by Kara Hart
“She’s a student,” I keep telling myself. Shit, she’s probably a freshman. I can’t be thinking about young women like that. Still, I couldn’t help myself, could I? If she was to call right now and say, “Come fuck me, doctor,” I’d be driving to her place right fucking now. Even when I was leaving, I had to sneak one more peek at that ass of hers.
She’s innocent, dammit. And, of course, that’s why I like her so much. Innocent. Pure. I haven’t been with a woman like that in a long time. My dad’s words come into my mind and I have to physically remove myself from my desk in order not to dwell too much on that. No, I’m not marrying any women. I’m admiring. Can’t a man just admire without feeling the gnawing idea of marriage?
Apparently not. Which is why I can’t go too far into the hole with this one. I shouldn’t make assumptions either. She’s probably just genuinely into my research, the facts, and the state of our healthcare system. Yeah, that’s it. She’s not trying to fuck me. She’s just a well-to-do student.
I burst out laughing at the thought and my door swings open. Neil Johnson, the chief surgeon at this hospital peeks his head in. “What’s so funny, Mason?” he asks me. Mason. He only calls me by last name because he knows I hate it when he does it.
“We’re not at football practice, Neil,” I groan. Then I remember he asked me about the laughing. Shit, I probably seem insane right about now. Here I am, sitting in my office, while my mother is going through the last rounds of “treatment.” Her deathbed is near and I’m laughing.
“How are you holding up?” he asks. He pulls up a chair and sits down.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m just sort of floating by,” I admit. “I’m sorry, man. This whole year has been a fucking mess. Right now, I’m just trying to make sense of it all.”
“Don’t apologize. You remember how it was last year,” he says.
Last year, his father had gotten into a horrible car accident. Drunk driver turning left. His dad never stood a chance, as the grinding metal made its way toward his vehicle. He was the man who had to operate on his own father. He was the man that had to watch the life fade from him. He was the man who called the time of death.
This place isn’t to be celebrated. We clap at our award ceremonies and fundraiser dinners, as if we’ve achieved the highest glory a man can attain. In the end, we have to lie in our beds. It’s us who has to realize we haven’t done a damn thing. We’re still powerless over the sublime power of nature. We can always take one step forward, yet somehow, we’re always pushed back three.
“So, I get it,” he continues. “Maybe it’s not the best time to mention this, but you’re still the best damn surgeon at this hospital. Your work hasn’t decreased in value during this whole thing and I just want to commend you on that. You’re doing good work.”
“Yeah. Well, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’ve done nothing. There just aren’t enough options,” I say. And there it is. That pain in my heart. It rushes in and swells, until finally it turns numb. My face feels cold. My limbs hang like they’re weighted.
“You’re lying to yourself. You’ve done more than most people in the seven years you’ve been here. Hell, I wish I had accomplished what you have in that span of time,” he says. “As for options… well, you’re right. There never seems to be enough we can do. I don’t have a real response to that, Mason.”
“James,” I correct him and a smile forms on both our faces.
“You know what you need?” he laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t take this the wrong way or anything.”
“Oh, God. More advice, huh?” I ask. “Go on. Give it to me. I guess I could use some advice right about now.”
“It’s the soundest advice a doctor can ever give you.” He winks and leans back in his chair. He looks smug and content. “You need a woman, Mason.”
A mixture of groaning and laughter comes out of my mouth. “Why does everyone in the world keep telling me that?”
“It should be obvious. Pussy is the magic elixir of the world. Pussy makes the world go ‘round. Pussy can heal a man. Trust me. I’ve seen it happen,” he says, all with a giant, cocky smile. I have to smile back.
“I’ll be sure to get some… pussy,” I say. He couldn’t even use the sound medical term? He just goes straight for the “pussy.” Now, I can’t stop repeating it in my head.
“No prospects?” he asks.
“I don’t know. I haven’t really been keeping an eye out for it,” I say. “In fact, the whole idea of wining and dining some broad just so I can go home and feel good about myself just doesn’t sound too appealing. And now my father wants me to settle down and get married. You know, the whole circle of life thing. Life, work, marriage, children, grandchildren, and death. That’s how that man operates.”
“Forget about all of that. Marriage is an antiquated idea. You’re not going to find what you want by getting married,” he says. “Unless of course, you want a divorce, alimony payments, and two annoying, little children begging for the money you’ve earned.”
“I forgot about your divorce. That was almost ten years ago and you’re still bitter,” I laugh.
“Alimony payments for life. Shit, it’s not fun. The court system doesn’t rule in our favor. All I’m saying is be careful. Your father’s a great guy, but he comes from a different time. Just have fun as much as you can without hurting anyone. That’s all you can do these days,” he says. He slides his chair back and sighs. “Well, I should be going. Tons of shit to take care of. I’ve got the board down my ass over this expansion.”
“Good luck,” I say. He waves a hand and exits the office.
Marriage. No, that’s not something that sounds very appealing right now. Divorce and all of that. It happens to everyone now, doesn’t it? Plus, I’m a fucking surgeon. The amount of hours I work is enough to drive any woman crazy. She’d leave within a year.
Still, he may be right about one thing. Pussy does make a man feel like he’s on top of the world. What was her name? Olivia? Well, if she calls, I’m inviting her over.
Olivia
I’ve got a crush. It’s a stupid schoolgirl crush and it’s totally embarrassing. I feel like I’m in high school again. James Mason. Total hottie surgeon #1. I should circle a heart around his name and kiss it endlessly. Oh fuck, what have I become?
No, what I should do is completely forget about him and Josie. Then I’ll be in the right spot of things. Then I can focus on my life after school. But when I’m in bed, I can’t help but stare at his card. Surgeon James Mason. He’s at least humble. It just says his name and his number.
I close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to go on one date with him. Maybe he’d take me to a nice restaurant, overlooking the lake. Or maybe he’d show me his favorite bar, somehow posh and hidden at the same time. And then, as I’m starting to feel the alcohol loosen me up, his hand might slide up my inner thigh.
Of course, I’d tell him to stop. But he’d answer my protests with an arrogant smile. He’s not the man to say no to. He only responds to my faint moaning, my teeth dragging across my lip, and the sight of tongue, flat against the bottom of my mouth.
He’d keep his hand moving and I’d feel the warmth rise up into my body, starting from my core, up to my face. I’d grow so fucking wet that when his fingers slipped inside of me, they’d come out dripping. And then I’d close my eyes, reach out, and touch his big, fat, hard cock. I’d feel the strength of him right then and there, and gulp out of fear and anticipation.
“I’m a virgin,” I’d tell him. The air would circulate into my lungs and I’d feel his hand work harder on me. He’d smash the table away and pin me against my chair. He’d wrap his solid hand around my collarbone and press firmly, feeling my heartbeat. He’d put his face to my chest and just listen, as I keep my hand on his cock, stroking slowly.
I open my eyes and am transported back to my room and my comfy bed. My satin sheets lay soaked beneath me. I roll them up against me and groan, placing
my right hand between my legs. I close my eyes again and he’s right there, right in front of me. I can feel him touching me.
His hand is so strong, yet gentle. Confidence runs through his veins. He whispers, “Don’t worry. I’ll be tender with you.” His lips press firmly against mine and I nearly die from excitement.
I open my eyes again. My fingers are moving fast and pressing down hard against my clit. My lips are dripping. I need him. No. It’s not the time to go messing with these things. It has to be special. It can’t be some sick, fantasy. I need love, not hard lust.
My mind, however, begs to differ. As soon as I picture him mounting me, something goes off in body. I barely have to touch myself, before I’m shaking against my mattress. I picture his huge cock pushing deep inside. I can feel just how he’d hold my hips, how he’d smack my ass every minute or so, and pull my hair back. I can feel as his balls hit my clit, with every pump he gives me.
“Oh fuck,” I moan. I can feel the volcano of pleasure rising inside my body. It forms and swells, until it needs to release. My eyes shoot open as I lose it. In my fantasy, James cums inside of me without even asking me. It’s too late. He’s already focused all of his pleasure on me. This turns me on more, even though it shouldn’t.
When I’m done and back down on earth, I feel a heavy guilt rise over me like a cloud. Though, instead of basking in it, I shake it away. I’m not a bad person for wanting the experience. It’s just not what I promised myself. I can give my weird brain the fantasy, but that’s it.
Still, I pick up his card and stare at it. I hold it in my fingers, like it’s some artifact or ancient treasure. The corners of the card pinch into my skin. I grab my phone, though its one in the morning. I punch in his number and I bite my lip out of fear as I do so. This is so wrong. I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s just… happening.
I hear the phone ringing. No answer. Ring. No answer. Finally, after a few seconds of doubt, he answers. “Hello?” he says. His voice isn’t groggy. In fact, it sounds like he is wide awake.
“Um, hi,” I whisper. “This is Olivia.”
James
“This is Olivia,” she says to me. Holy shit. She actually called me.
“The freshman?” I ask her, leaning back in my chair.
“Do you want me to be a freshman?” she asks. Jesus, she’s not pulling any punches. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t exactly ready for her call. “Or do you want to know my real age?”
“When you get to be my age, it’s all the same,” I shrug. To an extent, it is.
“I’m a senior,” she declares, as if that changes anything. Great. I was a senior over a decade ago. I’m not sure of the significance anymore.
“How—” Just as I’m about to make the assumption aloud, she interrupts me.
“Cute?” she asks. “Do you like that I’m younger than you?”
I lean back and smile. She’s down to the nitty-gritty. She wants to see what makes me tick. Okay then. I can play that game. “Do you like that I’m older than you?” I ask.
“That’s not answering my question,” she says. There’s a slight giggle at the end of her sentences, like this is risky behavior. It’s almost as if she’s never engaged in something like this before.
“Yes,” I say. “I like it.”
“Me too,” she says.
“So…” I feel my cock start to rise in my pants. I fight the urge to touch it. Shit, she should be here right now. I wish she’d walk in this room, drop to her knees lightly, and open that pretty mouth of hers. Yes, I want to do unspeakable things to her and she knows it.
“What’re we going to do about that?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” she laughs. “It’s a dilemma, isn’t it?”
I reach down and unzip my pants. “My place is free. I’ve got a study we can… talk in.”
“Talk. Right,” she says. “I don’t know about that.”
That’s when I know she’s not going to budge. She’s just going to tease the ever-living shit out of me. I get the thought in my head that I probably should be more careful, that my career is always on the line and I need to remember that. Then I remember my boss. Would he give a shit? He did tell me pussy cures all ailments. That’s right, the Chief Surgeon at my hospital told me pussy is a wonder drug. I wonder if he prescribes it to everyone.
I grab my cock firmly and feel how hard it gets. I haven’t fucked anyone in what seems like ages. Sure, there’s the occasional woman every now and then. There are those mild regrets when I take a woman home from the bar and realize just how disgusting humans can truly get. It all usually hits me in the morning, when I turn over and see them drooling against my pillowcase.
I try to stay away from situations like that. Yet, this woman is different. She’s not some thirsty lady who’s been screaming at the bartender all night. She’s innocent. There’s no doubt about that. Her heart hasn’t been corrupted yet. There are so many possibilities for her. I can hear it in her voice.
“I never said you had to come over,” I tell her. “It was just a suggestion.”
“Well, it’s tempting, but I do have a curfew,” she says.
“You’re supposed to be out partying every night. What’s this curfew all about?” I ask, feeling the disappointment and undeniable yearning kick into my bloodstream.
“Am I? Is that a prescription for good health?” she asks.
“No, actually. The prescription for good health is my—”
“You’re bad,” she laughs, completely cutting me off. “I should go.”
“So soon?” I ask. My cock is in my hand. If she only knew what I could do to her right now. I want to plow her straight into my desk. Fuck, I want to rip her skirt up, tear her panties down to her ankles, and thrust until I cum inside her. I want to show her what being with a real man is like.
“I just called so I could get to know you,” she says. “I wanted to see what makes you tick. Turns out, you’re just another pervert.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, with a smile. I’ve never had a woman talk like that to me before. Well, it’s true. I’m a pervert and I don’t give a damn. I’m a pervert who saves lives. Before I can even add to my shock, she hangs up the phone.
I sigh and press the end button. “Wow,” I whisper. “I need that woman.”
Olivia
It’s hard not to notice the long-lasting smile, stretched across my face. When I walk into Josie’s apartment, she frowns. See, we’re pretty much the opposite of each other. If she’s happy, I’m unhappy. If I’m happy, she’s pissed. It’s just the way it goes.
“What’s making you so chipper?” she asks.
“What’s making you so angry?” I ask back.
“Finals. What else? I’m so over all of this crap. I just want to get a job,” she says.
“And then when you get a job, you’ll be wishing that you could go back to school,” I laugh.
“Right, and pay another forty grand? No thanks. Anyway, what’s happened with you? Did you somehow win the lottery or something?” she asks.
“Sort of.” I smooth my skirt with my hands and sit down on a giant beanbag in the center of her room.
“Sort of? Stop being vague, woman. Spill the dirt!” she exclaims.
“I just had a little convo with the doctor last night,” I say. Her eyes widen. A smile finally forms on her face. “Turns out, he’s a dirty, dirty man.”
“No way.” She says the words slowly. “No fucking way.”
“Yes way,” I whisper.
“Tell me everything now. I want to hear everything. What’s he into? Does he love that you’re a virgin? Is he that depraved?” she asks.
“I didn’t go that far, Josie. I’m not going to tell him straight up that I haven’t ever been with a man,” I say.
“But he’ll love it,” she sings, clapping her hands together.
“You’re being annoying and ruining my story,” I say.
She smiles, closes her eyes, and leans back against the carpet. “
Okay, okay. Go ahead. Tell me in your own words. What did the dirty man do to you?”
“He touched me here and here.” I point and laugh. “No, really, we just talked for a bit.”
“Did he cum? Did he moan loudly into your ear and tell you that you’re the one?” she asks.
“We haven’t gotten that far into our relationship, but I’m sure he will soon,” I say. “He definitely likes that I’m younger than him. He told me that much.”
“What a pig. I told you he’d go crazy for you. Didn’t I?” she asks. “You’re so lucky you have me as a friend.”
“Honestly, I doubt I could go through with doing that again. It was pretty out of character of me,” I say.
She sits back up and frowns. She grabs my hands and squeezes. “You have to keep this going. You can’t stop now,” she says.
“My brain is telling me to stop now,” I say.
“But what is your body telling you? Never listen to your brain. It’ll always lead you astray,” she says.
“That’s Josie’s philosophy, huh?” I ask. She lets go of my hands, still frowning.
“It hasn’t betrayed me yet. Look at me. I live a good life. You could be where I am now, completely content,” she says, proudly.
Sure, because I’d love to be in her shoes. In all actuality, she does seem to be going in an okay direction. It’s just that her direction isn’t necessarily what I’m looking for. I’m looking for stability. I’m about to graduate. I want something more out of life, not just one-night stands with strange, horny surgeons.
Can I stop thinking about him, though? Can I stop imagining his strong, steady hands against my hip? Can I stop my heart from beating heavy when I hear his voice in my ear? I’m not sure about that yet. Maybe, for once in my life, I want something different, strange, and completely wrong.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go out with him. He seems pretty nice, actually,” I say.
“Maybe he’ll be able to get you a job,” she shrugs. “Maybe his dick is exactly what you need.”