("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text


















--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

Mad About You: She's Supernatural
by Your Ghost (address withheld)

***

An adaptation of the episode of "mad about you" in 
which Paul has to give a sperm sample at the hospital 
and Jamie helps him out, but in this version she 
doesn't just sing. (MF, oral, sitcom-parody)

***

The plan was simple, even flawless: take the sperm 
sample to the hospital, let them analyze it and count 
all the little Paul Buchmans I'd produced, then hear 
the results. Unfortunately, I was having another one of 
those very weird days where not only did everything go 
wrong, but it went wrong in a profoundly bizarre way.

It started with my charming wife Jamie wanting to take 
her sister Lisa with us, not knowing that I had already 
arranged for Ira to go with us. There was some 
discussion mixed in with the last minute running 
around, and finally we decided to just take both of 
them.

If that had been the only snafu that day I would have 
considered myself a blessed man, I'm tellin ya.

We were going to take the car, which was just barely 
big enough for all of us. But there was a delivery 
truck double parked right in front of it, making the 
space we had to get out NOT big enough. And the driver 
refused to move it till he was done with his delivery. 
Al Pacino was making a movie, apparently. We were 
trapped. 

Ira said he could get it out, piece of cake, but you 
should have seen this tiny little space the truck 
driver left, it was too small even for a family of ants 
to get by. The driver said it would only take four to 
seven minutes to get the stuff out of his truck, and 
since we still had thirty-eight minutes to get to the 
hospital we decided there was enough time to get some 
coffee.

So I put my sperm sample, which was safely ensconced in 
a picnic cooler, in the back seat of the car, and Ira 
and I went off to get the coffee, Jamie went to call 
the hospital to tell them about Al Pacino's new movie, 
and Lisa stayed to watch the car. Which turned out to 
be a mistake, because as soon as we returned we saw 
that, a), Lisa was gone, and 2), so was our car. Lisa 
had left to get her own coffee, or maybe a scone or 
something, who knows with that crazy girl.

As an aside, I gotta say, Lisa is a fine looking woman, 
and if it wasn't for Jamie, I'd try to get with her. 
Not for a long term relationship or anything, because 
she'd probably forget we were together, but just one 
night with her would be fine. Or even better, one night 
with Lisa and Jamie and me. All three of us, having mad 
swinger sex. And of course, Lisa and Jamie would have 
to do the lesbian thing. That's like a law in the 
swinger world. One night is all I'm asking for.

Anyway, sometime between Lisa leaving and our coming 
back some guy stole our car. And the billion tiny 
passengers in the little cup inside the cooler.

Still can't figure out how he got that car out of that 
miniscule space. Very miniscule space.

We ended up taking a cab, and got to the hospital with 
nanoseconds to spare. But it didn't matter by then, 
because I didn't have the sample. So I had to give a 
new one, right there in the hospital. Just what all 
that hurrying was designed to avoid.

Then I got this gigantic male nurse who had apparently 
burned out at his job and didn't enjoy it anymore. He 
was concerned about how much time I might take. He even 
told me not to "dilly dally." I don't think I've ever 
dilly dallied.

Dillydally. One word or two?

Anyway, he took me to this small room that he called a 
"depository," and I was supposed to do my business in 
there. It was comfortable enough, and of course I had a 
TV and videos and dirty magazines, but for some reason 
I just couldn't get into it. Semi-sterile hospital 
rooms just don't put me in the mood.

But I gave it a try and I sat down with Slap and Tickle 
Magazine. I started leafing through it. Then suddenly 
Ira came in. He wanted to see what the place looked 
like. He seemed pleased. He picked up one of the videos 
and turned on the TV, and all of a sudden there was my 
car on the TV, being chased by the police.

"How'd he get out of that spot?" was my first question.

Then Jamie and Lisa came in and we all stood there and 
watched the cops chase my car all over Manhattan, until 
finally it crashed and the bomb squad blew up my 
sample.

Like I said, profoundly bizarre.

I was just beginning to deal with the shock when the 
gigantic male nurse came back in. He was mad at me now, 
because I was taking too long, and obviously not using 
the room as it was designed to be used, and banished me 
to the men's room. The men's room. Who can give a sperm 
sample in a men's room? I'm asking.

So I went into the men's room, and fortunately there 
was nobody in there but me. Having an audience would 
have been too much. I took off my coat and I got ready 
to do the unspeakable, and suddenly there was this 
enormous fly buzzing around the place. I mean, he was 
huge. If he was a person instead of an insect he could 
have been that nurse's brother. 

I started swatting at him with my jacket, but the guy 
was quick, he flew right around my attempts to kill 
him. I chased him all over the bathroom, slapping my 
jacket at him like a crazy person. Finally, I opened 
the bathroom door and there was Jamie and I told her, 
"I can't concentrate, there's a fly in there the size 
of an owl."

"Well, maybe I can help," Jamie said.

"I'm desperate," I said.

"What do you want me to do? I'll do anything."

Always words a man wants to hear from his wife, but 
even more so with that sweet smile she gave me, the one 
that said she was eager to please. I gotta tell ya, I 
love my Jamie more than anything you could name in this 
entire world. Even beyond the world. You could offer me 
Mars and I'd laugh in your face.

I leaned close to her and said, "You remember that 
hotel in the Pocanoes? In '92? In the spring?"

Jamie thought for a moment then she got this shocked 
look on her face. "That?!?" she said.

"Would you?" I asked, a little surprised at her 
surprise; my wife wasn't usually that much of a prude. 
"Well, okay."

Then it hit me: she wasn't talking about the same thing 
I was talking about.

"No, no, no," I said, "not the singing thing, no." 
She'd sung 'I Wanna Be Loved By You,' which, I'm 
chagrined to admit, had turned me on. "No, the thing 
you did after that. Remember?"

Jamie thought some more, then a pleasant smile lit her 
lovely face.

"Oh," she said. "Yeah. Sure, Paul, I can do that." Her 
smile turned devilish. "I'd love to do that."

"Then step into my office," I told her.

We went back into the bathroom and Jamie shut and 
locked the door. Then she turned to me and said, "You 
want me to take all my clothes off?"

I considered my answer carefully. It would have been 
nice, Jamie has a terrific body, but if she took all 
her clothes off, if her goddess's body was completely 
nude in front of me, I wouldn't be able to resist it. 
I'm like that, when I see my wife nude, the rest of the 
world just becomes this big glob of crap that I 
couldn't care about.

"No," I said. "Although I think it would help if you 
took off your sweater."

She was wearing this white knit sweater that looked 
really drab, even on her, and I'd have asked her to 
take it off in any case. Jamie immediately did what I 
asked, pulling it up over her head and dropping it on 
the floor, revealing a black lace bra. Very, very nice. 
But why, I asked myself, would she put on a bra like 
that and then cover it up with something drab? It 
didn't make sense. Of course, that particular moment 
wasn't the best time to ask her about it, but it was 
something I could pursue later.

The bra came off next without my even having to ask, 
and Jamie's full round breasts were right there where I 
could see them and touch them and fondle them. Even 
kiss them, which I did. My wife has the most beautiful 
breasts, it's truly unbelievable. And her nipples, her 
nipples are pink, and they get hard really fast. 
They're sensitive too, I can make her come just by 
sucking on them. Not that I'm bragging or anything.

It's funny, I can hear Jamie's voice in my head, 
telling me, 'Get on with the story already.' Because I 
have this tendency to drift, see, to wander away from 
the subject and into whole new territories that might 
not even have anything to do with what I started out 
with. Like right now, this is exactly what I'm talking 
about.

So there I was nibbling and sucking on my wife's 
perfect breasts, and she let me do that for a selfish 
minute before she said, "Paul, the sample."

"Right, right," I said.

I let her go and Jamie dropped right down onto her 
knees. She unfastened my belt, then my pants, and 
reached in and grabbed my cock. Grasped. Better word. 
She didn't, like, pounce or anything, she's not an 
animal. She took it gently in her soft warm hand. 
Pulled it out of my pants tenderly, like she was 
handling a fragile pet. Which she was, when you think 
about it.

"Got the cup?" she asked, which is not a question 
designed to create or sustain romance.

It was sitting on the sink. I picked it up and handed 
it to her, then took it back so I could remove the lid, 
then handed it to her again. She looked at it and said, 
"Kind of big, isn't it? What are they expecting, you 
come like a horse?"

"Can we get on with this, please?" I said. I didn't 
stop to think how she'd know how a horse came. I don't 
even wanna think about it now.

"Well, look who's in a hurry all of a sudden," Jamie 
said.

"And look who's suddenly become a snail. Come on, 
James."

I put my hand on top of her head, touching that 
gorgeous blonde hair and Jamie smiled up at me, the 
love just emanating from her eyes before she closed 
them and leaned forward, opened her mouth, and slipped 
it down over the end of my cock.

I don't even know how to describe this next part. How 
do you describe something so wonderful, so fantastic, 
so utterly amazing, that there are, in the end, no 
words to describe it? Except, I suppose, for the ones I 
just used. But they're inadequate, because they don't 
even begin to do justice to the kind of magic Jamie can 
work on me with her mouth. She's an expert, that girl. 
But if I don't describe it, then what would be the 
point of telling this story? The sex was the whole 
point from the beginning. So I gotta give it a try.

She started out by just taking it all the way into her 
mouth, which is saying something, because I wasn't 
cheated in that area. I'm a fairly well hung guy. And 
Jamie, she just took the whole thing in, sliding her 
lips all the way to the base, touching her top lip to 
my pubic bone and her bottom lip to my balls.

She has these lovely thin lips, by the way, they 
compliment her beautiful face in a way that no other 
kind of lips could.

Anyway: I could feel the head of my cock crowding the 
back of her throat, maybe even getting down in there a 
bit, which made me wonder how she could breathe. She 
managed, though, and she held my cock like that for a 
minute while she brought her hand up (the one not 
holding the cup) and fondled my balls.

Ecstasy just, like, shot through me. It's a wonder I 
didn't go off right then and waste our entire morning.

I still had my hands on her head and it crossed my mind 
that I could hold her in place and fuck her mouth 
(which is what I did in the Pocanoes), but I kept my 
cool, stayed focused on the goal, and let Jamie do her 
thing. I moaned, though, I couldn't help moaning.

Jamie continued to play with my balls as she brought 
her mouth back, sliding it along the shaft of my cock 
until just the head was in her mouth, then she moved 
forward again, taking nearly as much in as she did the 
first time. She did this, I don't know, four or six or 
twenty times, speeding steadily as she went along, 
bobbing her mouth forward and back on my cock.

Except, isn't bobbing an up and down thing? Bobbing up 
and down? Well, this was like a vertical bobbing, if 
that makes sense.

She bobbed vertically on my cock, sucking me with 
unbelievable skill, and still tempting fate with the 
ball fondling, until eventually she stopped, took her 
mouth off of me, and started to lick me all over. From 
the tip all the way down the shaft, around and around 
my balls, everywhere. She was like one of those porn 
stars, except much prettier, and with real breasts. 
Yeah, they're real, one hundred percent natural. Gotta 
wonder how I landed her, dontcha?

After another excruciating thirty seconds of this, 
Jamie went back to sucking me, and now she stroked me 
too, and I'm only human, just a man, I couldn't hold 
out anymore. I felt the pressure start to build in my 
excessively-mentioned balls, growing stronger and 
stronger and moving up through the shaft, and I gripped 
Jamie's rich blonde hair in my hands and said, "This is 
it, sweetheart, it's time, it's on its way, will you 
quit-"

After that I couldn't speak. I had reached the pinnacle 
of orgasmic experience, the ultimate moment of 
pleasure, and who can talk at a time like that? I 
started to come, my semen practically or literally 
exploding from the end of my cock, and Jamie caught the 
first batch right in her mouth. She immediately pulled 
my cock out and held it over the cup, but the second 
bunch missed the mark, shooting out in an arc past the 
cup and right down onto her right breast. Jamie 
adjusted the position of the cup and, fortunately, the 
rest of my semen squirted into it.

And you wouldn't believe how much of it there was. I'm 
no slouch when it comes to, well, coming, but this was 
like a flood, one of those Biblical disasters that 
comes raging up and inundates everything. It just kept 
pouring out and pouring out, and I started to think 
that maybe Jamie was wrong about the cup being too big. 
It wasn't, though. In the end, I only filled it up 
about halfway. But even so, the amount that came out 
was clearly above the average amount. Quite possibly 
the most I ever managed to produce at one time. I was 
pretty proud of myself, I have to say.

And Jamie, my beautiful, gorgeous, and tremendously 
talented wife, I was more proud of her than anybody 
else. Man, what a woman she is. I hate to say things 
about her that could be construed as demeaning in any 
way, but I gotta say this, she is one great cocksucker. 
Best cocksucker in the world.

She's supernatural, that's what she is.

Once the festivities were over, Jamie cleared her 
throat and touched her neck with her fingertips and I 
said, "Oh, you didn't swallow it, did you? Did I make 
that happen? I'm sorry if I made that happen."

Jamie sort of laughed and said, "You don't have to 
apologize, Paul. I didn't mind. Really."

We've actually had this conversation before, because 
honestly I don't feel right about that kind of thing, 
but Jamie, she says she doesn't mind. There have even 
been times when she's said that it turns her on, but I 
don't know. Wouldn't turn me on.

Jamie's a trooper. And the best wife a guy could ever 
wish for.

She let go of my cock and handed the cup up to me. I 
went to grab (grasp?) it and there was a moment of 
miscommunication between her hand and mine and I 
fumbled with it for a second before getting a good 
grip. My heart rocketed right up into my throat. As 
much fun as it was, I didn't wanna have to do this 
again. I quickly put the lid on, made sure it was 
secure, and put it in my jacket pocket as Jamie got up 
off her knees and went over to the sink. She washed up 
a bit, then I washed my hands (I always wash my hands 
after sex, whether I need to or not) while she put her 
bra and her sweater back on.

We were done. And ready to go find out how many of my 
baby makers were in the game and how many were just 
sitting on the sidelines drinking beer and eating 
chips. But before we went back out, I took Jamie in my 
arms and kissed her forehead, then her nose, then even 
her lips. Then I hugged her tight and stroked her hair, 
grateful for this spectacular woman. The only truly 
profoundly bizarre thing is that she believes I deserve 
her.

"I love you," I said.

"I love you too, Paul," she told me.

Then we went out. And I passed the test. Twenty million 
per milliliter. Twenty mil.

end

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - TV, Sitcom & Movie Archive