by Jamie Knight
It was like a bolt of lightning had struck me when his fingers landed on my shoulder. I looked up at him and noticed him looking weaker, like he had felt the same surge of electricity that I did.
We both sat there, frozen, staring into each other’s eyes.
God, he was sexy.
Before I knew what I was doing, my legs sprung open, as if inviting him in. At the same time, I leaned my head forward a bit, wanting to kiss him, but thinking better of it.
It made no sense that I was acting this way. Other than the fact that I felt a strange attraction to him, and I had a feeling he felt the chemistry between us as well.
He glanced down at my bare pussy and sucked in a deep breath. I was so wet for him that I wondered if he could see any of my juices dripping out of it.
Then he seemed to give into the same temptation I had been feeling. I guess he’d been trying to fight it off, just like I had been.
He inched his hand down my body slowly, running his soft fingers along my inner thigh. I arched my back as I felt the tingling sensation racing through my body. He started slowly petting my pussy lips, making my clit harden and jump as I tried to contain my excitement.
I moaned as he slowly and carefully inserted his thick finger into my rippling wet pussy. I braced myself, grabbing a handful of his doctor’s coat as he pushed his finger all the way inside me, coating his finger with my slippery wetness.
It felt incredible. I could feel my pussy gripping his finger as he worked it in and out, again and again.
He leaned over and kissed me, his soft, supple lips caressing mine. He was an amazing kisser.
He kept pushing his finger in and out of me while he kissed me, making me crave even more of him. My hips circled and raised reflexively, responding to the slow pulsing of his fingers.
He started moving his finger faster and faster. He pushed his thick finger in and out of my juicy pussy that was growing wetter by the second.
I bit my lip, fighting to hold in the scream that threatened to escape as the walls of my pussy started to shudder, gripping his finger. My whole body seemed to sputter and shake as I felt a powerful wave building from my toes and coursing up my body until it reached the crown of my head.
What am I doing? I thought.
Was being fingered in a doctor’s office really going to give me the life that I had been hoping for: a great relationship and a family?
Or would it only lead to more disappointment, plus awkward weirdness between my fertility doctor and me?
With my luck, I knew it could only lead to trouble.
And I knew exactly what I had to do.
“I can’t do this,” I said, slowly pushing him away.
His finger came out of my pussy immediately, as if to let me know I didn’t have to say it twice.
Dr. Roberts looked frozen again, but this time, he also looked completely embarrassed.
“I know,” he said. “And you’re right. I’m really not quite sure what came over me. I usually never even think about doing anything like this with a patient, but you are just so incredibly sexy, and I got caught up in the moment and I couldn’t resist.”
“Yeah, it did seem irresistible,” I said.
My voice sounded more seductive than I had meant it to sound.
He paused and looked at me, as if wanting to do it again.
And so did I.
But we couldn’t.
“Okay, I’ll see about coming for another appointment,” I told him, sitting up and reaching for my clothes.
“Sounds good,” Dr. Roberts said, and started walking out of the room.
He looked back before he was completely gone, thought, as if he was second guessing himself.
I too wanted to jump right into his arms.
But I didn’t.
And then he left.
I had a feeling this might not be the end of things between us, though.
There was something about him that was incredibly sexy.
He had not been like any of the other guys I had tried to be with.
Now that I had had his finger in me, I couldn’t help but want more, even though I knew it was forbidden.
Chapter Five
Ted
Two weeks had passed, and I figured that that would have been enough time for me to forget about the encounter between Anne and me.
Fuck, was I ever wrong.
She was all that I could think about. Sometimes, if I closed my eyes tightly and went back to that day in my mind, I could almost smell her sweet, delicious aroma wafting up to my nose, making me crave her and think about her even more.
Unlike the string of nearly nameless, faceless women I’d hooked up with in the past and was easily able to forget about – usually without even trying – there was no getting Anne out of my mind. She seemed to have permanently taken up residence there.
When no amount of working out or TV watching could successfully distract me, I decided to pick back up with a hobby that was near and dear to my heart: woodworking.
I had gotten into woodworking by accident, a very long time ago. I was visiting a college colleague, Tom, who was also a fertility specialist but worked at the hospital.
I walked up to the nursing station and asked where Tom was. The on call nurse didn't even look up from her computer screen that she was staring at and pointed towards a room with an open door.
I walked in and found Tom sitting with a patient.
"I am so sorry," I said, starting to back out of the room.
"It's okay," said the little girl.
She wore what had to be the curliest, blondest wig I'd ever seen.
"Are you Dr. James' friend?" she asked, nodding toward Tom.
"Yes," I said, taken in by her big, brown eyes and her unusually bubbly demeanor.
"Look at the cool present that he gave me," she said, opening her hand and showing me a toy soldier on a rocking horse made of wood.
I was mesmerized by the detail of the simple toy that clearly brought her so much joy and asked her if I could hold it.
Tom later shared with me that the little girl, Sara, was disabled and had problems with extra fidgety movements of her hands. Fiddling with the rocking horse helped give her something to do and made her feel less self-conscious about her necessary habit. My heart dropped when I learned that there were many other children who shared the same story.
Tom explained to me that as a fertility doctor, we would encounter children with disabilities when we followed up with the babies who were born. There was a slightly higher rate for birth defects when children are conceived via IVF – especially when multiple embryos implant and the risk of twins, triplets, or higher multiple pregnancies rises, leading to premature birth. But all doctors who encounter babies have to deal with birth defects, of course, so it wasn’t something specific to my fertility field.
Ever since then, I dedicated time to learning how to create similar toys. I gave them out to all the children who were born as a result of my work. All of them said that they loved the toys because they could use their imaginations.
But children with disabilities were able to enjoy the toys made with specific intent. Children with autism, for example, loved the wooden wind chimes since they made funny sounds that fulfilled their auditory sensory-seeking impulses, and they also liked the pencils with special grips that helped them write.
After meeting Sara, whenever I would find out that there was a child with a disability, I would make a wooden toy especially for them, that would help with whatever it was that they were struggling with.
It made my heart happy to see them so happy with something that I could create with my own hands.
Today, I sat working on a new set of wind chimes for another patient of Tom's. We were still in touch and he told me about his cases just as I told him about mine, and we helped make toys for each others’ patients. I was hoping that the woodworking would help me keep my mind off Anne.
Even that didn't work, though. Every time I s
moothed out an edge with my fingers, I would think of how nice and supple my fingers felt against Anne's soft skin.
I threw the chimes into a drawer and decided that I would go into the office and get some work done instead. Surely being around my colleagues and patients would help me to keep my mind on something other than Anne.
I walked into the office and Joe, another doctor that I worked with, looked at me, surprised.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice going up a few octaves higher than normal.
"What? You mean to tell me that you've never seen a doctor work around here?" I asked, jokingly.
He chuckled, and said, “I just don’t know why anyone would come in if they’re not scheduled to work and therefore don’t have to.”
It was true; I was a workaholic, but I didn’t care. I loved my work.
Joe then walked off in the other direction, looking for something to busy himself with. I didn't like that my colleagues looked at me like a boss and often didn't even like making small talk with me, but I did appreciate the fact that they respected me and our practice enough to make sure that we upheld a high standard of professionalism.
A standard that threatened to come crumbling down if I kept insisting on thinking about Anne and being inappropriate with her. I wasn't quite sure why I thought that revisiting the scene of the incident was going to be for the best, but there I was, surrounded by the walls of the rooms where I had finger fucked my patient.
And loved every minute of it.
I had a feeling that Anne loved it, too. The way that her pussy creamed all over my hand told me that she had to have enjoyed it on some level. I loved thinking back to how her juices had run out of her pussy, flowing onto my hand as she moaned quietly, so that we wouldn’t be heard.
It had been hot and taboo. I knew that she had enjoyed it.
But something else told me that she was holding back, and not just for reasons of not wanting to get found out. I knew that the doctor/ patient relationship between us probably had something to do with it, but I had this burning feeling that it was something else.
What could it have been?
I wracked my brain trying to think of an answer.
Was there someone she was into, even after giving me that speech about how she had sworn off men forever?
Maybe she was protesting too much, and there really had been a guy in the picture that she was interested in but trying to stay away from.
Had he become her boyfriend by now? I had to know.
I wasn’t usually so possessive or intrigued in a woman’s personal life. I couldn’t care less who the women I hooked up with usually dated and was glad that they had a life outside of me so that they wouldn’t get too clingy.
But now I was driven by impulse to find out everything I could about Anne and make sure that no one else was claiming her. Because I wanted to claim her.
I found her file in the computer and jotted down the phone number listed, on a notepad that was beside the phone.
It took me a few minutes of talking myself into calling her before I finally dialed the number on the office phone.
She picked up after a few rings.
"Hello?" came her faint voice on the other end of the phone.
"Uh, hey there. It's Dr. Roberts... Ted..."
I took a deep breath, almost afraid to go on.
"Yes?" she said, her voice curious and hesitant.
"I was calling because... I was looking through your records and... would you like to go on a date with me?"
There.
I'd said it.
I waited for what seemed like an eternity for her to answer.
After a few moments, she finally responded.
"Actually, I'm really busy at the moment and will be for quite some time, so..."
"Remember what you were telling me in the office about what you want? This is your chance to see through something that could be incredible. Don't you want to at least give yourself a chance?"
I couldn’t believe I was practically begging her to go out with me. This wasn’t my normal style, at all. She had really done a number on me. But I didn’t care; I knew she felt something for me, just like I felt something for her, and I was determined to find out where it would lead.
I could tell that she was thinking about what I was saying.
She knew that I was right.
"Well, okay," she finally agreed.
"Trust me, I understand your hesitation. But I also know what it's like to eat every meal alone and wish that you had someone to share it with. I know what it's like to reach incredible heights in your career and be standing all alone up there on top of that mountain you’d spent so long climbing. I'm not saying that this is the end all, be all, the answer to your prayers and dreams. What am I saying is that I can promise you a good meal and great company if you're open to it."
"That sounds like a great start," she said, beginning to sound more confident. "What day works for you?"
I looked at my calendar.
Every evening was available after work, as I hadn’t managed to bring myself to schedule any dates or hook ups ever since I’d met Anne, but that sounded fucking pathetic. I didn't want to seem too available and scare her off.
But I didn't want to wait another minute to see her.
"What about right now?" I asked, waiting breathlessly and impatiently for her answer.
My finger had been inside her.
Now I wanted my cock inside her, too.
And I knew she wanted more of me.
She just had to give in to what we both wanted, just as I had decided to do, consequences be damned.
Chapter Six
Anne
I had been sitting in my office going through my mail when Dr. Roberts called. I was expecting a very important court decision to come in on a case for which I had done a lot of work and fought hard for. The court was very backlogged, and its decision still hadn't come.
What did come, though, was a letter for an Ann McAlister. I always got letters for her because we had the same name. Only hers was spelled differently than mine, her first name without the 'e' and her last name without the second “l,” like mine had.
I would have thought that people would have paid more attention when delivering the mail, but they didn't. So, at first I had started sending back mail, in the hopes that Ann would get the mail that she was expecting, instead of me.
I wrote 'Return to Sender' on a couple letters and dropped them in the mail box right outside the office building, but then after a few more came, I realized that this Ann had the same address, just a different floor and suite number. It was starting to make more sense as to why the post office would mix up our mail, since it came to the same address.
As it turned out, she worked on the twenty-third floor. What are the chances that that Ann McAlister, a CPA, worked in the same office building as I did? It really was a small world.
So, ever since I figured that out, I’ve been walking the letters up to her floor and slipping them through the mail slot in her office door. She has done the same for me a few times, because apparently, they misdeliver my mail to her, too.
Just as I was about to walk the letter up to her floor this time around, so that I could slip it through the other Ann’s slot, the phone rang.
And that was how I got to be where I was now: wondering if I should go on a date with my fertility doctor.
"How about now?" Dr. Roberts asked, waiting for my answer.
I realized that I had taken more time than I probably should have to answer his question.
“Sure,” I said, putting the letter under my arm.
“Alright,” he said, sounding satisfied. “What’s your address?”
I told him I was at work and gave him my office address.
“Oooh, swanky building; you weren’t kidding about climbing that ladder of opportunity at work.”
I laughed, remembering how he’d just told me he knows what it feels like to be successfu
l but lonely. It was strange, how much we had in common.
“I’ll be over in a few,” he added.
I said okay and hung up the phone. I could feel the nerves starting to build up within me, making me feel like butterflies were fluttering around in my belly.
The walk up to the twenty-third floor was going to be a welcomed distraction. I could kill two birds with one stone: help me kill some time and make sure that Ann got her letter sooner rather than later.
Once I got up to the twenty-third floor, I noticed that it was completely empty. I was hoping to find Ann McAlister herself, as I hoped every time I made this journey to deliver her mail – I wondered whether we looked alike, too, since we had the same name and that would be even more coincidental – but she was never here and I realized that very few people hung around work after hours. Most people had lives and families to get home to. Not me, the childless, career-driven wonder.
Oh well, so she wasn’t here again. But I figured that at least I had come to her office to stick the letter in the mail slot, which felt like my good deed for the day, to return the favors she’d paid me and make sure she got her mail. I quickly deposited the letter and went back downstairs to wait for Dr. Roberts.
I mean Ted, I thought to myself, as I stood there waiting for him.
I guessed since we were going on a date, I could think of him by his first name.
I couldn’t think of the last time that I had stopped in the lobby of my office building. I was always so busy while I was breezing through it, on my way to court or to a meeting with opposing counsel or lunch with a colleague or client, that I hadn’t ever noticed the beautiful Victorian design of the wood and the soft candle sconces along the wall.
It gave the lobby something of a romantic feel.
And Ted was right: this was a swanky office building. My firm was one of the biggest and best in town, and we had a reputation to uphold.
At least all my long nights of work had helped afford the firm the opportunity to pay a small fortune to lease office space in this building. And it didn’t hurt that I was also paid very handsomely – though probably not as handsomely as Ted.