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  • Pussy Charming Pt. 02

Pussy Charming Pt. 02

What you missed in Part 1: 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.

Well, considering that I had been knocked over by a giant tow truck, and only awoken from my coma after 6 weeks to find that my own penis had now taken on a personality of its own, and a voice and vocabulary like a pimp in a 1970's Blaxploitation movie, I can't say that I was unhappy about the way things were turning out.

Now it had a voice and a personality I couldn't keep on calling it 'cock, or 'dick' or 'prick', because it just made me feel self-conscious, so I'd christened it Marlon, after Marlon Jackson, Michael's next oldest brother, who it resembled a bit when it was resting. When Marlon had told me earlier that I wasn't exactly a hit with the ladies because I was too shy, I had reacted angrily, but the fact was that he was actually pretty much right. I was painfully shy, and this in turn made it nearly impossible for me to read the signs that any lady of the female gender might actually not find me physically repulsive. Or as Marlon himself put it,

"Yo problem is, bro, that you just' don't listen when the pussy talkin' to you." Now, though, with Marlon doing the listening for me, it turned out that a lot more 'pussy' was a lot more interested in me than I thought.

The doctors were pretty surprised at how quickly I was recovering from my head injuries once I'd fully awoken from my coma. I wonder how much more astounded they might have been if they'd known about mine and Marlon's escapades with Elaine, the nurse, her colleagues Rita, Susan and Vera, Jan from the canteen, and Doris the Cleaning Lady. Now, grateful as I was for the attention, it did begin to strike me that all of these friendly and accommodating ladies were the wrong side of fifty (with the exception of Jan, who claimed to be 47- when her mouth wasn't full, that was) and all of them were pleasantly overweight.

Doris the cleaning lady was a typical instance of what Marlon was getting up to in the hospital, whether I liked it or not. Oh, don't get me wrong, I liked it alright. Doris used to come in and clean pretty early in the morning, often about 6 am when I was still sleeping. To be honest, she was a little older and a little bigger than the other ladies who had given so generously to my sex appeal, but waking up with a bad case of morning wood, that really didn't matter to Marlon. I awoke to the sound of him singing his 'pussy charming song' , and the sight of Doris winking at me as she removed her overall, pulled her massive T Shirt over her greying hair, and her massive skirt down over her massive thighs. Her breasts reached down across her expansive belly as far as her navel, and I silently cursed the fact that neither of my arms was yet strong enough to lift either of them.

"Blimey!" cooed Doris, just before she clamped her lips around Marlon's already swollen head, "this is a turn up for the books!"

She ran her tongue all along Marlon's peehole slit, and proceeded to give us both the best blow job I'd ever experienced, which suggested that Doris was nowhere near as hard up and frustrated as her appearance might have led you to believe.

I worried that the hospital issue bed would be able to take our combined weight as she lowered her almighty bottom down onto my only too willing face. I poked my tongue in, and began the long and difficult Hunt For Red Clitoris. Judging by her squeals and shudders, and the cascade of Doris-cum I took delivery of only a couple of minutes later, I found it.

All of my liaisons in the hospital were governed by the fact that the ladies in question weren't supposed to be in my room for more than a couple of minutes at a time in the course of their duties, so after giving Doris a truly satisfying facial, and then a quick straight doggy-style, she, dirty cow that she was, put her clothes straight back on without bothering to clean up, and went to finish her cleaning round.

After giving Marlon some time to recover, I tried to put into words what had been going through my mind.

" You know. . . it's not that I'm not grateful for all the . . . pussy . . . and that, only . . . "

"Only what, dipshit?"

Marlon was always obnoxious after he'd just had sex – so he was obnoxious a hell of a lot of the time now.

"Only, well, I can't help noticing. . . all of these women whose . . . pussies . . . that you charm, well, they're no spring chickens, are they?"

"Say what?"

"They're old. Not one of them is under 40, and most of them are over 50. And they're big. I mean not huge – well apart from Doris, I mean, she was a complete heifer – but they're none of them slim, are they?"

Marlon didn't reply for a moment or two. When he did, his voice had taken on an accusing tone.

"So let me get this straight," he said, "after having had just three women in the last 4 years, you now complaining when I'm busting my hump getting you laid once a day? In a hospital? And you're complaining because I ain't yet been able to pussy-charm you a supermodel?"

"I'm not complaining Marlon."

"What you calling me?"

"Marlon. When you're . . . soft . . . you look a bit like Marlon Jackson from the Jackson 5."

"Man, what is wrong with you?!"

"I just thought it sounded more friendly than calling you . . . cock, or dick, or . . . willy. . . or"

"Man, if I could only get me transfer to some other body. Look, you complaining that these ladies are a little wrinkly round the edges, right?"

"Well, not exactly wrinkly . . . and not exactly complaining. . . "

"Well, then you complaining because they a little thick aroun' the middle"

"Well again, I'm not saying that they're fat, but –"

For a moment Marlon flared up to his full height, as a sign of his exasperation, then subsided again.

"Let me ask you something. You ever had a blowjob like that ole walrus Doris jus' give you? Take it from me, you ain't. And them skinny women you had back before you started listening to me, did any of them wrap me up in their big ole titties, and hump me until I creamed all over them like Vera and Sue and . . . who was that other one?"

"Rita."

"Yeah, Rita, and her big ole udders. Them skinny girls ever hump you like Rita's knockers? Like hell they did. You think any of them skinny young girls you used to go chasing around can ever show you the kinda good times these big old gals been only too happy to give you, then you, coma boy, are sadly mistaken."

I stopped talking, and started to give what Marlon had said a little thought. You see, the thing was that when he wasn't being abusive or obscene, which wasn't often, Marlon did actually make some sense. My only long term girlfriend, Kylie, had been fashionably skinny, terribly flat chested, and boring and unimaginative the few times that I'd managed to entice her into my bed. As for the other couple of girls, well, one had been an alcohol fuelled fumble at an office party that had swiftly got out of hand, and was just as swiftly and disappointingly over, while the other, hell, the other had made such an impression on me that I couldn't even remember it.

So, I made up my mind to just keep gratefully accepting what Marlon was providing for me in such abundance, and started to plan for my release from hospital. For the fact was that I'd been becoming stronger, and although my arms were still a little weak, I reckoned that I'd got back enough of my fine motor skills that I could look forward to going home any time soon.

I happened to mention as much to Elaine, during a particularly satisfying evening session.

"I'll . . . miss this when I go home, Elaine. It won't be long now, will it?"

"Umm? Ugghg wurr wurr wa wurr wurrr ." she replied.

"Don't talk while you suckin ma cock, ho!" Marlon shouted through my lips. The obscenities worked just as well as they always did, and Elaine's head started bobbing up and down at double speed. Just as I was approaching the cum event horizon, though, she pulled back, removed her wonderful ass from my face, and rewarded her pussy with the prescription it really needed, a liberal dose of Marlon, right up as deep as he could go.

"Mmmmmm," she moaned, and then, surprisingly, tried to answer my question again,

" No. . . well, physically you're – DAMN – THAT'S GOOD!!!!! – well on the mend now dear, but – OH YES! HARDER! HARDER! – there is just a little bit of an issue – SHAG ME- SHAG ME – SHAG ME NOW! – and I think that Doctor McGowan wants to FUCK! "

"Doctor McGowan wants to fuck?"

" No dear, I meant FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!. . . . . . . Ah, thank you dear. No, I meant Doctor McGowan wants to talk to you before we sign the release forms."

She climbed off Marlon, and then winked, lowered her head, and proceeded to lick our combined cum from him.

"Now that, " observed Marlon to nobody in particular," now that is one Nurse who knows how to take care of her patients."

"Damn straight." I replied. Elaine looked up, and said,

"You see, there it is again. You just did it again."

"Baby, " said Marlon through my mouth, "I do it again and again."

Elaine ignored this, and went through into the bathroom area, returning a couple of minutes later all cleaned up, and dressed.

"James," she said, a concerned look on her face, "James, I asked Doctor McGowan if she'd have a word with you. I'm. . . worried about you, dear."

"Why?"

"Well, it's just . . . well I think you're still suffering from some of the effects of your head trauma. You. . . well, you keep talking to this imaginary friend of yours . . . Marvin or something like that. We've all seen and heard you. And to be honest, some of the things you talk about . . . "

For a moment I considered telling her the truth, but Marlon shouted,

"Keep yo' goddamn mouth shut, dipshit! If they fix yo' head, then you goin' back to famine rations of pussy!" So I said nothing to address the invisible friend accusation, and merely asked,

"Oh. . . so this Dr. MacGowan, then. Is he a neurosurgeon?"

Elaine just tutted,

"No, James. SHE is not a neuro surgeon. " She paused for effect. "She is a psychiatrist!"

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