Pussy Charming Pt. 03

What you've missed: 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.

After my pussy charming cock continues to provide me with mature, BBW pussy, I start to call it Marlon, because when it's soft it reminds me of Marlon Jackson from the Jackson 5. A nasty encounter with Doris the cleaning lady convinced me that I'd been going wrong lusting after skinny young girls in the past. My recovery continued well, until during an evening session with Elaine the Nurse I asked her whether I'd be able to go home soon. She informed me that first I needed to speak to Dr. McGowan. Elaine had overheard me talking to Marlon several times, and was worried that I was still suffering from my head trauma. She had arranged for me to see Dr. McGowan – the psychiatrist!

"That's another fine mess you've gotten me into, Marlon!"

"Don't lay that Laurel and Hardy shit on me, you asshole!" he retorted angrily.

"A psychiatrist! A bloody shrink! They think I'm crazy now!"

Marlon sounded thoughtful when he replied,

"Well, talkin' to yo own penis ain't exactly the mark of a sane individual, is it?!"

That was a point. I mean, maybe I was going mad. By all accounts it had been a hell of a crash, and I knew for a fact that I'd been in a coma for 6 weeks. That was bound to have done some damage. But on the other hand, since I'd started my acquaintance with Marlon, not only had he initiated me into the delights of intercourse with older, larger ladies, but he'd made sure that I had a regular supply on which to practice. I mean, if this was madness, then who the hell would be interested in sanity?

What I was interested in, though, was getting out of hospital. It had started to prey upon my mind that I hadn't had a single visitor from outside the hospital since I'd come out of my coma, no family, no friends, and nobody from work, either. Did I still have a job? To be honest being a deputy store manager in Tescos wasn't all it was cracked up to be – and it had never been cracked up to be much in the first place – and it wouldn't be the end of the world if I had to look for something else. It would have been nice to know, though. Whichever way you looked at it I needed to get out, and it looked like I was going to have to impress this Dr. McGowan that there was nothing wrong with me. Now, there was one slight hitch to this plan, as far as I could see.

"Marlon?"

"Do you have to call me that, dipshit?"

"Sorry – but the resemblance is uncanny in a certain light. Marlon. . . you won't. . . you won't do anything stupid in front of Dr. McGowan will you?"

"What you talkin' bout?"

"I don't want to stay here any longer. I . . . I have to get on with my life. I need to find out why my family and friends haven't come to visit me, I need to find out if I still have a job. If you make me do or say anything that makes them think I'm going crazy - "

"Alright, man, I hear you. Don't you worry none. I ain't gonna do nothing that ain't in your best interests – y'all can be sure o'that."

I left it there, but I couldn't put it out of my mind completely. Can your own cock lie to you? I was hoping that I wouldn't find out the hard way, should you pardon the pun.

I had to wait a whole weekend before my appointment with Dr. McGowan, and as it happened I did receive my first ever visitor on the Saturday evening. There was a knock on the door, and then a head popped round and smiled at me, a lady's head. I would have guessed that she was somewhere between 44 and 50. She had straight, dark hair, cut in a shoulder length bob, and her brown eyes were rather pretty, and a little naughty too, albeit that she wasn't wearing a trace of makeup.

"Hello," she trilled, and then stepped into my room, "I don't think we've met. You must be Jamie. I'm Geraldine. I'd thought I'd pop in and say hi while I was doing my rounds. "

She held out a hand, and it was at that moment that I noticed the black collar with the white patch around her neck. She was a vicar! A flipping lady vicar!

"Hot damn yeah!!" shouted Marlon as he rose to new heights within my pyjamas. Geraldine either didn't notice, or was too polite to mention the tenting which was so obvious through my bedsheets. She was a big girl, was the Reverend Geraldine. Not tall, not much over five feet I would have said. But there was a lot of her. She had an ass that just didn't know where to quit, and her boobs jutted out of her black clergyman's top like a continental shelf.

" So how are you feeling, Jamie?" she asked, " I heard that you had quite a nasty bump."

"Hell, I sho' would like to give her a nasty bumpin'!" shouted Marlon.

I couldn't find the words to reply after that, but managed a sickly smile and a little shrug of the shoulders.

"Well, have you started feeling yourself again?"

Was that a deliberate innuendo, I wondered? BY this time she was sitting on the end of the bed, and patted my shins through the covers.

"Never mind, Jamie, " she offered soothingly, "from what I hear you are coming along nicely."

Damn! There she went again!

Marlon hadn't said, or sung a word for at least a couple of minutes, so I couldn't blame him for the thoughts that were going through my head. But a vicar, though?! Wouldn't I go straight to Hell? Couldn't I already go to Hell for what I was thinking? The little devil between my legs seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.

"Time you took some responsibility for yo'self!" he said." You want a piece of this holy lardass, you get it yo'self."

Well – fine! – I thought to myself. Maybe it was time to show Marlon a thing or two, to let him know that I didn't need him to pull the ladies for me.

"Urrmmm. . . Geraldine . . . you look . . . very nice."

"Do I?" she looked surprised at the compliment. Not that I heard much of her reply, as my ears were ringing with the sound of Marlon's laughter.

"Is that all you got, coma boy?!" he screamed. So I turned to Geraldine and said,

"Alright, mamma, why don't you show me them big old titties?!" Somehow it didn't sound right in my own London accent. Marlon screamed so much with laughter that he wet himself slightly.

Geraldine, meanwhile, had gone read in the face,

"I – BEG –YOUR – PARDON?!" she yelled. "WHAT – DID – YOU – JUST – SAY?"

Marlon snapped out of his fit of laughter, and said,

"Now see, this is why I do the drivin'." He took a deep breath, and said, "Hey baby, why yo' woman getting' herself all worked up now? All de man say is that he'd like to see them fine big ole titties o' hers."

Geraldine had stooped still on the bed, and her hand poised in mid air as if she had been just about to slap me, but had thought better of it. She looked down towards her lap, while Marlon continued what must have been a conversation.

"Yeah, I know that, baby, but hey, don't blame him. I guess it's my fault for letting the mouth do the talkin'. Say how long since you got to make some sweet lovin'?"

There was a pause, before he said,

"Get outta town! Momma with an ass like hers an' a sweet talkin' pussy like you shouldn't never be lonely. "

I guess that the lesson of the day was that there's more than one way to pussy charm. Marlon hadn't sung a note, but he was going to work on Geraldine's pussy just the same, and it was working. The naughtiness I'd noticed in Geraldine's eyes earlier seemed intensified.

"You know," she said, in her best Sunday sermon voice,"you really are a little devil aren't you? A naughty little devil."

She left go of my shin, and edged her way further up the bed, until she was sitting alongside my arm. The she reached forward, and began to pull back the blankets. "Seek out the devil – that's what I try to do as a vicar, you know, seek out the devil." She ran both hands down my chest, opening up the buttons of my pyjama top. "Ummm," she murmured, as she kissed my right nipple, biting it slightly before looking up, "no, he's not here. Where could he be?" Her hands brushed the sip of my cock, before she busied herself with the drawstring of my pyjama trousers.

"Oh yes," she exclaimed, " I think we've found him!"

"Pussy time!" shouted Marlon.

She clasped a firm hand around him, and began to slowly draw the skin back and forward. Unable to resist any longer I reached forward, and cupped her breasts through the starchy material of her clergyman's bib.

"Take it off," she murmured, " take it all off." I was only too happy to oblige. She continued devoting all of her attention to my cock, while I, as best as I could, stripped the unflattering clothes from her voluptuous body. She let go of Marlon for a moment, and I kneeled behind her on the bed, and reached forward, clasping her silk clad breasts from behind. I felt the nipples harden, and tweaked them gently, then with my right hand undid the catch on her bra. All the time she was murmuring,

"Oooh, you're the devil, the filthy, dirty devil."

Finally I pulled the silken cups of her purple bra away, and her tits sagged slightly before I clasped them again from behind. At this Geraldine leaned forward onto her knees, , and before I knew it Marlon was back in control. Without knowing that I was even doing it my fingers groped for the gusset of her purple panties, and yanked them aside, and Marlon was suddenly in, right up as far as he could go. God alone knows what that pussy was saying to him, but he was shouting all the time,

"Damn right, Baby. Don't you worry none, I ain't hardly started yet. You gonna get it so hard and heavy you gonna be crying for yo momma!" – and various other terms of endearment.

He wasn't lying either. There was nothing of tenderness or 'sweet lovin' about what we were doing. This was about giving a passionate woman, who had been denied sex for far too long, what her pussy demanded. As she approached her first orgasm, she began to sing in a tuneful soprano,

"Onward Christian soldiers , marching as to WAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

She collapsed onto the bed, and I thought that this was it, but no, Marlon was firmly in control, and he was nowhere near satisfied. He rolled her over on the bed, and I nuzzled on her tits again.

"C'mon baby doll, " he crooned, "y'all know what I want." Evidently her pussy did, and passed on the message to the rest of her. She looked up with that same naughty glint in her eye, and clasped Marlon firmly, pulling him closer. She sat up, and squeezed her shoulders together, making a vast canyon of tit flesh, and Marlon needed no more invitation. We dived in there, and begin to hump her tits, slowly at first, then, as she started to lick the tip as it poked out of the top of the valley of the knockers, faster and faster, until he exploded over her mouth and chin, leaving a dripping cum trail which eventually pooled on her neck to form a rather more unique dog collar than the one she'd been wearing earlier.

For a little while it seemed as if Marlon was spent. But Geraldine wasn't certain.

"Have we exorcised this little devil completely now? " she wondered out loud. "There is only one way to find out." She lowered her mouth onto him, engulfing Marlon, who looked more like Marlon Jackson than ever at this point, and at first I thought he wasn't going to respond. But my Marlon was made of sterner stuff than that, and before I knew it, he was stiff and strong, and ready to give her a mouthful of cream. Or was he? I wondered, because again without my control my hands gently lifted Geraldine's pretty face from him, and my knees shifted round so that I was behind her. Once again I pushed her face down towards the pillow, but this time Marlon's designs were not upon her pussy. I think Geraldine realized this as well, but too late, as she shouted,

"What?! Where are you . . . No! Not my - TILL WE HAVE BUILT, JERUSALEM – IN ENGLAND'S GREEN AND PLEASANT LAAAAAAANNNNNNNNDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Geraldine, being a lady of some class and sophistication, decided it would probably be a good idea to clean the cum from her face, neck, chest and ass before getting dressed and finishing her rounds. She showed a certain sense of humour I hadn't noticed earlier when she referred to what had happened between us as 'fighting the good fight' , and she favoured me with a 'God bless you, my child.' As she left. Well, I will admit here and now that I'd never been much of a churchgoer, but if Geraldine was an example of what the modern Church of England had to offer, then I was converted.

I couldn't help talking about what had happened with Marlon.

"Why doesn't it work for me, Marlon?"

"I already tol' you that. You jus' don't know how to talk to pussy. 'You is lookin' very nice!' Man, that has to be the dumbest thing I ever heard."

" But when I said the . . . you know,. . . show me them big ole titties. . . it didn't work for me like it works for you. Why?"

"No good talkin' to the woman. You gots to talk to the pussy first."

That reminded me of something else,

"That's another thing. You didn't sing this time."

"Didn't need to! I could have done, but she was here, and when I spoke to her, man was she ever ready! Five years! She gone without lovin' for five years!"

"Well , you probably made up for that. Say. . . that was the first time you . . . went . . . well, you know."

He was amused by my squeamishness,

"Up the ass?!"

"ummm – yes. "Then, at a loss as to what to say next, I added,

"Do you talk to. . . um . . . asses as well, then?"

He didn't reply for a moment, seemingly weighing up his words before saying,

"Well, you can talk to assholes, but there ain't a lot of point. All they do is talk shit."

Maybe in honour of Geraldine we kept the Sabbath holy on the next day, and Marlon didn't do any pussy charming or pussy talking. This was just as well, for the next day, Monday, was our appointment with the dreaded Dr. McGowan! And if Marlon didn't keep his word, then I could end up staying in hospital for a very, very long time.