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Whores Make Great Wives Pt. 02

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Wherein We Learn of a Strange Medical Therapy

{The teller of this tale, Gaspardo Del Tornet, talks of his life experiences. Gaspardo is a French citizen born in Aix-en-Provence of a father who was very strict, being a Sergeant in the French military and born of a French Moroccan mother, who was a baker, specializing in chocolate filled beignets. Gaspardo is now 94 years old and has continued to recounted his life’s adventures as herein dictated to the writer known as Erectus. The interview starts with Gaspardo speaking.}


My first wife Jean, God rest her soul, was, and I’m not ashamed to say it, she was a French street whore. At the worst she may have been the most common of a common street whore who plied her trade among common men. For every man who has a cock, there comes a time when he has need to find a willing chamber in which he can discharge those poisons that the almighty has insinuated in the very spleen of mankind. Above all, my dear wife, Jean De Tormet was a fine person who was not only honest but treated people in the most Christian manner, and God knows, she alleviated the poisons in many a man’s spleen.

Jean used to work the streets back in the 1960’s, that surround the huge Flea Market in Paris, which is still found there on the Rue des Rosiers. Famous the world over for its fine antiques and unique offerings, many of the peddlers and antique dealers who displayed there were her regular customers, and many tourists found her beauty, charms and professional skills most irresistible.

In her day she was one of the most beautiful whores to work the streets. She no doubt would have earned more in a bordello but she didn’t want to work under a pimp or boss, both figuratively or literally. She loved her freedom and always remained independent. Of course, she always dyed her brown hair to a honey blonde, she had big natural breasts with full perky nipples, probably bigger than the ever popular Bardot but with a narrow waist just like Brigitte who she resembled. In the evening she was often mistaken for the starlet, which is ridiculous, what would Bardot be doing whoring on the street under a night lamp? But men live in a fantasy world and Jean had every right to take advantage of their sexual stupidity. But the truth was she was a near look alike, it was uncanny, I must say that whenever we went places together, people would point and often come up to us to ask for her autograph.

Jean was extremely intelligent, she spoke a little of several languages. When approached by foreigners she could get by in sex banter with the Chinese in Mandarin, with Indians in Urdu and with the blackest of Africans in Swahili, she could even trade Brooklyn slang with the Yanks and if she could not communicate with words, she would use sign language. And for those clients who preferred quiet, her face could communicate all the necessary emotions while her mouth did all the work or the preparation for what comes next.

A famous Antiquarian, Lionel DeCampass, who specialized in erotic sculptures, had his office in the back of the Paris Flea Market. From his back office window he could also view those who passed on the street. He was fascinated by Jean, perhaps because she realized every day, in the flesh, those acts that were the subject of his beautiful erotic objects and paintings. When he would see her passing by, he’d tap on the window of his office and motion for her to enter.

Jean knew his proclivities well. She had accompanied him to her hotel room on several previous afternoons. On this occasion it was her opinion rather than her pussy that he sought. He was excited to show her his recent acquisition of a gilt metal statue that contained a beautiful erotic scene hidden within. He had placed the sculptured piece fit on a small table and covered it with a blue cloth. The piece was cast from bronze and gilt so it shone with a bright bright yellow gold in the daylight as if it were a religious relic.

Whe Jean entered he escorted her to the rear of his office, his fingers tugging at her curvaceous emek escort hips he’d stroked on other occasions. Mindful of his caresses, she smiled and said,

“Oh Lionell you are such a bad boy.”

At that comment his face reddened and he squeezed her derriere a little harder. When they reached the rear of the office Jean looked around a bit perplexed until Lionel pointed at the blue cloth. Now focused, he grabbed the cloth and in one motion pulled it free of the sculpture.

At first glance, one could see a maiden in a reclining

pose, most beautifully rendered by the artist. Her graceful hands were clasped behind her head as she lay upon her bed. A prude might have considered the subject risque but it was a most beautiful pose that lifted her full bosom for the viewer to admire.

“Ah yes, Jean said, “it is most beautiful.”

“Wait, you have not seen anything yet.”

Lionel reached behind the work and pressed a hidden button and the upper half of the sculpture unfolded on a hinge like a giant clam shell revealing within a bedroom scene of the same damsel in the throes of passion, lying with her backside pressed against a young soldier, whose military pants were unbuttoned to permit viewing the revealing detail of his large penis which had entered her vagina from below. Here every anatomical detail of their coitus was precisely illustrated.

“So Lionel, is this how you think we should make love, in the same position?”

He kissed her cheek and chuckled,

“Well, isn’t it is a wonderful piece?”

“Of that there is no doubt,” said Jean, you should keep it.”

“Yes, I know, it is quite unique but I’m not running a museum here and I must sell and make room for new inventory.”

The antiquarian put a substantial price on the erotic sculpture and sold it to a visiting German collector in less that two weeks.

During that time Lionel began to wonder if Jean might have the answer to a matrimonial problem that had been bothering him for some time. Lionell had a very fat wife, Irina, a Russian immigrant with a fondness for cake and candy. Her belly and ass were so large as to make entry into her vagina from either the front or the backside most problematic. Therefore, our poor Lionel had no possible chance to enter her from behind as the soldier in the erotic statue had done to his beautiful mistress or to even hope to father a child that he and his wife both dearly desired.

Perhaps Jean might have a solution?

Lionel decided to explain his concern and predicament to Jean, the next time she passed, knowing her knowledge and sexual experience were most profound. Several days later he spotted her passing and rapped strongly on the window to beckon to her, several minutes later she was in his office which now smelled of her wonderful perfume.

“My God Jean, your presence and your perfume are giving me a tent pole here,” and he pointed to his erection.

“It’s a new fragrance of CoCo Chanel, I can see it has had an effect. Do you need some relief, Mon Ame?”

“Well, yes and no, but the reason I called you in here today is to beg your professional opinion. Come let me get you something to drink,” and with arm around her waist he accompanied her to the covered outdoor bar cafe that lay within the market only ten steps from Lionel’s booth.

It was there that he explained in detail his consternation.

“Well,” replied Jean, after listening to his description of his marital predicament, thinking a while with a glass of cloudy Pernod in her hand. She responded as if she were a mathematician,

“I suppose a man would need a penis of at least 30 centimeters inches to get the job done and unless your wife were as agile as a gymnast, even then the result of such a penetration would be in effect, that of only 10-14 cm. Do you think that would that be enough to satisfy her?”

“Quite honestly, my manhood as you, err…well know, is like most men, the usual 12 or 14 centimeters. It is fine for making love with you, and that is one of my greatest pleasures, but I am useless for Irena. I can only satisfy eryaman escort Irena her by plastering myself against her vulva and licking and rubbing her until her screams could shatter the bedroom’s glass window panes.”

Jean pensively responded with cool deliberateness,

“I do have a customer with a very long penis, it is as thin as a snake but when erect I have a bit of pain when he plunges too strenuously as it is even longer than my vaginal canal permits.”

“What kind of man is he, would he know how to be discrete?”

“He is a Medical Doctor, a brilliant Professor at the University. In an article he has written, of which he gave me a copy, he proposes that sexual relations have a healing power and doctors should avail themselves of performing sexual unions with their patients when that patient is without a consort or as is the case with your wife, is physically unable to have a normal rapport. Not only would such an intervention on his part be a fulfillment of the Hippocratic oath, but as I myself can testify, his sexual stamina exceeds most men I have ever encountered. Furthermore although he is in his 50’s his countenance and vigor is of a man of 25.”

“This doctor sounds just like the man we are looking for,”

said Lionel,

“Might you ask if he would, forgive the expression, ‘fill in’ for me.”

And so their conversation ended. They returned to his office where with caution he put a sign saying “closed – will return in 15 minutes” and closed the window shades.

Noticing that Jean still held a half glass of the pale green liquorice drink, she remarked,

“Oh yes, I have a feeling I’ll need something to freshen my breath when we are done,” and with that she placed the glass on the small table as she knelt on the thick Turkish red and brown rug and Lionel unbuttoned his pants.


And so Jean intervened on the behalf of the Antiquarian when she made her customary visit to his bachelor apartment and the good doctor promised to look into the problem.

Dr. Hermes suggested of course that the couple make an appointment to see him at his office. Naturally, the following week they appeared at his medical studio. They explained themselves, naturally making no mention of who had recommended them. Subsequently the wife submitted herself to a lengthy physical examination which in all she found to be rather pleasant due to the Doctor’s careful palpation of her clitorus and his internal massage of her vaginal walls.

The doctor was able to insert his slender hand fully inside her vagina after parting her fatty labial lips and pinch gently her fat encrusted internal clitorus until she could recall the pleasure she found when she was a younger women with the vice for frequent masturbation. The doctor also made the finding that she suffered from what in an older women would be a sign of precocious menopause, which had the effect of limiting her ability to secrete the necessary lubricating fluids to permit deep penetration. He ascribed this deficiency to her fat cells blocking the lubricating ducts.

“Did you wish to have a baby?

“Oh yes Doctor, it is our greatest hope,” said the patient,

“Please call me Irena.”

When the Doctor finished the exam, he washed his thin delicate hands, that had made such a favorable impression on the woman, and asked her if she would be kind enough to retire to the waiting room so he might counsel her husband at length.

At the conclusion of their coloquio, he then dismissed the husband who joined his corpulent spouse and directed the nurse to make them weekly appointments for the next three months.

“Perhaps early appointments would be best,” suggested Lionel.

The next week, when both spouses arrived at his office, the Doctor directed the woman to disrobe and recline upon her back on a novel split gynecological table which permitted her legs to be spread wide apart. Covering her eyes with a surgical mask and a white towel, he dimmed the lights in the surgical salon and directed her husband to sit in a low chair with ankara escort rollers so his head could be positioned at the apex of her legs that remained spread. There he directed the husband with discrete hand signals to lick her vagina until it was well lubricated.

Of couse the wife felt arroused and her clitorus filled with blood and she began to moan and twitch her legs. She let out a rather disappointed sigh when her husband was rolled backward.

Although she could not see, she had keen senses and as a result she could hear the quiet snaps as the doctor unbuttoned his trousers, the rustle as he parted his white surgical gown and then the not unpleasant smell of damp flesh as the Professor withdrew a rather long snake like appendage which resembled somewhat that of a coiled serpent.

With his right hand cupping the back of the husband’ head, he directed the husband to suck upon “the snake” while he extended his left hand between the naked vortex of the wife’s thighs.

While the husband did his best to suck “the snake” into an erect posture, the doctor insinuated his fingers slowly inside the wife’s vagina and in the space of several minutes had placed his whole hand within her corpulent sex organ, much to her pleasure, at which point the husband had succeeded and the doctor’s penis was fully aroused.

No longer hearing the disconcerting slurping sounds, she waited momentarily. With no adieu Dr. Hermes hefted his organ, that now measured a full 30 centimeters into her cavernous well lubricated vagina to her great satisfaction.

While the husband soothed his sore throat with a honey laced goblet of cognac, the doctor proceeded to fornicate with his patient. He continued pumping with great speed, after about two minutes, as recorded on his chronograph, he was ready.

To the husband, it was obvious the medic was ejaculating, as evidenced by the whitish thick viscous fluid that was spilling from her vagina. Expecting this exercise to culminate, he was very surprised when instead of stopping the Doctor picked up speed and continued his endeavor. He did not stop his plunging but continued to the obvious enjoyment of his patient whose moans and noises filled the operating salon. He continued pumping for several more minutes until he came again with great gusto and now covered with sweat he retreated from her contented vagina telling her to raise her hips and stay motionless for at least ten minutes, He then toweled both his brow and “the snake” which slowly turned flaccid until he was finally able to tuck it back inside his trousers, button them up and close his spotless lab coat which in all honesty wasn’t quite as spotless as before his intervention.

Lionel sat mute with wonderment at what he had witnessed. As his wife lay motionless he excused himself to use the bathroom where with difficulty his fully aroused member was finally able to urinate.

And so for three months the couple received their weekly therapeutic treatments. At the conclusion of the treatments, the Doctor sent his bill for 2000 francs which was rather little for the intervention and received payment immediately. He was gracious enough to pass one half of his fee to Jean.

The wife had begun to limit her diet and slowly was regaining the attractive figure that she once possessed. However a swelling of her lower belly, at the termination of the couple’s treatments was diagnosed by her internist as a pregnancy and in the spring of that year the childless couple were blessed with a daughter. They christened the child Libby, to signify the latin word “libido” meaning “wrought through sexual pleasure,” and with his kind and willing permission, they named Dr. Hermes as the child’s godfather.

The Antiquarian was infatuated with the young child and his wife was able to thin down after giving birth, not an easy feat. As a result, sexual harmony returned to their marriage although the husband found her pleasure greatly increased when he wore on his penis a fitted martial aid that attached to the base of his manhood with a leather strap and had the unusual appearance, said his wife, “of a long thin snake.”

Of course both the Doctor and the Antiquarian still had their own needs of Jean. Her proficiency in serving them in all aspects of the sexual arts always afforded them a professional outlet of the greatest pleasure.

The End of Part Two

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