The doctor had his way with me--orally, anally and vaginally. But I
forgive him. I just pray the Lord forgives me for liking it so much.

That beautiful late spring afternoon gleamed under its crystal clear blue
covering. The temperature climbed unusually high for that time of year, to
the high eighties. But I felt so sad and blue. It had been exactly one
year since my first true love, Josh, died so tragically in the accident with
the drunk driver. I had remained totally celibate since that fateful day.
I didn’t even masturbate. Sex seemed so meaningless. My vibrator sat
lonely in my dresser drawer under my bras and panties.

I had just returned home for the summer after my freshman year of college.
My mother noticed I couldn’t stop crying and she kept giving me errands to
do to take my mind off Josh on this anniversary of his death. She handed
me a bunch of coupons and a long grocery list, and asked that I hurry back
because my father had invited friends over for dinner.

Because of the heat, I didn’t wear much, just a very loose tank top and
cut-off denim shorts. No bra, but I didn’t think you could see anything.
Who would have thought? I forgot something--two actually.

I drove to my favorite grocery store which I like best because it usually is
not very crowded, particularly on a weekday afternoon. The prices are
slightly higher than the bigger stores, but hey, I had the coupons. It
took me almost an hour to find all the stuff on my list. I crossed off
each item as I put it in the cart and attached the appropriate coupon to the
list. Very scientific. I am quite scientific, hoping eventually to do
graduate work in forensic anthropology.

I got to the check out and, in front of the cart, I reached into it and
retrieved the items, matched them up with the coupons and gave them to the
clerk as she passed them through the scanner. Once, twice, three times I
bent over to reach into the cart.

The man behind me, quite attractive and professional looking in a very sharp
summer suit, surreptitiously gave me the eye. You know, looking, but
trying to look like he is not looking. Doh! Click, click. So now I get
it. Then I thought, the next time I go down for more groceries, do I just
use one hand and put the other hand on the top of my shirt? If I did, he
would know that I know that he got a great boob shot. But then, I think he
knew anyway. I realized that the look on my face must be, had I been a man
in a similar situation, “What? Did I forget to zip up my fly?”

This guy definitely was handsome and oozed testosterone. You can smell it.
Although probably more than ten years older than me, I might have flirted
with him, except for the fact that the only item in his hand was disposable
diapers. Well, I did sort of flirt with him. I lifted up the front of my
tank top and cooed, “Want a look from a different perspective?” Lucky for
me no one else was behind him and the clerk had walked away momentarily to
check a price. Oh my, he turned five shades of red, but I broke the ice
with, “Hey, no big deal, I don’t mind being looked at. Now help me get the
groceries out of the cart.” I laughed and so did he.

I thought that was the end of that, paid for the groceries, pushed the cart
outside, loaded the stuff in the car and took off. There is a deserted
stretch of road on the short cut I took back to the house. I hadn’t been
paying much attention as I talked to a friend on my cell phone. Then I
noticed the car behind me followed much too closely.

As I slowed down abruptly going around a curve, the car smacked me in the
rear. I pulled off onto the side of the road and so did the other driver.
I got out, shaking my fist and steaming. “Oh, it’s you!” I exclaimed in
surprise to the peeping dude from the grocery store. “Nice Mercedes
convertible and nice dent you have in the front now. And look at my
mother’s car! How did you manage to hit me?”

“I’m so sorry, miss, I was talking on my cellular phone to my stockbroker.
Big deal brewing. And you did brake rather suddenly.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not driving a sports car like yours and I have to slow down
on these wicked curves. Accidents happen, I guess. I had one myself six
months ago. Talking on the cell phone when I rear-ended another vehicle at
a red light. I felt so stupid! But it didn’t stop me from yakking on the
phone while driving. Well, do you want to call the police about this, or
what?” I asked.

“No, no, I don’t want to report it to the police, or the insurance companies
either. I’ll pay you cash, right now, for your damages. It looks like a
couple thousand dollars worth to your car.”

“You’re kidding! Those dents and the busted light will cost that much? I
never would have guessed.”

He nodded and pulled out his wallet and handed me a packet of $100 bills.
“Will this take care of it?” he asked.

I never realized $5,000 in $100 bills was less than an inch thick.
“Well…uh…sure,” I stammered.

Walking over to my car, I reached through the open window of the passenger
side to put the money in my purse that sat on the front seat. He followed
right behind me and suddenly pressed me tightly up against the vehicle.
With me pinned and unable to move, he slipped his hands under my shirt.
“You have exquisite breasts,” he murmured appreciatively as he squeezed and
fondled them. “I loved those large aureoles the moment I first saw them
when you lifted up your shirt in the grocery store. Oh, oh, they are
getting bumpy and the tips of your nipples are becoming erect.” I could
tell he was very hard, pressed up against my backside like that.

“What the hell do you expect when you are pulling on them like that, and
quit it!”

“I want to fuck you,” he proclaimed matter-of-factly.

“But, but…I don’t even know you,” I protested. “You won’t rape me. You
don’t look like the type.”

“What type is that? You never went on a blind date? Call this a blind
fuck.”

With me still jammed up against the car face first and unable to free
myself, he unbuttoned my shorts with one hand and slipped the other hand
down my panties. Oh shit! Just my luck.. I was wet. Well, I couldn’t
help it! This had started to get a little exciting in a scary kind of way.

“You’re not going to murder me or anything, are you? I have to get the
groceries home or my mother will be pissed. We are having guests for
dinner.”

“I’m having you for dinner young lady. You are on my menu.”

“Okay, you asked for it,” I stated as assertively as I could. “No wait,
you didn’t ask for it, you are just going to take it, or try anyway.” With
that I pulled away from him with a sudden lurch. Facing him then, I tried
to knee him in the groin. He deflected my aim somewhat as he moved
quickly. I flailed punches at him with both hands. He barely flinched.
I raked my nails across his face and drew blood, kicked him in the shins and
stomped on his foot. None of that seemed to faze him either.

“Why are you doing this?” I screamed, beginning to cry and sob.


“Hey, you’re not turning soft on me are you? You seem like one tough
cookie when you want to be. I want you to fight. That’s half the fun.
There is no part of ‘no’ that I understand.”.

“What, you do this often?” I asked incredulously.

“Only when I encounter a beautiful young bitch in heat who is just dying for
some rough stuff. Who knows, you might even learn something, Little Miss
Smarty Panties.”

“I would have given you my phone number if you had asked,” I whined.

“I don’t want your phone number. I don’t want to date you. I want to
fuck you, I want to fuck your pretty mouth, I want to fuck your cute little
ass, and I want to fuck your hot wet pussy--and without all the preliminary
bullshit.”

“Couldn’t we talk first? Couldn’t you tell me a little something about
yourself? Do you like sports? I’m kind of a sports nut.”

“I’m a gynecologist. I look at and touch pussy all day long. Hundreds of
women have quite willingly let me explore their innermost physical being and
have discussed everything with me, including their orgasms or lack thereof.
I only like sex when women are unwilling participants. I only like it
when I make them cum even though they don’t want me to, or at least they say
they don’t. Putting it in a woman’s every orifice against her will is
extremely erotic.”

Again I started screaming and scratching and punching and biting. “Now
you’re cooking, babe!” he squealed in joy. He threw me over his left
shoulder and walked to the back of his Mercedes, opened the trunk and took
out a blanket and rope. He carried me off into a wooded area near the road
and dumped me on the ground in a clearing. “Don’t bother running,” he
warned, “I’m very fast.”

I did run anyway, and he was very fast just like he said. He tackled me
within twenty yards and as he laid atop me, quickly pulled down my cut-offs
and panties, unzipped his pants and entered me quickly. It happened so
fast. His penis loomed large and menacing and he hurt me and he knew it.
But he only thrust deep inside me once he pulled out. “No, he said,
“that’s not how I want it. You already fought, now I want you to beg.”
When I got a good look at that big cock I thought to myself he just might be
right. I hadn’t had any for a whole year.

The good doctor pulled my shorts and panties the rest of the way off, lifted
my tank top shirt over my head and tossed it aside, and carried me back to
the blanket. Then he tied me up in some strange contortion with the rope,
made of nylon material that didn’t bite into my skin at all. My abductor
tied my hands behind my back and my legs loosely to my hands.

“Before I take care of your hot little snatch, darling, I’d like you to suck
my cock,” he insisted, pulling me to my knees by the hair.

“No!”

“Yes, you cock sucking spoogeslut. It’s not like you really have a choice,
what with your hands tied behind you, now do you? Not to worry, I’ll help
you blow me.”

“You fucking sick psycho pig!” I screamed at him, shaking with fury and
fear.

But he shut me up quickly, pulling me onto his throbbing pulsating manhood.
There wasn’t much I could do but open wide and let him fuck my mouth and
get it over with. Back and forth and up and down he jerked my head on him.
When he was really going good he had one hand on the top of my head, the
other under my chin, lifted up my face and just rammed that big cock as far
down my throat as he could.

When he finally exploded down my throat he let out a yell that sounded like
somebody being tortured. I’m glad I’m not the only one who screams bloody
murder when they get off. He pulled out when I started gagging and shot
his spunk all over my face and rubbed his gushing penis on my lips. When
he got down to the last few little spurts, I opened my mouth again and
slurped on his cock, sucking and licking up every last drop. I hoped that
if I pleased him he would let me live so I put him all the way back in my
mouth until the swelling went down and I felt him shudder and quiver as he
came down from his orgasm.

Then, with cum stuck all over my face and hair, and dribbling out of my
mouth, lying on my back, resting on my elbows with my legs spread, he
yelped, “Perfect! You can call me Doctor if you like. Now I am going to
give you a vaginal examination--with my tongue.”

“Uh…I just had one not long ago. I think I’ll pass.”

“No way, you fucking cum slut.” He gave me a few little licks. “Yum,
yum, you smell and taste wonderful. What do you douche with? I’d like to
recommend it to some of my other patients. Sometimes I wish I could put a
clothespin on my nose.”

I began to moan, not being able to conceal what had begun to resemble
pleasure, but still managed to scream, “I douche with rat poison, you
fucking pervert!“

He laughed and went back to licking my clitoris softly and gently. “Oh my,
and aren’t we getting more than a little wet here. I think you just might
cum in the very near future, even if you don’t want to. No, make that, I
know you will. I don’t think I’ll be needing these,” he commented as he
pulled a handful of small samplers of Vagisal Intimate Moisturizer from his
pocked and tossed them away.

Then he plunged his face back into my very moist triangle. Separating my
wet pubic lips with his fingers, he spread me wide open. First he licked
under my clit and inner labia and occasionally swirled my clit in his mouth.
He drove me crazy! Next he alternated with his tongue, slow flat licks,
and then sucked gently with his tongue.

Soon I squirmed with pleasure. He was way better than any of my
girlfriends, or my first lover, Josh. I didn’t want him to know that,
though, and tried to keep myself under some semblance of control. But
finally I lost it as he licked my hot swollen clit with harder and more
demanding strokes. I started yelling louder than when I was fighting him
off.

Thrusting my hips upward with excitement, I exploded in a powerful climax I
felt from my head to the tips of my toes. “Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!” I
chanted over and over as I squirted juice all over his face. He continued
to lick me gently as I came down from the most wonderful orgasm I had ever
experienced and I’m sure he could feel my entire body shuddering right
through my clit which he still held in his lips.

“Please stop! Please! No more,“ I begged, “not right now.”

“Whatever you say, Little Miss Smarty Panties,” he snapped sarcastically as
he pulled his face away from my soaked and throbbing pussy.

I laughed. His face was all wet and cunt juice ran down his chin and onto
his shirt and tie which he had never bothered to remove. “What are you
going to tell the dry cleaner about the spots on your tie?” I asked coyly.
“That you are a real sloppy pussy eater? Doh!” I laughed again, even
louder.

He smiled sweetly. “Now we are going to have our doctor/patient chat. I
know you have clitoral orgasms,” he said with a smirk. “Did you ever in
your young life ever have a cervical-pubococcygeal orgasm--a vaginal
orgasm?”

“Well, yeah, I know a little bit about Kegel exercises and such. My sister
is a doctor also and she explained some of this stuff to me. I think I
have had vaginal orgasms.”

“What do you mean you think you have had vaginal orgasms? Either you have
or you haven’t. I seriously doubt it owing to the fact that most of your
lovers have probably been young studs who can’t hardly wait to get off.
Now, I’m going to esplain this all to you and I want you to pay attention
very carefully. But first …” He began to lick me again.

Just when he got me started again, he stopped. “Don’t stop! Why are you
stopping?” I know I sounded frantic.

“Are you sure you want me to do this again?”

“Fuck yes, now get to it!”

“Beg.”

“Please?”

“C’mon, you can do much better than that.”

“Would you, please, pretty please, shut the fuck up and eat me again?”

“You’re not angry with me? About abducting you? Or cumming all over your
face?”


“No, no. Paybacks are a bitch. Now eat me again and we’ll be even.
C‘mon, now hurry up. Please! You got me all started again, now fucking
finish it! And why don’t you untie me? You don’t really think I’m still
going to run do you?”

Ignoring me, he went back to incredibly enthusiastic muff diving. Ten
minutes and another great orgasm for me later, the doctor began his lecture
and the show and tell on the subject of vaginal orgasms.

Speaking of telling, you don’t really think I am going to tell you about The
Secrets of Vaginal Orgasms which I learned that afternoon, now do you?
Yeah, right. You can read about it in my soon to be published book. I
will tell you that I had a half dozen or so vaginal orgasms in about an
hour. Somehow I lost count.

I became totally exhausted from the multiple orgasms but the good doctor
still had not had another orgasm yet. “What’s the matter, Honey?” I asked
demurely. “You didn’t cum again. Don’t worry about shooting a load
inside me. I’m on the pill.”

“Oh, I’m Honey now, ‘eh? These positions don’t work for me. No big
deal.”

“Well, it’s a big deal to me. Untie my hands. I’ll give you a real
special blow job instead of you just fucking my mouth. And do you think
you could kiss me? You haven’t kissed me. I’m feeling kind of romantic
at the moment. Maybe we could cuddle for awhile.”

“No fucking way am I kissing you! Not with cum all over your face.
Gargle with Listerine for a week and I’ll think about it. I don’t want
another blow job. I want something else. Your ass. You have a
beautiful ass. I want to fuck your ass.”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I said okay. What fucking part of ‘yes’ don’t you understand?” I rolled
over and leaned up with my ‘beautiful ass’ up in the air. “Fuck my ass,
and make it quick! My mother is going to be so mad I’m not back with the
groceries. The guests are probably eating the dog right about now.”

He started to slip that big cock up my ass.

“Yeow!” I yelled in pain. “Do you think you could please use some of that
Vasigal you threw on the ground?”

He greased it up and I loudly moaned and cried with pain and pleasure as
inch by inch he shoved it in deeper and deeper. When I started to thrash
around, he grabbed my hips and held me firmly.

Oh, he liked this and it wasn’t all that bad for me either, other than it
hurt like hell. I put my hand underneath myself and started to rub my very
raw clit. I got off again one more time, just as he did. It felt like a
jackhammer was up ass as he pounded and thrust and finally spurted until he
spasmodically shot every last drop. I squealed like a stuck pig and he
screamed so loud I think we might have woke the dead.

The doctor got up and straightened his clothing. “You can keep the blanket
and the rope,” he said as he loosened the knots just enough so I could
eventually free myself. “I have several appointments still. More pussy
to deal with.” He just walked away. I heard him drive off back the
direction he came from.

As I freed myself, I debated whether I should notify the police. I
wondered if they would ask if I had orgasms while he did me without my
consent, if that’s what I said he did. How would I reply? “Yes, about
eight or nine times. I lost count.” What had just happened definitely
was hit and run, but hell, I got paid for that didn’t I?

Trying to track down my mystery hit and run gynecologist with the Mercedes
convertible has proved futile. Nobody seems to know anything about him.
I should have taken down his license number I suppose.

I learned an important lesson in life from this experience--if you do
coupons, wear a bra. I still go grocery shopping at that very same store
every chance I get. Now I wear a bra, under my long jacket. I do not,
however, wear anything else under the coat, and when and if I see that
doctor dude again I am going to flash him to see if he recognizes me. I
mean, he is a gynecologist. One would think he should be able to recognize
one pussy from another. I still have his blanket and rope. Who knows,
one day I just might have the opportunity to fuck him without asking. Hit
and run!

What really still bothers me about this experience is the fact that he never
kissed me. Fucked but not kissed, the story of my life. Where has all
the romance gone? If you find it, please let me know.

“Hit and Run” is Part Two of the sexual history of my life. “The Rookie”
which is posted on this site is Part One. I am purging my soul. Telling
of my past transgressions is part of my repentance. Forgive me father, for
I have sinned.