Just the Tip: Short stories of love and lust

The Love Doctor

After I opened up Outlook Express on my computer, I quickly scanned the inbox to see if there was a message from Dean_from_Detroit. My heart pounded rapidly as I saw he wrote me again. “Dear Erica:” it began; Erica was the alias I used for my job as an online advice columnist. “I am starting to feel something for a woman, Erica. How should I approach her?”

“ Dear Dean_from_Detroit:” I replied. “Good luck. Just tell her how you feel. I hope things work out for both of you. Keep in touch.” Little did he know that my eyes teared as I typed those words.

Dean was a widower who first wrote me about 6 months ago. His grieving for his deceased wife, who died after valiantly fighting a long illness, was making it hard for him to date. His 2 grown children felt that since it had been 2 years since their mother died, it was time for him to find love again. At the very least, they wanted him to have some joy brought back into his life.

When Dean first wrote me, it was at their prodding. His kids felt he needed encouragement so they urged him to contact me, Erica, “The Love Doctor” after finding out about me from my ads. I had a PhD. in Psychology and after many years of treating patients, I found the internet was a great way to reach a larger audience.

The first e-mail he sent me touched me in a way few others had. His words of love for the wife he missed so terribly but could never have back, his feelings of guilt for contemplating moving on with his life without her.

He explained how he gave up working as a photographer for a major newspaper, traveling constantly all over the globe covering high profile events, to tend to his then-ailing wife. He opened up a photography studio so he could be there for her. They were high school sweethearts and they married young, he was 21 and she was 20. They were married for 26 years and a part of him died with her; he held her in his arms as she drew her last breath.

I sent him my pat answer that life has to go on; that response was posted on my column’s site. What I didn’t expect was Dean to continue corresponding with me. Maintaining my professional distance in my replies, deep down my interest in Dean developed slowly but steadily. I encouraged him to get things off his chest; in time he started telling me more intimate details of the life he had shared with her.

Sexually they were conservative. He had been with some women prior to their being together but hadn’t sowed his wild oats that much. She did go down on him on rare occasions but it wasn’t something she really enjoyed doing. Her soft lips on his growing cock and the way she licked and sucked his balls, gave him immense pleasure. Sadly, it was a chore to her.

He liked licking her wet pussy when she let him. During those times, her legs opened wide and he would lick up and down her moist slit. He watched her face reacting. She would moan and he would probe further inside her while she squirmed. She seemed embarrassed by how intense her orgasms were as she came all over his face. Her wild shaking and loss of control was something that made her uncomfortable.

I didn’t post any of Dean’s messages after that first one; I let him know that whatever he told me after the initial e-mail would not go public. The formality of our salutations to each other belied the closeness I felt for him as time went on. It was just our ritual and so it continued.

He encouraged me to talk about myself, which I did to a degree. I didn’t let on how he had affected me and how much I looked forward to his e-mails.

I confided in him how many men had hurt me since I had a tendency to fall for men who were looking for sex only. Married men I had affairs with gave me a safety net. I knew they were attached so I didn’t fall deeply in love with them. This defense mechanism saved me from further pain.

As my feelings for Dean deepened, I found the strength to stop seeing those men and in fact was concentrating on my work. Hearing he found someone he liked saddened me. I knew I should be happy for him and I was but there was the longing inside me to be with him.

I expected to hear back from Dean, even if it was a goodbye note; I grew upset that he didn’t reply as the days went by. Thinking he was too busy with the new lady in his life to write me, I tried unsuccessfully to block him from my mind. Three months passed without a word. Then one day I received a new message from Dean_from_Detroit. Nervously I started reading it.

“ Dear Erica:” it began. “This is Ann, Dean’s daughter. I hope I am doing the right thing by writing you but my dad had a car accident May 11. He was in the hospital and just got released a few weeks ago. Erica, my dad told us about you. He told us he was going to let you know how he felt, right before the accident. Now he doesn’t want you to know since he is unsure if he will walk again.”

May 11 was the day I wrote him the e-mail, I remembered. “Give me his address. I will be there later today,” I told Ann. As I drove to Detroit from Chicago where I resided, I thought about Dean and how attracted I was to the picture that he forwarded me. I realized though that what made him most appealing was how wonderful a man he is. I knew that no matter what the accident did to his face or body, it wouldn’t make a difference in how I felt about him.

I rang the bell to his house and his daughter Ann introduced herself. She let me know that he was upstairs in his bedroom and led me to him. She told me to wait outside and then she walked in and spoke to him. “There’s someone here to see you,” Ann told him, not giving him the chance to respond.

Ann left the room and I stepped in. Seeing him lying on the bed, he looked tired and a bit scarred but still handsome. “Who are you?” Dean asked me.

“ It’s me, Erica,” I answered. I saw a smile on his face for a second before a worried look crossed over it. “Ann told me what happened Dean. I came as soon as I heard.”

“ She shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t want you to see me like this. I may never walk again. You better go. Sorry you made the trip for nothing,” Dean said. “Please leave.” I started walking but instead of to the door, I walked to where he lay.

“ I’m not going anywhere. I care about you Dean and whether you walk again or not, doesn’t change that.” I took his hand in mine and I could tell he was choked up by my words. “By the way, my real name is Elaine. Nice to meet you Dean.” and with that we both laughed.

I was able to do my work using Dean’s computer. During the day, I set some time aside for my column but made sure that Dean was well cared for. His daughter returned to her job despite her protests that I didn’t have to put myself out. I insisted that her dad was in good hands with either of us but that I wanted to care for him.

Dean and I got to know each other better. As the weeks passed by, Dean grew stronger but he still couldn’t walk. He had no feelings from his lower legs down.

Leaning over to put some food on his bed tray one morning, he reached for me and we shared our first kiss. Our tongues danced together as our hunger for each other intensified. “I love you Elaine,” Dean said, after we pulled apart.

Finally hearing him say the words I hoped he would one day tell me, filled the void in my heart. “I love you too,” I replied. We kissed again, with the urgency of two people in love who wanted to explore each other’s bodies.

“ I can’t show you how much I love you Elaine. I wish I could but…” I silenced him the best way I could think of. Gently I dropped my robe onto the floor and stood naked before him. I lifted myself on his bed and straddled my bushy red-haired pussy over his face. Bending over to his cock, which hadn’t lost any sensations, my hands began softly stroking it.

“ Eat my pussy my love. Please eat me now,” I begged. Stretching out his tongue into my hungry cunt, he twirled it, giving me stirrings I had never felt from the sex I had with others. This was what lovemaking was as opposed to sex. I never understood that before. It wasn’t that his technique was unique though it certainly felt wonderful. What made it different was the love we shared. Every gentle lick of my pussy, every stroke of his throbbing prick, had a special warmth to it.

Lapping up my pussy juices from my gushing slit, made Dean moan. He had missed the taste of a woman and as he smelled my aroma, he quenched his thirst by drinking every bit of my outpouring. My body shuddered as I had orgasm after orgasm in rapid succession. I screamed out as my cum kept shooting into his hungry mouth.

My wet tongue massaged his balls; they were ripe for its touch. “Oh honey. MMMMMMM,” Dean moaned. I continued to lick his balls while stroking his shaft. I opened my mouth to take his heavy balls in. Sucking them deeply, Dean said “Oh my god, Elaine. That feels soooooooo good.”

I continued sucking them with tender loving care then turned my attention to his prick. My tongue licked every inch of his cock, from the base of his shaft to the swollen head. One of my hands squeezed his balls while I started sucking on his long pulsating pole. I knew it wouldn’t be long until he burst and when he emptied a huge load of his hot cum into my yielding mouth, I blissfully swallowed all of it. His sticky cum filled me up and I knew I would want to taste him whenever I could.

I got off of Dean and together we snuggled on his queen-sized bed, working around his limited flexibility. We fell asleep and when we both woke up, we reached out for another passionate kiss. Still hot for each other, I rubbed his limp manhood that didn’t take long to regain its full stature. He managed to finger my cunt, which heightened my desires. Putting his soaked fingers to my lips, I tasted my juices then he did.

Moving my dripping pussy over his throbbing prick, I easily mounted him. I loved the feel of Dean’s member deep within me and I rode it slowly, moving up and down as he watched my tits bounce near his face. He reached out to touch my breasts and I bent over as he took one then the other of my firm nipples between his lips.

We were both moaning loudly. My intense climax generously coated his dick just as his cock erupted into my soaked pussy. Further bursts of cum shot out until we were both satiated. I spread my cunt over his face to taste our mixed juices as I leaned over to his cock, in my favorite 69 position, to lick his hot instrument clean with my tongue. From that night on, we slept in that bed together, making love whenever we could.

Dean was beginning to lose hope that he would get the feeling back in his legs. I was worried too but I didn’t let on. I had started a new routine of massaging his legs daily to keep the blood flowing. I wasn’t sure it would help but I knew it couldn’t hurt.

One day, during an amazing lovemaking session, I wasn’t thinking straight. He had just finished drinking up our juices and I licked up his cum soaked prick. I got off the bed and went to his feet. I began licking them and sucking on his toes. I wanted my tongue and mouth to experience every part of him. “Hey you’re tickling me,” Dean laughed.

“ Sorry Dean,” I replied, when the weight of what had just happened hit home. Dean felt my tongue, he actually FELT me tickle him. We both wept, tears streaming down our faces. I went over to him and we kissed with overwhelming emotions, swept up in the knowledge that he would be whole again. To me he always was.

With time and therapy, Dean regained full use of his legs. Standing by the altar at our wedding months later, I soon joined him to say our vows. No couple was ever happier.

When the minister pronounced, “What God hath joined together, let no man put asunder.” in front of Dean’s children and the rest of our families and friends, we knew nobody would or could ever separate us.