Natural Insemination Ch. 06

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Chapter 6: A Surprise Visit

(mast, dildo, stud, size, hung)

This is a continuation of the previous chapter of the story “Natural Insemination.” It is recommended the chapters be read in sequence to properly describe the scene and introduce the characters. None of the characters are real, and this is purely a work of fiction with no basis in actual medical fact. Constructive comments and suggestions welcomed.

*

The doorbell rings a mere five minutes after my husband leaves for work. I go to answer it without thinking. I hardly consider who it might be. I mean, who else could it be at 6:30 in the morning? I figure my husband forgot his keys. Maybe the car refused to start.

“Good morning Katie,” Richard surprises me instead.

I jump in astonishment, too shocked to say anything, and for a brief moment unable to accept what my eyes tell me. He seems almost as if a dream, like a figment of my imagination, and then I wonder if I could still be dreaming. I was on my way back to bed when the doorbell rang. Maybe I made it to bed and then fell asleep. I could be sleeping right now. What if I am having some incredibly vivid dream?

“Sorry to surprise you,” His voice pulls me out of my stupor. He seems to recognize my bewilderment, and then apologizes for showing up so early. “I just thought it would be more exciting if I came over unannounced.”

He proceeds to tell me how he comes to give a demonstration. My address he took from the office records, from one of the numerous forms I had to fill out before the doctor would even see me. He offers to show me what we talked about at the office, asks if I would be interested in a type of warm up session, of sorts, a little preview of what will be in store for me. He smiles as he says this, communicating some ulterior motive, and then holds up a briefcase as if to point it out to me.

“Oh, yea, all right,” I stumble my words, unable to form coherent sentences, unable to even think straight. The sight of Richard standing just outside my own house seems surreal. I am reminded of what he did to me, how he made me feel. It feels wrong for him to show up at the same home as where I live with my husband, and then I look past him to confirm my husband really did leave for work. His car is gone. The driveway sits empty. Richard must have parked down the street, I deduce, and watched the house from the concealment of his car. He then came over as soon as he saw my husband back out the driveway and drive off down the street.

“Does that mean a yes?” He pulls me out of my temporary trance with a question. “Or is this a bad time?”

“No,” I don’t want him to leave. “I mean yes,” I try to regain my composure. “What I mean is, why don’t you come in?”

I suddenly consider the neighbors and wonder if any of them might be looking. What would they think of a handsome young man standing at my front door so early in the morning? Especially a man who walks up to the house so soon after my husband leaves for work?

Standing aside, I allow him in, and then again I notice the briefcase. It looks to be an oversized briefcase, almost a suitcase, the kind a professional businessman might take with him for an overnight stay at a hotel. I also notice his attire when he comes in: sweatpants and a collared shirt, the same outfit as the last time I saw him, and then even the time before that. It seems all he wears. He must have a limited wardrobe, but then he really has no need for any wardrobe at all. I think how quickly he pulled down the sweatpants in the exam room, and then think of what remains hidden underneath.

As for myself, I wear a robe over my pajamas. Not the negligee, but more mundane pajamas, the equivalent of an oversized T-shirt and a panty. The thick cotton of the robe covers everything of importance, but I still pull it tighter around me when he comes in. Why? I have no idea! It seems ludicrous considering what he has already seen, what he already did to me. But still, I do it anyway. I automatically do it out of habit.

“Can I get you anything?” I also say out of habit, just as I would for any friend or colleague who might come over to visit. “Maybe a coffee? How about some juice?”

“If you have either orange or apple juice?” He accepts.

“Or breakfast?” I think to offer because of the early hour.

“I already ate,” He steps over to the sofa. “But maybe later. It all depends how hungry you make me.”

I smile at this potential double-meaning of his words. Perhaps I will make him hungry. I suspect he already is. He made me hungry by simply showing up at the front door.

“Then I’ll get some orange juice for you,” I excuse myself and head off into the kitchen.

My hands shake when I pour the juice. I’m excited, even overwhelmed. I can’t believe my luck, and then wonder how much more luck I will have before the morning is out. My plan was to go back to bed after my husband left for work. I always try to grab about an hour or two of additional güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri rest after I prepare his breakfast. My own job doesn’t start until 10:00 AM, when we start to prepare for the noon lunch crowd, and I often work late into the evening. I seldom get a full 8 hours of sleep during any given weeknight. Ten minutes ago I felt tired, but now the handsome-looking man sitting in my living room keeps me full awake.

When I return, I find him sitting on the sofa, making himself at home. The briefcase lies on the coffee table in front. I already suspect what it contains. The thought comes to me when I walk back in. Thinking back to our last talk in the office and then to some of the hints he already provided, I hope it contains toys, that is, big girl toys.

“Here you go,” I step over to hand him the juice.

“Thanks,” He says a single word, takes a sip, and then pats the seat of the sofa beside him.

I obey like a robot. The sofa is small, designed for only two people. My thighs brush against him when I sit down, and it feels good. The briefcase remains closed before me. I’m curious about what it might contain inside. I’m also anxious. I feel like a little girl at her birthday party.

“I brought over a few models to demonstrate,” He takes his time, takes two more sips of the juice, and then sets the glass down onto the table without saying another word. I notice he uses the coaster when he sets down the glass. Very considerate of him, I think to myself, and unusually neat for a guy.

“I hope you don’t mind?” He speaks without a rush, as if he has all the time in the world. “I understand you don’t need to be at work until 10:00 AM?”

I nod my head.

“Then we have over three hours,” He looks at his watch and does a quick calculation. “We don’t have to rush. We can take our time.”

I wish to give him all the time he wants. I don’t mind. I don’t really have three hours either. There’s still the time needed to take a shower and get ready and then also to make the drive, but I elect not to tell him this. I feel too excited to worry about such details. It feels exciting, even erotic to be sitting so close to such a strong and handsome young man, not to mention his ten inch long cock.

“So what’s in the case?” I turn my attention to the briefcase and point. I feel a lot more anxious than he acts. I am excited and want to get started.

“Just wait,” He holds up his hand to slow me down. “First some bad news.”

“Bad news?” I worry.

“We won’t be able to get you into the schedule until the next cycle,” He says with sympathy, like giving me the news of a close relative who recently died. He says I will have to wait through my next menstrual cycle, at least five more weeks before I can begin the treatments. The doctor has a large clientele, and there are only a set number of inseminators available to administer the treatment. The intense nature of the treatment means several males must be made available for each patient. “And us males have a limited supply,” He says this as if a joke.

I smile and laugh, remembering the supply he demonstrated to me in the exam room. Actually, his supply seems close to unlimited. I’d like to see it demonstrated again.

“Which is why I came over myself to give you the news,” He concludes. “And also why I brought over a few toys to make up for it.”

And with that, he opens the briefcase to show me the largest collection of dildos and vibrators I have ever seen. They lay neatly aligned, like a mechanic’s tool set, each with its own indention carved into a black protective foam. More dildos are strapped to the inside of the open cover. There must be at least a dozen in all, and then I do a quick count and come up with twenty. All look so very lifelike and large.

“Oh my!” I take a few seconds to react, sit back, and pull myself away from the erotic sight.

“This is a small collection,” He continues after a long pause to allow me to take in the sight and comprehend what I see. “Here are samples for every occasion; for every mood, for every taste a woman may have. I brought a few samples I thought you might enjoy based on your last two visits.”

I am reminded of my recent visits and all the personal questions he asked of me. I wonder especially about what he felt down there, how he described it, and what he told me about being tight. I think of the dildos and how they could be used to loosen me. Most of them look to be about his size.

He picks one out and hands it to me.

“Big!” I say as soon as I touch it.

“Yes it is,” He agrees. “And very lifelike, not only in appearance but in feel and texture as well, which I’m sure you can feel for yourself.”

“Yes!” I feel exactly what he means. The texture is soft and pliable, just like a real cock. A real cock, that is, in its fully erect state. It even has a bulbous head at the end, again so real, and I feel protruding veins as well. My fingers run up and down its length, and güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri then over the rimmed head too. I feel it and remember feeling Richard. I want to feel the real thing one more time.

“Nice, isn’t it?” He breaks my concentration with his words. “You like it?”

“Very much!” I smile and say, and then I consider how good it will feel inside me, how much fun it will be to pump in and out. It will be sure to give me an orgasm in no time, perhaps several.

“Or perhaps you are more interested in some vibrational therapy,” We exchange objects. His second example is of about the same size. It feels a lot heavier in my hands, which I guess to be due to the batteries contained within. It also appears more functional, more mechanical. No bulbous head. No veins. It is a simple metal cylinder, and then I notice the little switch at the far end.

“Can I turn it on?” I ask hesitantly.

“Feel free,” He offers as though he is no more than a used car salesman letting me take a test drive.

“I think I will,” I giggle and then flip the switch.

The object vibrates less than I expected. For some reason, I thought it might jump out of my hands, but then I suppose it doesn’t need to vibrate by very much. Only a small amount of stimulation would be enough. A real cock wouldn’t vibrate at all.

“I’ve never used one of these before,” I admit shyly as I hold it. “I was never much into, you know, toys.”

“Then it’s about time you started,” He counters. “Most women find them to be highly erotic. They can give many long minutes of satisfying pleasure. Sometimes a woman can be almost obsessive about them.”

I turn it back off. The instrument scares me. It also fascinates me, but mostly scares. I’m not sure if I really want to try it. I fear becoming obsessive, like he says, even addicted to it, like I already feel addicted to Richard.

He hands me a third example, this time going back to a dildo. It looks longer than the first one, and is slightly bent in the middle like a banana. He explains the bend is to give added stimulation. It allows the object to be turned and twisted inside. I don’t know how this will feel, wondering if it might hurt, but then also anxious to find out.

“Are you interested in giving some of them a try?” He seems to read my mind and asks.

“Try?” I ask back. “I don’t know.” I turn shy while holding it. I want to, yes, but I also feel reluctant to try it with a man other than my husband in the room. It feels so dirty, so naughty, but then it also feels so tempting.

“Because I could give you a demonstration,” He makes it even more tempting. “You could even try out several of them and compare.”

I think of comparison shopping. Now he acts like a used car salesman, but a salesman who suggests I take a test drive of the newest models of the year. He could even be a shoe salesman suggesting I try walking in several pairs of shoes to see which one fits best.

I shake my head. “It’s just that I never…” I am tempted but still feel unsure.

“Take your time,” He expresses sympathy. “I don’t want to rush you into doing anything you feel uncomfortable with. I will promise it won’t hurt. I’ve had a lot of experience using them.”

I have no doubt what he tells me is true. I imagine he’s used every toy in the briefcase; some multiple times. I am tempted to use one of the dildos on myself, and then realize he offers to take charge and use them on me. He actually wants to push it in himself! First in, then back out, and then in and out all over again! It gives me a thrill, the thought of another man using me like that. I always kept my own dildo hidden from my husband. He’s never suggested I ever try one.

“I couldn’t!” I surprise myself when I say it. “I mean, this is all kind of sudden!” I realize the problem. It’s still morning, not even 7:00 AM yet. He showed up at the front door unannounced, and then with the briefcase full of dildos and vibrators too. It’s too much for me. I need a few minutes to settle down.

“That’s all right,” He takes the dildo back from me. I’m reluctant to let it go. He probably figures I want to keep it for myself. He can easily guess my intentions. I actually wish he would leave one of the toys behind so I could try it out in private after he leaves.

“Let me show you something completely different,” Richard puts the curved dildo back in its place and hands me the next one in line. It’s the biggest so far. Certainly thicker, and with a larger sized head and a hard rim around the mushroom too. It looks like it might even be larger than he is himself, almost too large to fit inside me, and then I notice the base is hollow.

“It’s a cock extender,” Richard tells me as I look at it. “Can you tell how it works?”

I look at the hole. My finger easily fits inside. I judge the depth, and it looks to go about half-way down, perhaps 5 inches. Suddenly, I understand!

“Oh my!” I say in surprise. I never before saw güvenilir bahis şirketleri such a thing. I never knew such a toy even existed. He says “cock extender,” and that’s exactly what it is. The hole in the end is too large for my finger. It would be too large for him too, but looks just about right for my husband.

“I just thought you might find something like this to be useful,” He suggests. “They are made in a wide variety of different sizes, and they can even be custom fitted if you choose. You might find it to be of use after what you told me about your husband.”

He thinks correctly. I think of my husband using it, and then I think of what it would feel like to have him use it on me. It would certainly extend the length of his cock, and it would extend it a long ways too. Twice as long, I estimate, and it would make him a lot thicker too, maybe even thicker than Richard’s natural self.

“I was thinking perhaps you would like to try out something like this instead,” Richard suggests. “Maybe you would like a demonstration?”

It is tempting, but I have a hard time picturing my husband using such a device. Or rather, I easily imagine him using it on me, but have a hard time imagining him actually agreeing to put it on. He would first need to admit his small size. He would have to come face-to-face with reality and admit the fact he is too small for me. I have a hard time picturing him doing so.

“I don’t know,” I express doubt. “I don’t think, you know, my husband would be willing.”

“Your husband?” Richard asks back in the form of a question. “Actually, I was thinking I could demonstrate.”

This confuses me for a second, but only for the briefest of seconds. Suddenly, I realize what he asks. I realize what he is offering. The handsome young stud sitting beside me is essentially offering me the use of his cock.

Before I have a chance to respond, he raises his hips off the sofa and pulls down his sweatpants. It is just like Dr. Palin’s office all over again. He wears nothing underneath, and I suddenly find myself sitting next to a man bare around his waist.

“Oh my!” I instinctively cover my mouth and jump away. I also look around the room to check for anyone who might be looking. I look for a nosy neighbor peering through a window or someone innocently standing outside the sliding glass window. The curtains to the window stand open. So do the blinds we use to cover the sliding glass door at night. There is no one, of course, not so early in the morning, but I check anyway.

“So if you would like to see how it works,” He spreads his arms across the back of the sofa as if to put himself on better display. He actually acts like he willingly offers himself to me.

I eventually turn my eyes down to take a look at him down there. His naked prick lies open and on display. Still limp, it extends down between his legs far enough to rest on the sofa. It extends down a lot farther than my husband’s, even part way down to his knees, but at least it still points down. Already he looks almost too big for the extender. He looks about the same size as my husband, and then I realize him to be the perfect size to try the extender upon.

“Do you mean?” I hardly believe what he is offering. I can’t even say what I want to ask.

“If you want,” He lets me know I don’t have to say it. He acts as if it is no big deal, like he might have already put the same offer before another woman just a few days ago.

“But do you want me to?” I look at the dildo, and then I look at his flaccid prick. I look back and forth between them, try to estimate his size, then try to estimate the size of the hole in the extender.

“I could show you how it works all by myself,” He offers an alternative choice to me. “But I figure you would more enjoy it yourself, and some first-hand experience would actually be useful.”

Indeed I would enjoy it, and indeed some first-hand experience would be useful. It might even be fun! It would be like slipping a rubber onto a guy, something I haven’t done for many years. Richard’s larger size would make it a lot more enjoyable. And not just a rubber, but a cock extender! I can’t wait!

“Are you sure you wouldn’t mind?” I am increasingly tempted.

“Go ahead if you want to,” He appears to have no problem with me using it.

Again I look at the extender, and then I look down at his cock. I look back and forth, several times, and imagine myself doing it. His soft cock looks to be just about the right size to fit into the extender. It would be a lot of fun to put it on him.

“I guess I could,” I try to sound reluctant while at the same time feel my heart race with anticipation. I smile and probably turn red with embarrassment too. Never before have I ever done such a thing. I never even imagined doing it!

“Then go ahead,” He keeps offering. Still he acts like he is accustomed to women using the extender on him all the time, but I have no idea why any woman would ever need to use it on him.

“It’s just that I’ve never used one of these before,” I remain shy and reluctant. “You just might have to tell me if I am doing it right,” I warn before I do anything at all.

“I’ll walk you through it,” He nicely smiles back. “But I have a good idea you will do just fine all on your own.”

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