Donna Allen: Three-way nurse

The walls of Maureen's ass-channel clutched and pulled at the fleshy foreskin of Ryan's cock. He rammed his cock in until he had his wiry crotch-hair pressing against her ass.

"Oh, God!" she cried. "Oh, sweet Jesus Christ!"

She began grinding her ass in a frenzy, urging him to fuck her. Smiling, Christie watched his greasy cock pistoning in and out of Maureen's elastic asshole. She patted Ryan's ass. She fondled his swinging balls. Climbing on the bed, Christie opened her thighs in front of Maureen's face and pulled the girl's mouth down to her dripping cunt.

Stretched out on the sofa, one leg rocking to the rhythm of the music on the stereo Christie leisurely sucked oh Oliver Fleming's balls. She gently rolled his balls from one side of her mouth to the other. She popped them out of her lips, and began licking his wrinkled ballsac with her tongue. Wearing only his shirt and tie, one foot raised up on the sofa cushion to make room for Christie's head, Fleming sighed.

"You're very good at that," he said.

Christie purred. She'd come to like Fleming. He really wasn't a bad guy. Sometimes she thought of him as a father-figure. There was something definitely erotic about lying there sucking the balls of a man his age. His ball-sac was loose enough so that she could really get his balls toward the back of her throat. She liked that. She had fantasies about swallowing his balls. She imagined what the newspapers would make of that – nurse castrates Hospital Director. But the difficulty with swallowing his balls was that they'd no longer be there to suck on. Christie liked sucking balls. She liked sucking Fleming's balls best of all! Maybe it was because it turned him into a lamb. It seemed that every time she had his balls in her mouth, he became docile and affectionate. He was really just like her father. She'd never, of course, had her father's balls in her mouth – but she imagined this was what it would be like!

"I've invited Paul Westfield here this evening," Fleming said.

Coughing and sputtering, Christie spit out Fleming's balls and looked up at him in astonishment.

"There, there," Fleming said. "Don't be so upset." He tried pushing his cock-head into Christie's mouth. Some pre-cum dripped out of his cock-slit and covered one of her eyebrows. She pushed his cock away from her lips and looked hurt.

"But, Oliver," she whimpered, "if Paul Westfield sees me here, he'll know something is going on."

Fleming chuckled. "He already knows, my pet. Think of it as a favor. Paul Westfield is the best surgeon we have at the hospital, isn't he?"

"Yes," Christie said. "He certainly is."

"And we wouldn't want to lose him, would we?"

"No," Christie said. "We certainly wouldn't."

"Well, Paul has been depressed since his divorce and I think we ought to bring him out of it. Just think of it as a favor to good old Park Ridge Hospital. You're loyal to the hospital, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Christie said.

"Good," Fleming sighed. "Then it's settled. Tonight, we'll transform Paul Westfield into a happy man! Doesn't that sound nice?"

"Yes," Christie said.

"What are you wearing under that dress? You've been here nearly an hour and I haven't had a look at you yet."

Christie pulled her dress up over her thighs and exposed her bare pussy. It never made sense to wear panties when she visited Fleming. He's sooner or later tear them off. She let her legs fall open to give him a good look at her cunt.

"Delicious!" Fleming said. "I think we're going to make Paul very happy tonight."

Christie was hoping Fleming would take time out for a few laps at her pussy. Sucking his balls had juiced up her cunt, and Fleming had demonstrated more than once that he had an expert tongue and enjoyed using it. There was nothing that turned Christie on more than a man who liked sucking pussy – and knew how to do it?

Unfortunately, Fleming's mind was occupied with Paul Westfield. "We're going out to dinner," Fleming said. "I think I'd better get my clothes on. Paul has to be sort of led into things, you know. I've always had the impression he's a little bit of a prude."

When Westfield arrived, he showed no surprise at Christie's presence. He was a tall, distinguished-looking man with grey hair. He smiled at Christie with a twinkle in his eyes.

"I don't think I've ever seen you out of uniform," he said. "You're prettier than ever."

Christie blushed. She found herself adoring the attentions of these two middle-aged doctors. She wondered how much Westfield really knew about Fleming and herself. She wondered how soon it would be before Westfield would be after her.

Soon enough. Less than an hour later, she was sitting between them in a restaurant and Westfield had his hand on her legs. They kept ordering drinks. They kept talking about the hospital. Westfield's hand kept trying to push itself between Christie's thighs. She kept her legs closed because her crotch was sopping wet with cunt-juice. Even the tampon she had in there wasn't enough to keep her dry. She was so hot, she thought she'd come right there under the table. She finally gave in and opened her legs. He was in the midst of a story about some operation he'd performed. Without batting an eye, his hand moved up and closed over the mound of her wet cunt. She knew he could feel how dripping wet she was, but he gave no sign of it. He just pried open her cunt-lips and dug in, as if handling a bare cunt in a restaurant was something he did every day in the week.

"I think it's time to go home," Fleming said.

Christie heaved a sigh of relief. Westfield pulled his hand from between her legs. Fleming dropped some money on the table, and in a moment they were moving toward the exit.

They had a short discussion about whether they ought to go to Westfield's place or Fleming's apartment. As far as Christie was concerned, they could take her to the nearest alley – as long as they fucked the shit out of her hungry cunt!

They crowded into the back of a taxi and headed for Fleming's apartment. The liquor was having its effect. They were soon cracking jokes and giggling. Before they finished the ride, Christie had a hand in each lap, checking out the bulge of their cocks. Everything checked out fine. By the time they got to Fleming's place, both men had roaring hard-ons!

Once inside the door of the apartment, neither man could keep his hands off her body. While Fleming caressed her tight little ass, Westfield was busy playing with her tits.

In the center of the living room, Christie wrapped her arms around Westfield's neck and drew herself up against his chest. She mashed her lips against his. She was sure he could feel the hard tips of her swollen nipples through the material of her dress. She gyrated her hips against his body. She could feel the hard lump of his cock. As she and Westfield kissed, Christie felt Fleming's hands massaging the cheeks of her ass. As her tongue explored Westfield's mouth, Fleming raised her dress up to her waist to expose her bare flesh.

The cool air caressed her naked ass. She broke away from Westfield and turned to Fleming. She snuggled into his arms. She caught her breath as she felt the heavy mounds of her asscheeks being pulled apart. The tips of his fingers explored her deep asscrack. She moaned softly when he toyed with the tight ring of her asshole. Chuckling at her response, he forced his fingertip into her rubbery ass channel.

With a wry smile at the sight of the Hospital Director's finger deep in the ass of one of the nurses, Westfield crossed the large living room to a well-stocked bar against one of the walls. He listened to Christie's moans as he prepared three strong drinks. She was a tantalizing bitch. He still had the smell of her cunt on his fingers. He hadn't played with a woman's pussy in a restaurant in years!