Pussy Charming Pt. 04

What you've missed: I woke up from a coma after a motor cycle crash, to find that my penis could talk, and more than that, when it wanted, it could take control of the rest of me. It was able to sing in a way which it called 'pussy charming' in such a way as to entice nearby females to come and shag me, which it demonstrated for me with a 50 something overweight nurse called Elaine.

After my pussy charming cock continued to provide me with mature, BBW pussy, I started to call it Marlon, because when it's soft it reminded me of Marlon Jackson from the Jackson 5. A nasty encounter with Doris the cleaning lady convinced me that I'd been going wrong lusting after skinny young girls in the past. My recovery continued well, until during an evening session with Elaine the Nurse I asked her whether I'd be able to go home soon. She informed me that first I needed to speak to Dr. McGowan. Elaine had overheard me talking to Marlon several times, and was worried that I was still suffering from my head trauma. She had arranged for me to see Dr. McGowan – the psychiatrist!

Marlon promised me that he wouldn't make me do or say anything bad in front of Dr. McGowan, so that she wouldn't sign my release papers, but I wasn't sure whether I could trust him or not. In the meantime we had a visit from Geraldine the vicar, and Marlon revealed that assholes are good for shagging, but not so good for having a conversation with.

No, I know what you're probably thinking. – so Jamie, let me guess - you had your meeting with Dr. McGowan, who would turn out to be a large lady aged somewhere between 40 and 60, and Marlon made you do or say something stupid, then he got you out of trouble by charming Dr. McGowan's pussy, and giving her a good old seeing to in the time-honoured fashion.

Ah, if only the truth was that simple!

Now, in the interests of truth I probably should reveal that Dr. McGowan was indeed a) somewhere between 45 and 55, and b) rather overweight. And, yes, Marlon was attracted to her instantly. Oh, who the hell am I kidding, so was I. Her hair was obviously dyed a determined black, and scraped back and tied into a severe bun. She was wearing makeup, but not plastered in it, and she wore a pair of gold-rimmed bifocals. Behind these sparkled the most beautiful pair of dark, almond shaped eyes, like Marie Helvin's, or even better, Roseanne Barr's. Her cheeks were rather puffy, but that somehow only added to the attraction of her luscious, sensuous lips. Marlon, as usual, put it succinctly

"Whoo – hoo – now ain't SHE got a cock-suckin' mouth there!"

-Please Marlon – I prayed silently – Not now. Not here. Not with her! –

Dr. McGowan stood up and offered me her hand. She was wearing a plain white blouse and a trouser suit. Oh. My. God. I have always had a fetish for women in white blouses and tight black trousers. Not that I imagined Dr. McGowan's trouser suit had been designed to be quite such a tight fit, but hey, nobody seemed to have told her ass that.

Her handshake was firm, but not unpleasant.

"Ah, . . . James? Please, sit down." She pointed to the chair beside her desk.

Alright, I admit that I was nervous, and that's probably why I said,

"Aren't you going to ask me to lie down on a couch?"

Dr. McGowan allowed herself a hint of a smile before replying,

"Well, you can lie down if you want to Jamie, but that's a little old fashioned. I thought we could start off with just having a little chat."

She patted the chair, and I sat, and then she moved her own chair slightly so that we weren't quite facing each other.

"Sister Biggins thought it might be a good idea if we had a talk. You know that, already, don't you Jamie? Of course you do. " She leaned in closer, then removed her glasses and looked me straight in the eye. God, her eyes were stunning. Marlon was already tenting in my pyjama trousers. I drew my dressing gown tighter into my lap in the hope of concealing it from the doctor.

"Now, I don't need you to tell me anything you don't want to tell me, Jamie. I want you to trust me. So let me tell you a little bit about myself. My name is Julia McGowan, and I am a qualified psychiatric practitioner. I grew up in Dundee, and I qualified in 1987. I've lived and worked in London for the last 25 years, 12 of them in this hospital. Is there anything else you'd like to know about me now, Jamie?"

"Yeah!" shouted Marlon,"ask her if she prefers it in the kisser or in the shitter!"

-Shut up Marlon! – I screamed inwardly – you're not helping! –

Unable to come up with any other response, all I could think of to say was,

"Well, do you want to speak to me because you think I'm crazy?"

"Ah," she smiled, "if I had a fiver for every time someone begins by asking that question. Right – Jamie – now, you have to bear in mind that I've never met you before, and I've only been speaking to you for 5 minutes so I haven't got a great deal to go on, but no, I don't think you're crazy. I do think, on the other hand, though, that you suffered a very serious head trauma, you were in a coma for 45 days, and have been exhibiting some, shall we say it, . . . rather interesting behaviour since waking up."

What was she talking about?

"What are you talking about?"

"Well," she began, picking up her ipad from the desk, and tapping it several times, "let's start with your long and er. . . rather graphic conversations with Marlon shall we? Marlon whom nobody else can see or hear?"

"So you do think I'm going mad, then?"

"Not at all, there might be any number of reasons for your, let's call him an 'imaginary friend' shall we? Then there's your impressive display of priapism since your awakening from your coma."

"Priapism?"

" It is a physiological condition in which the male member remains erect without external stimulus, often resulting in what is commonly thought of as the male equivalent of nymphomania."

-"Say what?" – said Marlon

"I beg your pardon?" I replied.

"In a nutshell, dear boy – since waking up you seem to have been 'shagging the arse off' any poor female who happens to come within a few feet of your room."

How the hell did she know that? – I asked myself.

"Who told you about that?" I spluttered, "was it Elaine?"

"Elaine?"

"Sister Biggins."

"Sister Biggins is a devoted nurse, who knows that her sexual relationship with you breaks every rule of the hospital relating to contact between patients and staff. She knew she was risking her career by telling me about it, but she is so worried about your welfare that she told me anyway."

I couldn't think of what to say.

"By my reckoning, there have been relations with three other nurses, a lady from the canteen and Doris the cleaner. Oh, and I must say, I think you were sailing pretty close to the wind with Geraldine the vicar."

"How the hell. . . "

She turned her ipad to me so that I could witness a video of Marlon pistoning in and out of Geraldine's holy backside.

"We do have to keep head trauma patients under video surveillance. With each day that passes the risk of haemorrhage is reduced, but even so the risk is still a significant one, and in the case of a brain haemorrhage quick response is vital. But don't worry – the footage is all safe with me. I have no intention of using it to hurt the careers of any of the staff, or sending it to the editors of the British Medical Journal. I am not " and here she smiled, "even going to upload it to Youtube."

Dr. McGowan's revelations seemed to have shocked even Marlon, as he had shrunk and was being remarkably quiet. All of which enabled me to think a little more clearly.

"So what do you want me to do?" I asked finally, knowing that although she had issued no threat, the ball was in her court, should you excuse the pun.

"Talk to me. Just tell me what has been going on with you since you woke up from the crash. The truth."

"All of it?"

"All of it."

"You won't believe it."

"Try me."

So I did. I told her everything, the accident, waking up, my talking cock, pussy charming, Elaine, christening it Marlon, the three nurses, the cook and the cleaner, and then shagging the vicar. Her reaction, it must be said, was not what I expected.

"Thank fuck for that!" she sighed, leaning forward and looking me straight in the eye, "I thought it was just me! My pussy's been talking to me for years. I thought I was going mad!"

"What?!"

"I had an accident, back in about 2002."

"What happened?"

"Och, it was so long ago I don't remember all the details. All I know is that it involved a war memorial, a hen party, two bottles of vodka and a tub of swarfega. Not the cleverest thing I ever did."

I picked up her rather pudgy left hand. There was no ring.

"Not your hen party, then?"

"Well, actually, yes. We never got married though. By the time I came round 26 days later he'd fucked off with some skinny bitch from his office, and I was stuck with Katherine Hepburn here. "

"Katherine Hepburn?"

"Sorry, yes, in a certain light my pussy looks-"

"That's fine, I get it. No need to draw me a diagram. So . . . erm . . . this is going to sound weird, but . . . does it have an American accent?"

"It's funny you should ask me that, but no, not at all."

"Thank heaven for that."

"No, she has a German accent."

"You're joking me!"

It was at this moment that Marlon chose to wake up,

"Hooo – eeee, no she ain't! Hey fraulein, y'all lookin' to take care of' some prime bratwurst here!" he shouted.

Dr. McGowan looked down at her crotch.

"Oh God. . . " she murmured, "not now." She looked down at mine,

"Is your. . . Marlon . . . talking to Katherine now?"

"Shit, baby, whyn't you get your German ass over here right now, and let's see what we can do together for international relations!" he screamed.

"Yes, Dr. . . Julia, I'm afraid that he is."

A worried look came over her face,

"But we can't . . . you're my patient. It would be wrong. . . "She stared at my tenting nether regions, " So wrong. So very , very wrong."

Marlon had begun to sing.

"Please," the Doctor murmured, "please . . . I can't risk. . . not with a patient."

I had what I believe is commonly called a lightbulb moment.

"Well. . . if you signed my release forms right now . . . I wouldn't be a patient, would I? So it would be alright, then, wouldn't it?"

The doctor didn't reply, but her fingers flew over the screen of her tablet, and then she said,

"There, you're no longer a patient!"

"Hot damn, yeah!" screamed Marlon.

"Hot damn, yeah!" I screamed.

"Liebe Gott! Das ist wunderbar!" screamed Dr. Julia, and her hands flew up to her hair, which flowed freely once she'd removed the pins holding her bun in place. She removed her glasses, and the resemblance to Roseanne Barr became even more pronounced,

"No, don't!" I begged, as she began to unbutton her blouse. I got up, and walked behind her chair, then reached round, and began to undo the top three buttons, slowly,

"Get the hell on with it!" shouted Marlon.

"Beeile dich!"shouted Dr. Julia, which I can only imagine was Katherine's doing. But just for once, I was going to be in control now. I gently moved my hands inside Julia's blouse, feeling the lacy borders of her bra. I pushed down, further, feeling her soft fullness. She wasn't a monster like Doris, or even as well endowed as Elaine, but her nipples felt harder, and longer and rounder.

"Now, Jamie," she moaned," please now."

I quickly unfastened the rest of her buttons, and she stood, shrugged the garment off her shoulders, and reached behind to snap her bra. I kissed the angry looking red marks where the straps had bitten into her shoulders, and moved my hands down her sides, then around her stomach, and I undid the waistband of her trousers. Grabbing the waistband of her panties I pulled down, down, kneeling as I did so, inhaling the unmistakable perfume of her sweat and lust. As she kicked off her trousers and panties it did occur to me that it might have been helpful if she'd had an old fashioned psychiatrist's couch. But Dr. Julia was nothing if not resourceful. She shouted,

"Achtung!" and with a sweeping movement cleared the surface of her desk, and then lay back on it, her chubby legs waving in the air, and her pussy grinning at me.

"Oh yeah!" shouted Marlon, "Deutschland Deutschland Uber Alles, Baby!"

I decided that Marlon could wait a minute, and, with my hands on her plump breasts I buried my face in her stomach, and moved slowly, inexorably downwards.

"Oooh ja," moaned Julia, "Ja, ja, neuk me mit die zunge!"

"Oh no you ain't!" shouted Marlon, "ain't gonna be no pussy lickin' till I done taken care o' business!" I jerked up as if I had been shot with electricity, and then, as if Julia's pussy was an electro-magnet, and Marlon a rod of iron (which he practically was, right at that moment in time) he slammed into her twat, and began to pump her rhythmically.

"Ein – zwei – drei! Ein – zwei – drei!" Julia offered by way of encouragement.

I grabbed her boobs, and pinched the nipples, then leant forward and suckled them, as Julia squelched to a first climax. All the while Marlon kept pumping on, until he suddenly jerked me backwards, and shot our collective wad over her belly and thighs.

"Now can I lick her pussy?" I asked him.

"Knock yo'self out, asswipe!" he replied. So, given his blessing, I climbed on top of the desk, facing towards Julia's feet, then knelt down, placing my head between her ample thighs, and Julia placed her right hand on my ass, and murmured,

"Ooh, yes. . . yes." English. Not German. So Marlon had taken care of Katherine Hepburn for a while, at least. Marlon was getting bored though,

"Shit, momma!" he exclaimed through my mouth, "don't just lay there! Take me in that cock-suckin' mouth o' yours right now!"

"Jawohl, mein capitan!" she replied. Hmmm – Katherine was back in town, then. So I must be doing something right.

Something was happening. The rising pressure in my balls indicated that I was close to cumming, but Dr. Julia just kept on engulfing Marlon in the exquisite mouth of hers, pumping him expertly until she had swallowed the very last drop of our cum.

"Man," gasped Marlon, emerging, tired and spit covered, "these German girls sure do know how to show a man a good time!"

Something else happened. I lost control of my tongue, which suddenly seemed to be going crazy, buried deep in Julia's pussy.

"Was its los? " she cried, then, "What are you doing? . . . What's happening to me? . . . GOTT IN HIMMELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!"

She fell back on the desk, collapsing into silence.

What the fuck had Marlon done to her?

Well, he hadn't killed her, whatever else. I put two fingers to the side of her neck, and her pulse was racing.

"What have you done?!"

"What her pussy was telling me to do, fool!"

"You speak German?"

"Hell no! I speak pussy! An' that is not a pussy that you want to be sayin' no to neither!"

"Shhhhhhh!" I hissed, "she's waking up!"

She was too. Groggily she pulled herself from the desk, and draped her arms around my neck, steadying herself as she sat up.

"That was. . . I mean for me . . . it was. . . wasn't it? . . . for you . . . I mean. . . "

I just kissed her on those precious lips, and murmured,

"Julia, you are amazing. You are. . . " and words failed me, ". . . amazing."

We dressed in that awkward silence which only occurs between two people who, although relative strangers, have just explored each other as intimately as a man and woman can, and neither has the slightest idea where it is likely to go next. As much to break the silence as anything else, I guess, Julia said,

" You know, I quite think you've worn Katherine out. She hasn't said one word to me since. . ., well since then."

I laughed, and kissed her, and nuzzled her breasts for a moment, but it was fairly clear that physically, we were done. After cleaning herself up as best she could, Julia told me that my release had gone through, and that I could leave the hospital at any time, although I could stay until the following morning if necessary.

I was a little nonplussed at her suddenly becoming so businesslike, and if truth were told, not a little disappointed.

"Well. . . er. . . thanks," I stuttered."Erm . . . can I call you?"

She looked at me, and her almond eyes looked tired, and a little bit sad,

"Sure. . . Look me up. I'm in the book."

With that it was clear that my appointment was over.

Back in my room, I didn't see any point in wasting time, so I dug out my case, and began to pack the few belongings which had been brought into the hospital for me.

"That was a bit odd." I observed to Marlon, more as a way of making conversation than anything else.

"What you talkin' bout?"

"The way she acted just before I left. Like nothing had happened. Mind you. . . " I observed, "She did say that we gave her such a tongue job that it left her pussy speechless."

"Say what?!"

"She said that her pussy hadn't said a word after we brought her off for that last time."

"Don't you never listen to me, dipshit? I thought I tol' y'all – pussy don't never stop talking."

"But . . . she said it hadn't said one word since."

"Pussy still talkin' alright – boy, how she talkin'! But Doctor Fatass, well, she ain't listenin' so good any more. "

So that was it. Whatever had caused Dr. Julia to be able to hear her own pussy, whatever it was that had caused that short circuit to the wiring of her brain to enable her to do that, Marlon had cured it. Or destroyed it. Which meant – and this was another lightbulb moment – which meant that it might be possible for me to undergo a similar cure.

But would I want that to happen?

Dr. Julia hadn't had a choice in the matter. What if it suddenly happened to me too, if I suddenly and without warning lost the power to hear Marlon, and no longer reaped the harvest of his amazing powers of pussy talking?

Gulp.