Lily Vincent: A Trip
to the Vagina Doctor, by Christopher Noel
© 2012 Human Color
Press
Erotica, 9142 words
Published in The
United States of America by: Human Color
Books
http://www.HumanColorPress.com
; humancolorpress@gmail.com
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First Ebook Edition.
* * * HUMAN COLOR TEASER * * *
Curious about the sex that comes after the sample ends? Well, it contains the following…
Lily needed cock in her pussy, but where could she find a man daring enough? “I need to get fucked, Mister Doctor,” she whined, as Kenner gave her breathing space by pulling his cock out of her throat and slapping it all over her sloppy young face. “I need penis in my pussy, please!”
“I’m sorry, Miss Vincent,” returned Kenner in a stern tone. “But I’m not putting my cock anywhere near that dirty hole of yours. You’ve got a nasty bad girl’s pussy now from whoring it up, and it’s entirely your own fault.” Lily knew he was right but continued to beg, partly just because she loved begging. Kenner had started to slam her mouth again, however, and so she was reduced to begging in the spaces between choking and gasps.
Where will the doctor find men willing to fuck dirty little Lily? Buy the whole book to find out!
* * * END OF HUMAN COLOR TEASER * * *
“A Trip to the Vagina Doctor”
The waiting room was silent except for the telltale scratching of real nylon as Lily Vincent slowly crossed her legs. Tucking her purse up tight beside her butt, she picked up a year-old National Geographic from the white end table and flipped through to a fascinating article about bats. Oh, you zany flying mammals with your sonar, thought Lily, finding tiny bugs to munch on in the night. I wish I had something like that, only for big cocks! But then, remembering why she was there, Lily thought better of her wish. I might be a little too good at finding cocks already, she soberly reasoned. Lovely young Lily chewed her pale honey hair and bobbed her top leg absentmindedly as she continued to learn about bats, all the while silently fighting the urge to hike up her dress and scratch the holy hell out of her burning, itching vagina.
A few days after disguising herself as a prom fugitive and getting double-stuffed by two anonymous macho strangers in a jack booth at a dirty porno store, Lily had begun to feel all funny between her legs—and not in the normal way that just meant she needed more cock. Her snizzle itched, and there was white stuff leaking out of it that definitely wasn’t stored-up cum. Evidently Johnny, the goomba delivery man who spooged in her twat that night, had given Lily some kind of gross STD. That wasn’t very nice of him, but still, it kind of turned Lily on. Most young ladies would be hopping mad about having their vaginas dirtied, especially when the man who’d done the dirtying probably knew he had an STD and didn’t care, but Lily wasn’t most young ladies. If Johnny had confessed his condition and wanted to use a condom, it would have completely turned her off and utterly broken the hot fantasy of getting used like a helpless sex slave by two stupid older men in the back room of a locked porn shop. Maybe it was because her stunning looks and clever brains made life too easy for her, but Lily simply hated it when men respected her. The fact that Johnny and Joseph, despite her undeniable cultural and social superiority to them, had obviously regarded her as a thing of no consequence, a warm body with no soul, an expendable cumdumpster whom it would be no sin to infect and who maybe even deserved to be infected, felt just perfect to Lily. It was how she’d always thought sex should be between two middle-aged musclebeasts and a pretty petite cocksocket who wasn’t even old enough to buy beer. Just thinking about the prospect of the two apish delivery men laughing and high-fiving over how they’d ruined the precocious pussy of a bad little slut got Lily dripping with a lot more than foul white discharge.
But she wouldn’t be able to score further cock with a nasty hole, and so Lily had made an appointment with the vagina doctor. She would have just gone to the student-health clinic at her college, but she didn’t want it getting around campus that she was a dirty bird. All the jealous fat feminist girls were always talking about how Lily probably had an STD or twelve anyway, and she didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of knowing they were right. Besides, the PC college clinic always assigned female doctors to female students, and Lily preferred male doctors. Stupid bitter feminists with their prattle about how going to male doctors is uncomfortable and demeaning. They’d already ruined everything from frat parties to English class—did they have to ruin going to the doctor too? What attractive girl with a healthy sex drive would ever want to go to a female doctor? Where was the fun in that? Being judged by older men with power is what girls’ vaginas are for!
Well-adjusted young Lily continued to read about bats as the dumpy nurse who sat behind the sliding glass window of the admissions desk continued to stare at her disdainfully. She was fat and old and had hair on her upper lip and wore flat shoes, so she was probably a feminist. She’d hated Lily on sight the second she walked in, and hated her even more after she’d filled out the paperwork on the brown plastic clipboard and established that she was visiting the doctor due to symptoms of venereal infection. Feminists are such hypocrites. If an ugly girl came in with VD, she would probably get a royal welcome and a sympathetic speech about how terrible men are, but apparently that all changes when the girl with the itchy pussy is young and thin and blonde and pretty. Lily could feel the hateful eyes of the fat ugly nurse burning into her as she continued to read, but she just flipped her hair and stuck out her tits and bobbed her sexy skinny leg even harder to make the fat ugly nurse feel even more jealous and worthless and lonely. A man may have jizzed germs up into me and made my hole all messy, Lily thought, but no man wants to jizz in you at all, so ha ha ha. It should be against the law for nurses to be ugly, Lily decided. Nurses are supposed to be sexy for the comfort and pleasure of hard-working men, just like secretaries and flight attendants. Did fat feminists have to ruin all the pretty jobs, just like they’d ruined college?
It was ironic that the ugly nurse was so mad at her today, since by her standards Lily wasn’t even dressed all that sexy. She’d thought it would make a hotter fantasy to come get treated for venereal disease if she looked sweet and innocent, so instead of her normal miniskirts and tank tops and spiked heels, Lily had dressed like a good little housewife in training from the 1950s. She’d worn a navy blue dress with white polka dots that had two wide shoulder straps and a square neckline. It was tight at the waist, but flowy beneath, and came all the way down to her knees—an exorbitantly modest length compared with her normal outfits. It was the kind of quaint good-girl dress that would fly out to the sides and float on the air if Lily were to spin around, but of course she couldn’t do that, for fear it would send thick white vaginal discharge spattering all over the walls. Lily wasn’t wearing any panties, both because she adored going commando whenever possible and because she didn’t want to ruin any of her delicate expensive panties with infected snatch slime. A normal girl would have simply worn panties that weren’t delicate or expensive, but Lily didn’t own any panties like that. Only the best for her prized vagina—well, the best and diseases from strange men. She did, however, wear a white garter belt to hold up her fully-fashioned nude nylon stockings, and the cutest pair of classic bone-white pumps, which had long pointy toes and thin high heels and were cut low at the front and sides to show off plenty of arch and toe cleavage on her smooth tiny nyloned feet. Lily even had a darling blue bow in her long straight hair that matched her dress. Oh, won’t my dirty cooch be a surprise, she thought, looking the way I do! Goodness, she was precious.
When 98-pound Lily slipped one white high heel halfway off the foot of her top crossed leg with the slight sexy sound of suede slipping across nylon and began adorably dangling it from her stocking toes, the fat old nurse couldn’t stand it anymore and vanished from the window, but that didn’t mean Lily was free of attention in the waiting room. In the middle of the row of chairs to her left sat an old man, the lone other person awaiting his appointment that early Thursday morning, and he was very clearly checking out little Lily’s legs. A magazine was open on his lap, but he hadn’t turned the page in quite some time. Indeed, he could barely keep his eyes on his reading for ten seconds, and his glances spent far more time lingering on the comely college babe’s smooth young calves, their lean musculature stressed to perfection by the steep angle into which the high heels forced her small feet. When Lily slipped one of those sweet peds free and began to dangle, his eyes widened, and he dropped all pretense of reading and just stared. Of course Lily knew it, and she didn’t mind a bit. The old man was gross, bald and liver-spotted with a saggy paunch, and barely taller than petite Lily herself, but he was still a man, and Lily Vincent’s business was making men stare.
“My dear,” he began, in a wheezing voice more full of wistful longing than wisdom, causing Lily to look up from her National Geographic, “if I might say so, it’s good to see a young girl wearing those nylon stockings again.” Lily was more than a bit surprised by the old geezer’s boldness. Even young guys were often too intimidated to talk to her, and here was this moribund sack of flesh starting right up, and about her stockings no less, instead of talking about the weather or asking whether she had the time. She couldn’t help smiling at his directness, and at the fact that he pronounced girl as goil. “In my day,” he continued, “the ladies wore them all the time. It wasn’t even a question. But now, the young women your age, the pretty girls I pass on the street, they wear bluejeans, or if they wear a skirt they’ve got the, you know, the crazy wool tights with the stripes and everything. But you’re a real… you’re a breath of fresh air in those stockings. I’m glad to see they’re coming back. They’re coming back a little too late for me,” he laughed, “but still.”
“I don’t know if they’re coming back,” Lily said. “I just like to look nice.”
“Well, that is commendable, young lady,” smiled the old man. “You really made this old fella’s day with those legs, I’m telling you.” Lily thanked him and giggled. He was really laying it on. Lily couldn’t resist the rush of the power over men she had because of her looks. It was like a drug to her. When she tasted a little, she wanted more, even if it meant teasing a gross old man. He probably hadn’t even had a boner in years, and Lily couldn’t help wanting to try and give him one.
“Aww,” she sighed, stretching out her top leg straight ahead and wiggling her toes to make the dangling white pump dance. “Do my legs make you nostalgic, mister?” Lily knew just how much older men liked it when she called them “mister” like a little girl, and she loved to be given the opportunity to do so.
“Oh, Jesus and Mary, yes,” he exclaimed, raising one hand and his eyes skyward. “I tell you, miss, if I was fifty years younger, oh boy. I swear it, if I could be young again for a day, one day, I mean it, at the end of the day—boom—I could die, and no complaints from me. Don’t ever get old, miss. You got a boyfriend?”
Lily didn’t know quite how to answer that. She gave up her pussy right and left, but none of the men were technically her boyfriend. She supposed she shouldn’t say that. “No,” she shook her head, “no, I don’t.” Lily pouted and tried to look a little sad about it, and hiked up the hem of her flowy polka-dot dress a little to show off her knees and a little thigh. She knew a flash of stocking-top and garter might make this ancient man cum in his baggy, hiked-up pants, or even give him a heart attack.
“Oh!” the old man wheezed. “Oh, that’s a crime. I don’t believe it. Are the boys at your school blind? Or you’re just picky?” Lily had to stifle a laugh at the question. She wasn’t picky at all. She was a whore. She was a little college whore, sitting in the doctor’s office with an itchy, infected pussy. Right above those shapely nylon legs the old man liked so much was the diseased fuckhole of a foolish cumslut who’d been spermed up by goons in a porno store, and wouldn’t it surprise him to know that? “I guess I just haven’t met the right guy,” Lily said, and just then the ugly nurse reappeared in the window and called her name.
Lily said goodbye to the old man and stood, straightening out her dress and picking up her purse, and trotted across the waiting room towards the doorway to the examination rooms. “You call me if you ever need a date, sweetie,” the old man laughingly wheezed as a horny parting shot. On the spur of the moment, she decided it would be fun to let this pervy old man know just how sweet she really was.
“Oh, really?” Lily snapped back at him, turning on her heels and placing her hands on her hips like a scolding wife. “You want a date with this?” she asked, her thin eyebrows raised, hiking up the hem of her skirt with one hand and pointing at her shaved and disease-infested snatch with the other. Her crotch was shockingly red and splotchy and sore, and cloudy white discharge hung in snotlike goops from her swollen pussylips. The old man froze and stared wordlessly, and Lily just winked at him and turned to follow the nurse. The poor fellow probably thought he’d just been chatting with a prostitute. But he was wrong. No man ever had to pay Lily to fuck her silly and cum deep inside. She just let them. Although, she now reflected, the idea of taking cock for money was kind of a turn-on. Lily made a mental note that, maybe when she was better, she might devote an afternoon to writing “Blowjobs 50¢” on her face in black magic marker and kneeling behind a dumpster in some alleyway.
The worthless unattractive nurse led Lily back to one of the open doors and ushered her in, telling her to have a seat and that Dr. Kenner would be with her shortly. “Can I get you any water while you’re waiting,” she asked, “or maybe a lollipop?” This was clearly a jab at Lily’s age and youthful appearance, to try and make herself feel better about being old and undesirable.
“Oh, no thanks,” Lily sang sweetly. “I just ate almost a whole pizza, and I’m stuffed.” Except for getting split open by dicks, there was nothing Lily loved better than taunting fat women about how she could eat whatever she wanted and never gain weight. The defeated ugly nurse just sighed and looked down at the boring flat shoes on her stupid fat feet, and shut the door behind her.
The first thing Lily did once she was alone was look through all the drawers and cabinets in the beige metal desk. Lily always looked through the drawers whenever she was alone in a room, be it at a doctor’s office or a private residence. She was proud of this habit, as it reminded her that she couldn’t be trusted, which she found empowering. It was always useful, she thought, to find out people’s secrets, like for example when she was bored of fucking a man but wanted to humiliate him and make him think the breakup was his fault. You can always find something in a man’s desk that will make him feel guilty, Lily was fond of saying. Finding nothing but tongue depressors and rubber gloves inside the metal desk, Lily hopped up on the crinkly paper sheet that lined the padded examination table and waited for the doctor to come in. Alone with no men to tease or ugly women to sadden, she had nothing to think about but the burning and itching between her legs. It hurt, but through the pain she could still feel her usual levels of unquenchable perverted desire fighting to get through. Being saturated with VD meant that Lily hadn’t taken cock in days and days, and it was driving her mad. The fact that she was in a doctor’s office only made it worse, as medical settings always reminded her of the abortion she had after being knocked up by Mindy’s daddy, which made dirty Lily horny as a kitty in her first heat, dragging her ass on the carpet and mrowling at the back door for hot cat cocks.
The doctor came in, surprisingly quickly for a doctor, and greeted her with a plastic doctor smile. Lily found him intensely cute. Dr. Kenner was about forty-five, tall and tan with hairy arms and a thick gold watch. His dark brown hair was streaked throughout with grey, a look that Lily had always loved in men. She’d even once begged a thirtysomething boyfriend to start dyeing his hair grey, so that their age difference would seem even greater. Kenner stepped in front of Lily, towering over her despite the height of the examination table on which she sat, and asked her the reason for her coming in today. He looked her up and down of course, as men always did, but there was less desire and helplessness in his eyes than Lily was used to seeing in the eyes of men, and this too drove her absolutely crazy.