Vasectomy Affair

"Good morning. I'd like to book myself an appointment for a vasectomy, please."

Abrupt way to start a story, so I'll go back and give some context. My name is James Lane. I'm thirty-nine years old and I have four children. My son from my first marriage, who I haven't seen since he was four. He'll be sixteen now, living God Fucking Knows Where.

I've been married to my second wife Marie for ten years now. Our marriage is rock solid, we are soulmates and compliment each other in every way. We have three children; my beautiful daughters ages nine, five and two. My one regret is that they don't know their half brother, that I didn't get to raise my son. Some people have suggested that Marie and I try for another baby, try for a boy of our own but we don't want another child. For the last two years we've been using condoms when we have sex but I'm getting pissed off with keep having to stop in the middle of things to pull one on. I want to go back to fucking bareback. I mentioned this to Marie in bed last night and she agreed instantly.

We stayed up until 2am discussing options and finally agreed that I should get the snip. We had enough money put by to go private, quick in and out and as soon as I'm sterile we'd be free to love without risk. So straight after breakfast I made the phone call. Quick and professional, put down the deposit and picked an appointment for two weeks time. The receptionist gave me a quick run down of the requirements; shave and wash your nuts before hand etc and I hung up the phone. I heaved a sigh of relief, two weeks then I'm shooting blanks.

I'd be lying if I said the next few weeks weren't full of nervous anticipation, they were. I don't suppose any man relishes the thought of having a scalpel blade cut into his bollocks nor a complete stranger getting the kind of view of you that's usually reserved for the fifth or sixth date. Both of those apprehensions crossed my mind more than once in the lead up to my appointment. There were other worries to; like what if it didn't work? What if there were side effects? What if I changed my mind after the procedure? I sat up obsessively some nights searching online, using paranoid searches like 'erectile dysfunction after vasectomy' and getting only vague non committal answers to my queries.

The day of my appointment came, my wife doesn't drive so I got the train followed by the bus to the surgery. I was nervous but determined, come hell or high water I was coming out of this building as a sterile man. I approached the reception and identified myself. The receptionist spoke with an apologetic tone.

"Oh Mr Lane, we tried to contact you." I checked my pockets at the same time I felt a sinking feeling in my chest. That sentence never bodes well, my pockets were empty.

"I seem to have left my phone at home." I told the receptionist, hoping that was true. "What's the problem?" The receptionist looked apologetic,

"No problem exactly," she said, "but unfortunately Dr Randall is ill. We can offer your procedure to be completed by Dr Stinner but most of our patients have decided to reschedule for when Dr Randall is back." I frowned.

"Why?" I asked.

"Dr Stinner is a woman." The receptionist explained. I hesitated a moment, I'd been reluctant to have a man handling my junk but a woman? But then I weighed up the fact I was already here and my determination to get this procedure done and over with.

"I'll see Dr Stinner." I told the receptionist. I sat on a chair against the wall and waited. After ten minutes the receptionist told me I could go through and after a quick knock I entered the Treatment Room. Dr Stinner turned as I entered, a beautiful brunette with dozens of freckles across her nose and warm intelligent eyes in a shade of hazel. She started as she saw me.

"James?" she asked with the certainty of recognition. For a moment I stood uncertain and then things clicked,

"Alison?" I asked, she nodded. Taking a step closer, she extended a hand and I shook it.

"Its been a long time." I noted.

"Not since graduation." She confirmed. We'd known each other for close to ten years as we moved through school, not close friends but friendly. I'd had a crush on her for a while in our final year but then she'd dated my best friend for a couple of weeks and then we'd graduated and I'd not heard anything about her since. Apparently she'd gone on to become a doctor and later a urologist. And now she was about to perform my vasectomy. I flushed red as I sat down to carry out the pre-assessment.

Alison smiled at me as she pulled the documentation in front of her.

"Its okay James, the procedure doesn't take long. But we can take our time to answer all your questions. Every other patient this morning cancelled when they heard a woman would be their doctor." That stopped me, I'd been about to ask to reschedule given my prior friendship with her but I couldn't now back out without being rude. We sat for the next thirty minutes, going through the paperwork but also chatting to each other, catching up on our lives since we last crossed paths nearly twenty years ago. I told her I was twice married with four kids. She was also divorced, no children and seemed to live for her work. She confirmed with me that I understood the permanent nature of a vasectomy and that both me and my partner were happy with this decision. Then things got a bit more awkward.

"So it's really important that you ejaculate frequently after the procedure to ensure that you clear any residual sperm. We recommend a minimum of twenty-four times but honestly the more you ejaculate the better the chances of a clear sample at sixteen weeks." I nodded feeling too awkward to say anything. We both signed a piece of paper and then she turned to me.

"Okay," she said, "if you could just take off your trousers and underwear. Then climb up onto the surgical bed." With a slight grimace, I stood up and taking a deep breath, I shoved my trousers and underwear down, exposing my manhood in one swift movement. At that moment, a loud shrill bell started ringing and Alison's face twisted with surprise and maybe fear.

"Fire alarm." She gasped, "There's no drill scheduled, follow me." I yanked up my pants and followed her out into the car park and the pissing rain.

Fucking stupid bastard!I thought to myself nearly three hours later. I was heading home and despite my earlier conviction, I had yet to be sterilised. There had been no fire. Some arsehole, unwilling to stand in the rain, had tried to smoke their fucking cigarette in the toilets and had set off the smoke detectors. Fire brigades had attended, dozens of people inconvenienced just because some wanker didn't want to get wet. Alison had been very apologetic and offered to perform the procedure in two days time. I'd accepted, I'm not sure why, I could have just waited for Doctor Randall to return but when she'd looked at me with those big hazel eyes and offered to see me specially, I hadn't been able to refuse. I got home, explained the situation to Marie and told her I was rescheduled for two days from now. I didn't mention that it was no longer Doctor Randall performing the procedure, nor that Dr Stinner was a woman, nor that she was someone I knew from my past. I don't keep many things from Marie but this just seemed like one of those things best left unsaid.

Marie went to bed early that night, she had an early shift the following day and wanted to get some sleep. I went to bed with her but lay scrolling through my phone by the light of the bedside lamp. I was lying there just aimlessly scrolling through social media when I found myself typing Alison Stinner into the search menu. I found her easily enough. Most of her profile was public. I stayed awake for several hours scrolling back through the life of this woman who I hadn't seen since we were both twenty, overwhelmed by a curiosity I couldn't explain. Her graduation from medical training. Her wedding day, ex husband beside her. Lots of bitter posts six years ago during her divorce proceedings. Then healing and aspirational posts. Then posts where she was clearly moving on. My eyes lingered on several photos of her on a beach trip in a rather scanty bikini. I felt my dick twitch beneath the duvet.

Okay James,I thought to myself,your getting tired. Time for bed.I put the pictures and the reaction I'd had out of my head, switched off the light and went to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up with a serious case of morning wood and the image of Alison at the beach in my minds eye. Embarrassed, I immediately jumped out of bed and got in a cold shower until my erection died down. I got out of the shower dripping wet, shivering and grateful that Marie had already left for work. I gritted my teeth, it had been years since I'd fantasised about another woman, even in my sleep. I got dressed, had breakfast, took the girls to school and nursery. I popped into work to explain I'd need to extend my time off by an extra couple of days. I spent the day doing chores around the house and keeping my mind firmly away from Alison Stinner. Tomorrow I'd have my vasectomy and then I'd probably never see or hear from her again.

The next morning, Marie kissed me as I headed out the door to walk to the train station. Her hand groped my dick through my jeans.

"Good luck lover. Be brave." She murmured. I kissed her again and left, feeling nervous at what was coming. Again I cursed the fucking moron who'd set the fire alarm off just as I'd dropped my trousers. The train ride passed in nervous anticipation as did the bus ride and soon I was back at the medical centre for vasectomy take two. I went into the reception, only to find it empty. I was a little early for my appointment so I decided I'd wait. My appointment time arrived and still no one appeared. Getting up, I pressed the call bell on the desk. A moment later Dr Stinner came out of the treatment room, looking professional if slightly haggard. Then a warm smile broke on her face.

"James, it's good to see you. Sorry, the receptionist is out with the same illness as Dr Randall and all three of our nurses. It's just me here today. Fortunately you're my only patient as we usually don't do procedures on Fridays, I fit you in specially after the incident on Wednesday. Would you like to come through?"

She led me into the treatment room and closed the door behind us. The door clicked shut with a loud noise in the silence.

We quickly reviewed the paperwork from last time, fresh signatures on all the dotted lines and within five minutes I was dropping my trousers and underwear again. The cold, conditioned air struck my nuts and I felt goosebumps break out on my skin. I lifted myself onto the surgical bed and stretched out on my back. Dr Stinner approached the table holding a bottle of antiseptic fluid and some surgical wipes.

"Okay so the first thing I'm going to do is sterilise your scrotum and surrounding areas to minimise the chance of infection." She told me. She applied some of the antiseptic fluid to a wipe and then began wiping tenderly around my crotch, first she sterilised my perineum, then carefully wiped over each testicle and around the base of my penis. The fluid was cold, her hands were warm, my mind wandered to who it was touching my manhood, how I'd once felt about her and the photos I'd seen on her social media. My cock began to stiffen as I lay motionless, horrified at my bodies betrayal. The hands stopped in their deft sterilisation. Then there was a nervous giggle.

"Well that's not something I usually have happen on my surgical table." Alison noted. I flushed red and gave a nervous grin.

"Sorry. I should probably admit that I had a bit of a crush on you when we knew each other. Bumping into you has dredged up some old memories and I guess my body just felt like embarrassing me." We laughed it off together and she went back to sterilising me.

After a moment of silence, she spoke again.

"This is rather unprofessional but as we're old friends, I've got to admit you have a pretty nice cock." I flushed red again but was actually quite flattered. I've always been pretty proud of my cock. I'm a shower rather than a grower, my manhood hanging at roughly 6 3/4 inches in length and quite thick. Normally I have a light covering of dirty blonde public hair but I was clean shaven for my vasectomy. The stroking of my ego boosted my confidence and I spoke again without thinking.

"Thanks. Your body looks damn good to. I saw the photos you posted from the beach on your social media." Alison flushed and looked away embarrassed. I couldn't help noticing that she was still holding my cock in her hand, the surgical wipes and antiseptic apparently forgotten.

"They were a few years ago. I think I've put on weight since then." There was a strange intonation in her voice. I suddenly recognised it as the tone of a woman who hasn't had their beauty validated by a man in far to long. The atmosphere in the room was precarious, dangerous. I wasn't thinking clearly.

"I bet you still look gorgeous. Tell you what since we're here alone, how about you replicate some of those pictures." Alison look dumbfounded.

"Are you serious?" she asked. I nodded.

"Sure! We're old friends. This is just old friends having some banter and showing off their summer bodies. Besides," I gestured, "I've shown you mine." She laughed at that.

"Okay." She agreed. She shimmied out of her scrub trousers, revealing long incredibly sexy legs. Then she pulled her scrub top up over her head revealing a huge pair of tit's in a black lacy bra. Now I've got to say, I'm a tit man through and through. I've never been with a woman who had anything less than a 36 inch chest. My first wife had a nice pair of 38C tit's. Marie actually was a bit weak in that department, only a 36D. I'd compromised on that point because I loved so much else about her. Alison's tits on the other hand I could tell were massive. At a guess I'd say a size 40EE. If my dick had been uncomfortably hard before it was painfully stiff now, standing straight against my stomach as I lay on the surgical bed propped on my elbow as I watched my doctor undress.

She looked at me for a moment and bit her lip nervously.

"How do I look?" she asked. Again that same craving for male validation was in her voice. I sat up and stared at her, my dick pointing out from my lap, leaning towards the beautiful semi nude woman like a flower leans towards sunlight. What had I gotten myself into asked a voice in the back of my head but my mouth answered truthfully, guided by my libido.

"As we're old friends, I've got to admit you have pretty nice tits." I told her, echoing her former statement. She laughed, and something changed in her eyes. A reckless confidence.

"You think so?" she asked and with a sudden movement her bra fell away. My attention became instantly focused, narrowed down to nothing more than those two voluptuous bouncing mounds of flesh in front of me. I didn't notice myself move, didn't think, acted solely on instinct. In less time then it takes to blink I was across the room, Alison was in my arms and my mouth was fastened roughly upon hers. As my tongue pushed past her lips and into her mouth, I asked myself what was I doing? This wasn't me? I had a great marriage. I was a loving and faithful husband. But here I was half naked with another woman, kissing her with a passion I'd forgotten existed, cheating on my wife of ten years and the mother of my three daughters. AND LOVING EVERY SECOND OF IT. I was a lowlife, a scumbag, a cheat, a philanderer and an adulterer and that simple fact turned me on so much I thought my nuts would explode.

I lifted Alison up, her long legs wrapped around my waist, our lips still pressed together, breathing ragged, moans of pleasure muffled by our thrusting tongues. I turned round and lowered her down onto the operating table. My hands started roaming over her body, fondling those enormous, massive and fucking amazing boobs with a desperate need. I broke the kiss and moved my mouth to join my hands, sucking and biting at her full nipples. My hands traced her hips before reaching the waistband of her lacy underwear. I pulled them down over her long sexy legs and flung them over my shoulder. I think they landed dangling over the modesty screen that stood in the corner. Her exposed pink cunt lips glistened with her arousal beneath a shaven mound. I leaned forward and buried my nose in her snatch and inhaled the first new cunt in ten long years. The scent hit me like a full body blow. It was intoxicating, addictive and I knew in that moment that I wouldn't just fall off the wagon, I would willing lie under it as it crushed me. I would embrace my role as a adulterer without a guilty thought. I'd always found the scent of a woman's cunt to be arousing. When we first got together I would spend long minutes between Marie's legs during foreplay, just breathing her scent in. Alison's scent was something else entirely, it was almost like she was the woman I had been meant for all along. I knew in that moment, without ever having done the deed, that she was my true sexual counterpart. With her moans of longing and arousal making a sweet symphony in my ears, I began kissing along Alison's vulva, her clitoris, the tiny mole on her inner thigh. Her juices began to flow freely as she gave herself over to our coupling and as they began trickling down my chin I pressed my tongue deeper into her folds and tasted her. Oh fuck that sweet nectar of feminine arousal. My tongue moved eagerly and instinctively; shallow then deep, slow then fast, anything to coax Alison to cum and fill my mouth with extra marital delight. The tiny remaining rational part of my brain reflected on my position; kneeling on a cold clinical floor, my cock rock hard, my mouth buried in the cunt of a woman who was not my wife and who was likely about to be stuffed full of the very cock she was supposed to be operating on. I gave a guttural growl and forced my tongue deeper.

I must have hit the sweet spot because Alison cried out in delight and flooded my mouth with fresh sweetness. I stood up, wiping my mouth on my sleeve before pulling my shirt off over my head. We were both now naked and I planned to claim Alison for myself right there. She had other ideas. She'd shifted herself on the operating table so she was now lying on her back, head hanging over the end. Reaching up she grabbed my cock and gently pulled me closer until the head of my cock pressed against her lips. She kissed the tip folding her lips around it sensuously. Slowly, she worked her lips over the head like a python devouring it's prey, her tongue massaging the underside of the glans in a way I'd never felt before.

"Uh fuck." I grunted, bucking my hips slightly. Alison began working more of my shaft into her mouth, lathering it lovingly with saliva as she worshipped at the altar of manhood. Whilst she sucked my cock, my hands went back to fondling her magnificent pair of mammaries, tweaking the nipples and kneading the soft supple flesh in my palms. Her right hand was softly rubbing her clit and I could smell her arousal thick on the air; a raw reeking fog of sexuality. Alison reached above her head and grabbed at my arse, once toned but now the first area gone slightly to seed in my approaching middle age. Firmly she pushed forward, forcing another two inches of my cock into her mouth. I heard her gag as my cock pushed into her throat.

"Holy shit!" I gasped. No woman, none of my dozen or so teenage conquests, neither of my wives, had ever tried to deep throat me. Another gargled moan as Alison pushed the final inch of my cock into her throat, my bollocks now rested against her nose. I could see the outline of my prick stretching her throat. Alison held it there for a moment. I glanced down, our eyes met and I saw a fierce energy within hers. She pulled back a few inches before using her grip on my arse to push my cock back in again. After a few more guided thrusts I took up the tempo on my own, fucking her throat whilst she furiously fingered herself.