Al Brule was a Chicago illustrator whose style, with its painterly technique and strong primary colors, closely resembled that of the Sundblom circle. During the 1940s and the 1950s, he created many adverstisements for major national corporations, most of them appearing as full pages in leading magazines like The Saturday Evening Post. Brule also painted a number of advertising images that were reproduced as twenty-four-sheet billboards, which lined America’s highways or were hung on the sides of buildings or specially erected platforms.
Read “The Doctor Visits”
a Short Story Inspired by Al Brule
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Ninety-nine percent of the calls I receive are for nothing worse than a sore throat or a cold that’s gone on a bit too long. That’s the trouble with rich people – they think that their minor ailments are worse than anybody else’s. They demand some kind of preferential treatment – as though I have a cure for the common cold, but just haven’t been giving it out because nobody’s offered me enough cash for it yet.
That said, I do enjoy my job. And it does come with its benefits. There are the lonely women, for example. A lot of these starlets made their fortune a while ago, and had simply been sitting on it ever since. Most of them didn’t get out of the house all that often, and I was pretty much the only eligible man they met on a day to day basis.
If you’re wondering whether this means what you think it means… well, the answer is yes. I got off with my patients. Often. There was one lady in particular who was particularly memorable. The first time I slept with her was after she called me out for a sore throat, and pretty much the moment I opened the door I knew that she was on the prowl.
I was in my early twenties at the time, and she was at least ten years older than me. She’d still retained her looks though. She was a slinky, sensuous honeyed blonde, who always had a particularly knowing look in her eye. She smiled as she let me into the house. “Ah,” she said. “A new doctor. And so young as well!” She dragged a hand down the middle of my chest, and then beckoned for me to follow her into the house.
It had been a little while since I last got laid, and so even though I had some doubts about getting with a patient, I lapped it up. I even went as far as doing a few extra examinations on her: I listened to her chest and felt her breathing. She was so warm, and she pressed her body against me at every opportunity. I knew right then and there that it was on. “Well,” I said. “You seem to me like you’re perfectly healthy.” “Good to know,” she drawled. “But that’s not the only reason I called you here.” “Oh?” I said, playing the innocent. “Really? What else can I help you with?” That was when she grabbed me and pulled my face towards hers. Before I knew it we were kissing deeply and passionately. And she was a good kisser. I’d only ever been with women my own age before, and in all those cases I’d been the one in charge, the one leading this kiss. This time it was all her. Her tongue poked into my mouth and her fingers tightened in my hair. My hands, somewhat clumsily, found her body and felt the soft weight of her breasts and the toned flatness of her stomach.
“Make love to me,” she moaned into my ear. Naturally, I didn’t need to be told twice. She had these fantastic leather sofas right in the middle of her living area, and I pushed her back onto one of these and hitched up her gold-coloured dress. Beneath her legs were smooth and strong, and I nipped her thighs and ran my hands over the smooth, wet bump of her crotch. She surprised me then by slipping off the couch onto her knees and deftly undoing my belt. Her cool, strong fingers wrapped around my cock, and she guided it into her mouth. She proceeded to give me one of the best blowjobs I’d ever received. She wasn’t just enthusiastic – she really knew what she was doing. She cupped my balls and moved her hand gently up and down as she sucked and licked at me. Before long I was on the verge of coming. She pulled back though before I could finish. “Not yet, Doctor,” she said, giving me cock a few more teasing pulls. “I want you to finish inside of me.”
And so I helped her remove her panties, slipping them down over her long legs. She lay back on the sofa and – with her ankles on my shoulders – I slipped inside of her. She was tight and firm, and so wet that I could push in all the way without effort. I pressed forward, going as deep as I could, before I pulled back and started bucking into her in earnest.
She threw her head back against the couch and moaned and groaned as I made love to her. I was already on the very edge of my endurance after having had her mouth on me, but I held out for as long as I could. I must have lasted at least a couple of minutes – long enough for her to convulse with at least one powerful, shuddering orgasm. Once I saw the look of transcendent bliss come across her face, I finally let go.
My orgasm was a huge one. Eight or nine spurts, at least, and it left me gasping, hunched over the sofa. Her hands stroked the muscles of my arms, and she panted – recovering from her own climax. Eventually I pulled out of her, and we both retrieved our clothes and straightened ourselves out a little.
“That was just what I needed,” she said smoothly. “Thank you, Doctor. I trust that I can call you the next time I feel… unwell?” “Of course,” I said, with a grin. “After all, this is my job.”