massaging her.
"Do I have a little button like does, Trish?"
"Yes, Hon', you do, all women do…"
"You said you'd poo-dendly massage me too, Trish…"
"Only if says yes, is what I said" I replied with friendly smile.
"Mommy says 'yes', my darlings" Connie I assumed referring to us both as
she began turning almost pale from her who knows how many back-to-back
orgasm.
Connie slid off the couch and Pony bounced up on it, spreading her legs
wide for her Mom's and mine viewing and touching. Pretty much all pretense
of therapy was gone at that point. I swear I'm not bi, but as Elysian
School teaches you, for your own sanity as long as you know the client
wants it too there's nothing wrong with just going with the flow and
enjoying yourself.
I had seen and therapeutically touched few pre-teen slits before in my
work as an LMT, but none before in a rising tide of non-professional
passion. Connie just stared at her daughter's hairless slit inches away
from her face, her mouth slightly agape. There was no pretense to be lost.
As my hand massaged Connie's beside me, my mouth went right to
Pony's pre-adolescent and I and I and I on it
and her eraser-sized clit. Grabbing my hair unexpectedly, Pony pulled me
face even tighter to her as Connie nudged her way in to join my lapping of
her daughter's tiny cunt, we exchanging kisses with each other as well as
orally ministering to her daughter.
"A finger…I want a finger inside me, Trish, Mom!" our very all of a
sudden grown up little girl, errrrr, patient alouded.
Her hymen was intact but had a slight opening to it. Pretty obvious
that Pony had been experimenting with hairbrush handles or candles or such
things as most little do. Connie shoved her forefinger up her
daughter before my own could react to Pony's half-command. Connie nudged
my head out of the way as she began her frig and cunnilingus of her
precious little daughter. A few feet away, my timer buzzed that my fun was
over. Damn, I was simply too hot.
"Look…Connie, Pony, sweety, I have, h-a-v-e to go soon, I'm sorry, but
the office is expecting me back soon, before the afternoon's over…if I
don't go back soon I'll get in trouble…can I have some fun, will you give
me some fun too real quick, so I can go?" I asked almost begging for
release. Connie and Pony made eye contact for a second before
replying simultaneously, "sure, Trish..sure…"
Taking Pony's place sitting in the couch, I scooted so my tail was
hanging off as far it could so Connie could reach my open better. As
Connie slowly frigged me and on my clit, her aura glowing in its
pregnant colors, Pony and I kissed each other as real, for-real lovers, my
hands brushing the flatness of her seven-year-old chest while she cupped my
tits and pulled at and played with my nipples before bending down to suck
on them.
Then, on some silent cue, Connie and Pony switched places. Connie's
tongue wrestled with mine as Pony's tongue found the boundaries of my
cuntal lips and clitoral hood. I knew Pony had never been with her or
any other woman or before today, but damn she was a click learning.
Her hand slipping inside me fully, I felt my own tent open
completely to accept her warm and heart-felt giving back of pleasure and
passion to me as Connie returned a favor previously gotten and more than
lightly bit and chewed on my nipples.
"Hey…hey!!!…" I playfully fussed at Connie "…I'm not pregnant, I'm not
going to have a kid anytime soon, I don't need my nipples toughened up
any!" Connie snickering a laugh of recognition back at me.
Sliding down, she joined her between my legs her fist taking
the place of Pony's much smaller hand inside me. God. Pure heaven. I
pulled Pony's face tighter to my clit to suck on it harder as Connie began
a full-bore pudendal massage, errrr, fistfuck of me. Legs shaking like a
7.9 on the Richter Scale, I came and came and came again three times real
quick one behind the other in a matter of a couple of moments.
and beaming at me from their mutual kneeling positions
between my legs in gleeful delight of breaking down and through many, so
many barriers that day, an unintended but happy consequence of my being
their, errrrr, Connie's doula, my eyes focused enough to read on my timer
that it was a quarter past five.
"Damn, Connie, Pony…I'm late…I have GOT to go!"
Throwing my clothes back on quickly and settled in for a
tender but very erotic embrace on the couch as I scooted out the front door
almost knocking Jim, their husband and literally over in the
process.
"They're in there on the couch, together, Jim, happy as claims…you'll
have fun to tonight!" he shooting me a puzzled look as I literally ran past
him to my car in the semi-circular driveway after accidentally knocking him
into the front porch guardrail and to his knees for a moment.
"What…what do you mean, mean by that, Trish?" he friendly yelled to me
as I speed away.
"You'll see!!!…you'll see!" I yelled back to him sticking my head out of
the open driver's side window.
I always love my job, but some days I simply LOVE my job, Smile!
-30-
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