Dr Jew by Robert Crayola Read Free Book Online

the room or perhaps it just might be more natural feel more good to h ave some skin exposed as she lay in the chair reclined would the leather feel good against her back, yes.
    "I think I 'll take off my blouse," I said. "You need to examine me."
    "I 'll need you to remove your blouse to begin my examination," I said, seeing it start to take effect.
    Let me help you with the buttons, those small knobby hands unbuttoning unfastening unloosening the turquoise fabric of his hands so beautiful everything was. Was there music, there must have been or was that just my leather skin against the spikes of the turquoise velvet, everything in that room that day white like a vision. That memory sits like a book on the shelf.
    When my scissors removed the last of her blouse her soft round skin so clean like she knew she was going to a doctor or a newly opened electronics product from a recent assembly line. Her breasts plump but firm hammocked in a white bra and each slow breath rising and falling as the Earth breathes after an earthquake. She was elsewhere. "Are you well?" I said.
    And behind and inside him in all things but my God in him I could see the light radiating and each word echoed resounded like a gong the sound echolocating and defining the room and beyond to the universe's edge and time's frame… was I well? Was it all well… could it be anything but well in the darkest corner and the sickest poison even there all was well and flooding with rainbow glow electrical wind veins throbbing on all sides all is well.
    "I 'm glad to hear it," he said, his hand now over my breast causing my heart to beat if he took it away my heart might stop so I beg you to leave it. "Fear not, fear not, I just thought you might breathe easier be more at ease and offer yourself up for a more thorough examination – not getting enough oxygen – without stifling you this oh so unnecessary brassiere, so we shall take the liberty to withdraw and remove it from the present body so beautiful smooth orbs he wedged an index finger between my bra and breast like it always belonged there and why not, pink is the soft color that breathes and takes all into a world of soft, on the planet of invisible mozart, an ocean of pink sunset clouds a mirror world mercury spread jelly and air as one oppressive beauty and the inhale exhale of air as an everflowing circle my bra was pushed up and my breasts revealed as gravity sat upon them me on my chairback like exploding impact two Hiroshima and Nagasaki groundwaves frozen as two mammary glands the sound lines the wrinkles on his fingers going to the horizon, silk and respiration please keep breathing and I leaned up for a moment in which he reached behind me and unclasped my bra so useless revealed as skin from the waist up so natural so Gaugin and all in the interests of abounding health, eat well, drink in moderation and sleep sound," he said.
    I 'm not sure but I thought he said something about a tongue examination and I don't even remember him looking in my mouth in fact his tongue was out and how unpacked and there for me to see his big Jew slurping music on my neck and me all settled and calmly salivating in my cracks and the soft corner of my arm ruby lips like my lips my own so how could I let it be otherwise. It went over me like a magic marker a stick through a calm pond the sun rising, and now they are circling my right breast circling and climbing winding and so slow soft and discreet elevating massaging someone's breast I just seem to be connected to but watching at a distance and why would we turn our back on pleasure. It reached the nipple and caressed and brailled it and the fingers too bicycle tire tread veneer and ribbon up and higher up yet pinpointing a volcano rising beyond yet, a ghostly huge well abreast the universe itself upflowing unflowering unfolding inverting mandala ripples target spheres containing the others skin on skin the onion of being but the onion knows there is only itself and no