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Secret Lives and Lusts
by J.T. Benjamin © 2003 

Dr.  Renshaw said, "Martha, you're the picture of health.  A magnificent specimen.  You have the body of a teenager." A lustful smile appeared under his handlebar mustache. "In fact, teenaged girls could only dream of achieving your level of beauty and grace." He twirled the corner of his mustache with his finger and added, "and your desirability."

Martha said, "But Doctor, I have an ache in my loins that simply won't go away."

Dr.  Renshaw said, "How simply tragic.  How are your ...  marital relations?"

Martha looked away. "I'm afraid my husband is getting on in years," she said. "He hasn't filled my ...  needs in quite some time.  It's been days since I've been satiated."

Dr.  Renshaw said, "Why, this is simply alarming.  Your LSMAG charts demonstrate you've got the most highly developed sex drive of any woman in the Western Hemisphere.  Macklin's Theory of Sexual Satisfaction clearly proves that if your womanly needs aren't regularly met, you could go insane! Retinal paleosis could set in!"

"But Doctor, what can I do?" Martha lay back on the examination table, spreading her legs and lifting her dressing gown, exposing her privates.

Dr.  Renshaw began to unbuckle his trousers and he climbed on top of Martha.  He said, "You could achieve satisfaction from ...  other sources."

Martha smiled and closed her eyes as Dr.  Renshaw's massive organ slid into her. "Oh, Doctor! Can I get a prescription for this magnificent medicine?" She arched her back and began to moan.

"As often as I can give it to you," said Dr.  Renshaw.  He started quickly thrusting, with loud grunts coming from deep inside his throat.

Martha said, "Oh, Doctor! Give me a dose of your delicious, sweet medicine! But let me savor it! Slow down! Not so fast!"

"Not so fast," said Martha. "You're driving too fast! What are you driving so fast for?"

"Hmm?" said Martha's husband.  As usual, he hadn't been talking to her, just staring straight ahead in silence as he drove into Waterbury, with the usual faraway look in his eyes.

Martha forced herself to calm down.  Dr.  Renshaw's massive probing instrument faded away like the smoke from her husband's cigarette.  She reminded him she hated the way he drove so fast and the way he was tensing up again.

When they arrived in front of the hairdresser's, Martha reminded her husband to pick up some overshoes and the puppy biscuit, and that he needed to put his gloves on.  He nodded his head but Martha wasn't really sure he was listening to her, as that faraway look had returned to his eyes.

"Fine," she muttered as she entered the hairdresser's salon and he drove away. "Take your gloves off.  See if I care when you catch your death."

Luckily, Martha's regular stylist was available.  Danny was handsome, in a funny way, with his reddish-blond wavy hair and his broad nose, but what made him special was the way he made Martha laugh.  He was like a big child or a clown, always telling jokes and singing silly songs and doing impersonations of movie stars.  Most of all, when Martha talked to Danny, he listened and he sympathized.

Danny said, "I know exactly what you mean, Martha.  My man drives me crazy sometimes, too." As usual, Danny's hands moved with broad, theatrical gestures. "I said to him the other day, ‘Lawrence,' I said, ...I call him Lawrence because that's his name, I said, ‘Lawrence, don't take this the wrong way, but sometimes I just need...more.'"

Martha's eyes were closed again, enjoying the feeling of Danny's strong fingers massaging the shampoo into her hair.  She said, "More what, Danny?"

Danny's voice dropped and he bent over to whisper into Martha's ear. "More than what Lawrence has to offer.  More than what any ... man has to offer."

Martha smiled. "Really?"

Danny said, "Sometimes a man needs ...  a woman.  Especially one yourself."

Martha's smile grew. "Really?"

Danny said, "Sometimes a man's needs can't be satisfied any other way than inside a woman.  Don't you agree, Martha?"

Martha said, "Absolutely."

Danny said, "Martha, I think we need to use our extra special drying machine for your purposes.  It's down in the basement."

Martha said, "Let's go."

There was a bed in the basement.  Danny had Martha on all fours, doing her doggie style, the way she loved it.  The room echoed with the slap-slap-slap of Danny's pelvis against Martha's rear.  Danny was growling and he said, "Martha, you're magnificent! If I'd met you ten years ago I might never have gone over to men!"

Martha was too busy enjoying Danny's massive member inside her to respond, other than to moan and beg for more as she could feel that delicious warm, orgasmic wave wash over her.

A woman's voice said, "Danny! You know the rules!" Martha looked behind her.  Standing in the doorway was a tall, broad-shouldered woman.  She walked around the bed so she could face Martha and Danny.  His cock was still inside Martha's pussy, still throbbing and pulsing.  Mrs.  Drusman, the owner of the salon said, "Danny, you know perfectly well you can't fuck the customers..." a smile overcame her face and she began unbuttoning her dress. "Not unless you're willing to share." She removed her dress and began exposing her breasts.  Danny resumed thrusting.

Mrs.  Drusman bent down and gave a nipple for Martha to suck.  She purred, "Danny's magnificent, isn't he?"

Martha purred back and said, "The best."

Mrs.  Drusman said, "Mister E's salon is threatening to hire Danny away from us! Martha, you simply must demand Danny stay put!"

Martha opened her eyes.  She was in the styling chair again, with Danny feverishly working on her hair.  Mrs.  Drusman stood in front of them.  She was fully clothed.

Danny said, "Martha, tell Mrs.  Drusman if I'm the best I should get paid what I deserve." He and Mrs.  Drusman carried on a mock argument for several minutes.  Martha giggled a couple of times, but otherwise she was silent.

After Martha's hair was done, she walked to the hotel where she was meeting her husband.  As she approached the hotel building's revolving door, she heard a man whisper behind her.

"I must have you," said the voice.

Martha turned around.  She was facing a smallish man, somewhere past forty years old.  He had thick black hair combed straight back, with a tiny little mustache and thick glasses perched on his little nose.  He said, "I must have you now."

"I can't now.  My husband is waiting inside.  He's expecting me momentarily"

"Curses," said the little man. "I've been following you for several blocks.  If I don't have you I will simply die!"

Martha smiled. "Well, we can't have that.  Is there anywhere we could meet for a brief assignation?"

The little man smiled.  He said, "I work at the pharmacy down the block.  Find a pretext to come inside." He turned to leave, then turned back briefly.  He said, "Have you ever been sodomized?"

"Not today."

Martha found her pretext, leaving her husband standing on the curb while she entered the pharmacy to purchase "something." Without a word, the little man led Martha into a storage room, where he had her stand with her palms on the desk.  His hands felt cold as he slid Martha's skirt up and his fingers brushed against her naked skin.  Then he entered her.  The little man had a huge cock that felt like it was splitting Martha in two as he thrust into her tight little anus.

The little man was mumbling filthy words into Martha's ear as he fucked her. "You like this, don't you little slut? You whore! You harlot! This is what you want! Take it! Take this cock the way you want it! Is this what you want?"


"I beg your pardon, Ma'am," said a much younger voice.

Martha was standing at the counter.  The young man behind the counter held up an envelope of headache powder. "Is this what you want, Ma'am?"

"Yes.  Yes, of course." Martha fumbled in her purse for some money and paid for the medicine.

She left the pharmacy.  Her husband was still waiting in front of the building, with that faraway look in his eye again.  Martha sighed.

They said nothing for several blocks.  Martha stared straight ahead, not seeing the scenery go by, not noticing much of anything.

"Puppy biscuit."

Martha said, "I beg your pardon?"

"I said, I got your puppy biscuit.  See?" Walter held up his package. "I wasn't sure if you were wondering if I'd gotten it, but I did."

Martha said, "Walter Mitty! You know, you're not the only one who might be thinking about something important! To interrupt my thoughts with ‘puppy biscuits!' Indeed!"

"Sorry, dear."

Martha said, "It's all right." She stared straight ahead again.  She didn't see the road before the automobile.  She saw Danny's erect cock in front of her face.  She was on all fours again, with Lawrence behind her and Danny in front.  Danny was saying, "You're our little puppy, aren't you?"

Martha yipped like the puppy she was.

Danny said, "I've got a nice, big biscuit for you," and he held his cock out for Martha to take into her mouth.

That was Martha Mitty.  Irresistible, indomitable, insatiable.  To the end.

With the most sincere and humble apologies to James Thurber.  — J.T.  Benjamin.

© 2003 J.T.  Benjamin.  All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

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