Sex Practice (2 page)

"Well..."

"It's the
finest way to familiarise yourself with your inner cuntal flesh.
Would you do that?"

"No, no I
wouldn't!"

"Oh, dear! I
can see that we're going to have to work a little harder on your
sexual problems. Repeat after me - if I were able, I'd love to lick
inside my cunt and lap up my girl-come."

"I'd love to
lick inside my... my cunt and lap up my... my girl-come."

"Wonderful,
Tina! When you get home, squat over a mirror and examine your
fleshy folds, it'll help you to bond with your cunt. Cuntal bonding
is most important - I do it whenever the opportunity arises."

"Think of the
mess."

"Use a towel.
OK, you mentioned earlier that your husband makes unreasonable
sexual demands - what are they, exactly?"

"He wants to
hang my naked body upside down from chains fixed to my ankles, with
my legs wide open, and use two cucumbers..." Her words tailing off
as shouting and banging resounded throughout the building, Tina
looked at the doctor in bewilderment.

"What on
earth's going on!" Larry gasped, leaping to his feet as the
shouting grew louder and something crashed to the floor.

"Get your
fuckin' 'ands off of me, you fuckin' bitch!"

The obscene
words emanating from reception, Larry forced a smile. "There...
there seems to be a slight problem!" he began hesitantly, his
forehead lined as he shook his head in despair.

"Excuse me,
Doctor Lickman," an exquisite auburn-haired girl smiled as she put
her head round the door.

"What is it,
Brigit? You know I'm not to be disturbed when I'm trying to get my
hands up... when I'm with a client. What on earth's going on out
there?"

"There's a bit
of bother in reception, doctor."

"A bit of
bother?"

"Yes, if you
could come and..."

"Excuse me,
Tina," Larry smiled at his puzzled client, moving swiftly to the
door as screamed expletives reverberated around the building. "I'm
sorry about this, I won't be a minute. I must exert my authority -
it's a burden that comes with the position of proprietorship."

Hurrying down
the hall to reception, Larry turned to his pretty secretary.
"Brigit, what the hell's happening? I was just prising some juicy
details out of that little slut about her sex life when..."

"I don't think
you should call the clients sluts!"

"They're my
clients, so I'll call them what I like! Now, what the hell's going
on?" he cried, entering the foyer to find his receptionist, Monica
Moodie, brawling with a young blonde client. "Monica! What on
earth's happening?" he bellowed, separating the fighting women.
"Miss Peabody, did you smash the pot plant?" he demanded, turning
to the distraught blonde. "I will not tolerate the mindless
smashing of innocent pot plants! It's bad form!"

"Doctor
Lickman!" the young tart cried, adjusting her tatty microskirt.
"That fuckin' bitch attacked me!"

"Do you have
lesbian tenancies?" Larry frowned, turning to Monica. "Do you
normally attack members of your own sex?"

"I didn't
attack her!" Monica returned indignantly.

"You fuckin'
did!"

"Please, ladies!" Larry interceded, brushing back his
dishevelled dark hair as he gazed at Sally Peabody's firm, braless
breasts ballooning her ridiculously tight T-shirt. Lowering his
eyes to her laddered fishnet stockings and scuffed, six-inch, red
stilettos, he frowned.
My God, you're a
dirty little slut
. "What is this all about,
Sally? What are you doing here? Your appointment is for
Thursday."

"Yeah, I know,
but... I 'ave to see you now, Larry! Oh, shit! I mean, Doctor
Lickman."

"She was going
to burst into your consulting room, doctor!" Monica boomed, her
tousled brown bob framing her anger-flushed face. "I had to dive
over the counter and stop her!"

"I weren't
gonna burst in nowhere, you stupid fuckin' bitch!" Sally spat,
poking her tongue out obscenely.

"How dare you
speak to me like that?"

"I'll speak to
you 'ow I like, you cuntless old hag!"

"Well, I have
never..."

"Ladies,
please!" Larry intervened despairingly.

"Huh! She's no
lady!" Monica sneered.

"You ain't no
fuckin' lady neeva!"

"Sally, please
try and curb your disgusting language! Now, what's the urgency to
see me?"

"I'm fuckin'
well pregnant!"

Jesus bloody Christ!
"Er...
uterinus foetus inhabitus?
"

"What?"

"You're
pregnant?"

"Yeah, and
you're the fuckin' fath..."

"Good grief!
Er... go to the waiting room, I'll be with you shortly," Larry
interrupted the girl, his face reddening as he propelled the
shameless slut through the door. "OK!" he grinned sheepishly,
banging the door shut and turning to Monica. "Back to work, the
fun's over!" Chuckling nervously, he tried to make light of the
real mess. "Er... Monica, would you be good enough to clear away
the smashed pot, please? Brigit, would you be so kind as to find
Lily and have her deal with my client while I speak to Miss
Peabody?"

"What, now?"
the girl asked morosely.

"Preferably."

"But..."

"Is there a
problem, Brigit?"

"Well, I was
going to have my tea break and..."

"Clients are
far more important than cups of tea, Brigit!"

"Yes, I
suppose so," the reluctant redhead sighed, wandering down the hall,
her miniskirt revealing the contour of her fleshy rounded buttocks,
her firm youthful thighs.

"Doctor
Lickman!" Monica began, her generous bust heaving, inflating her
navy-blue cardigan. "Do you have to have that despicable female as
a client? Miss Peabody is no better than a common slut who's
crawled out of the filth in the gutter! Never in my life have
I..."

"Don't concern
yourself, Monica!" Larry interrupted the middle-aged prude. "In my
position of proprietor of this practice, I'll decide who to have as
clients. I realize that Miss Peabody is somewhat lacking on the
decency front, a little deficient when it comes to etiquette and
eloquence, but she's my client and..."

"She's a
common strumpet!"

"What's that
smell?"

"Smell?"

"Don't you
have some filing to do, Monica?"

"No, I
don't!"

"Well, some
other office duties, then? We must keep busy. Look at the mess on
the floor. Idle hands make light work."

"No, they
don't!"

"Don't they?
Oh, no of course they don't! Many hands... we must keep ourselves
busy."

"I'm always
busy!"

"Ah, but busy
doing what, Monica - fighting with the clients?"

"Working!"

"Good! Members
of staff such as you keep this place running efficiently."

"I'm the only
member of staff who keeps this place running efficiently!"

"There we are,
then! What's that saying about the Devil and idle hands?"

"I have no
idea. Doctor Lickman, I'm not one to tell tales, but I feel it my
duty to inform you that I caught Brigit bending over earlier."

"Forward or
backwards?"

"Forward."

"Heavenly!
Er... what's wrong with that? She was probably picking something
up. I wonder what it was?"

"She wasn't
wearing any knickers! And her buttocks had pink lines across them!
I think someone must have whipped..."

"Christ, I
must take a look! I mean, take a word... have a word. Er... yes,
I'll have a word with her about it, Monica. She probably had cause
to slip her panties off and rinse them under the tap."

"Disgusting!"

"Were they? Perhaps she'd soiled them?"
Creamed them with cunny juice
.

"Don't you
find it disgusting?"

"I didn't see
them, so it's impossible for me to comment. And I'm not prepared to
hazard a guess as to the state of Brigit's panties."

"No! I mean,
it's disgusting going around without knickers!"

"It's
wonderful! Well, not wonderful, exactly. Er... what's the word I'm
looking for?"

"Disgusting!"

"Oi, Larry!"
Her head peering round the waiting room door, Miss Peabody appeared
agitated. "Are you going to come and talk about our fuckin' kid or
what?"

"Please, Miss
Peabody! I'll be right with you."

"Our kid?"
Monica echoed, her piercing eyes glaring at Larry accusingly. "What
have you done?"

"Done? I've
done nothing! You shouldn't have impure thoughts, Monica - it
doesn't become you."

"She said
our
kid."

"She means
their
kid, her and her boyfriend. One would say
our
kid when referring to one's child.
As in one's and one's partner's child, one would say
our
child, would one
not?"

"No, one would
not."

"Yes one
would. If one had two children, when referring to them one would
say one's and one's partner's two children, would two not... one
would not... I mean, would one not?"

"What?"

"One's sorry -
one seems to have confused one's brain!"

"You're
behaving like a child!"

"I'm
thirty-five."

"That's as
maybe... I know what you get up to, Doctor Lickman! And I'm not
going to stand by and watch you..."

"The phone's
ringing!" Saved by the bell! "As you're an extremely efficient
receptionist, an indispensable asset to the practice, I think you'd
better answer it, don't you?"

"I'm going to
expose you, Doctor Lickman!"

"Expose me?"
I'd like to expose your
cunt... on second thoughts
.

"I know far
more than you realize! I've been offered a job at Gina Cology's
clinic. Unless things change here, I might be tempted to take
it."

"Why don't you
take the job, Monica? You might be happier working for that
inorgasmic slag of a bitch."

"She's a very
nice woman. She runs her practice in a professional manner, unlike
you."

"Yes, and she's losing money because I'm taking all her
clients! Telephone, Monica!"
Bloody
woman!

Slipping into
the waiting room, Larry closed the door to confront his wayward
client. His dark eyes frowned as he scrutinised Sally Peabody's
dishevelled peroxide tresses, her smudged lipstick. Standing with
her long legs apart, her stockinged thighs revealed by her almost
nonexistent skirt, Larry imagined her panties, bulging with her
labia. The ultimate tart, he surmised, watching her take a packet
of cigarettes from her red plastic handbag.

"Now, Sally,
what's all this nonsense about you being..."

"It ain't
fuckin' nonsense! I'm fuckin' pregnant!" she hissed, lighting a
cigarette and blowing smoke high into the air.

"Well, don't
look at me!" Larry returned, nervously straightening his tie and
clearing his throat. "Is it still raining? We're not having a very
good summer, are we? I blame the Chinese, they shouldn't be allowed
to pollute the air with steam from their laundries."

"You fuckin'
well stuffed me up the duff!"

"Shush, don't
shout! And I wish you'd stop swearing, it's unladylike."

"Are you
sayin' I ain't no lady?"

"Yes, no!
Let's be sensible about this, Sally. I mean, it could have been one
of a hundred men - a thousand men, even! A million!"

"I ain't no
fuckin' tart!"

You're the epitome of tarts
. "I'm not
saying that you're a tart, Sally. All I'm saying is... hang on a
minute, we've never copulated."

"Eh? We ain't
never done what?"

"You have a
wonderful way with words, Sally - did you attend the Sorbonne? Have
you considered elocution classes?"

"What? What
ain't we never done?"

"We ain't
never done... God, you've got me at it now! We've never done it,
we've never had intercourse."

"We fuckin'
'ave!"

"Sally, I've
only ever come in your mouth, so how on earth could I be to
blame?"

"I know you
spunked in me mouth, but you done it up me bum-hole a couple of
weeks back!"

"Shush! Don't you know anything? To make you pregnant, I'd
have to spunk up me pussy... I mean, up your pussy. And you know I
would never do that because I don't know where your pussy's
been."
I dread to think
.

"Me cunt ain't
been nowhere! It's always been between me fuckin' legs!"

"No, what I
mean is... oh, never mind. You really should stop swearing,
Sally."

"Why the fuck
should I?"

"Well,
because... look, why don't you go and tell your boyfriend the
unhappy... the happy news?"

"Oh, yeah, I
'adn't thought about that drunken fuckin' bastard! I wonder if 'e's
the fuckin' father?"

"Christ only
knows who the fucking... of course he's the father, Sally."

"Yeah, it
could be 'im - 'e's been givin' me a lot of shags lately."

"There you
are, then. Right, off you go!"

"I don't
suppose you've got time to give me one up me arse?" the girl asked,
provocatively licking her smiling lips. "I like your cock spunking
up me bum!"

"Shush! Monica
will hear you, for goodness sake! As it is, she knows far too much
of my escapades. I have a lot of work to do so... Thursday, I'll
see you on Thursday, as usual."

"Oh, right.
I'll go and tell me boyfriend about the fuckin' brat. Shall I bring
the fuckin' milk bottle and the fuckin' Vaseline with me?"

"Yes, bring
the fucking... I mean... good grief! I'll see you on Thursday,
Sally."