Whatever. I’ll just go in and see their anxiety ridden daughter and get out of here. I’ll recommend a good psychologist and a cocktail of antidepressants and antianxiety meds.
As I go through the whole rigmarole of getting myself surgically clean, I realize that there’s really nothing else medically that could be wrong with this girl. It simply must be anxiety.
Decked out with plastic wrapped all around me, and a mask over my face, I knock hard on the door. Three quick rasps from my knuckles. I need to get this over with so I can head out to the club where the nurses hang out after work and score myself some sweet tight first year nurse’s ass.
“Coming,” says a voice unlike any I’ve heard. It’s sweet and innocent and almost knocks me back on my feet.
“I’m Liam Horton,” I say. “I’m a friend of your dad’s…”
The door opens slowly, and if her voice didn’t surprise me enough, her body is the fucking surprise of a lifetime.
Holy fuck, is all I can think.
My mind’s almost blank. Blank from her curves.
I had no idea John’s daughter looked like this.
Where the hell has he been hiding her away? Oh yeah, in her room, under the pretense of some horrible un-diagnosable allergy.
She didn’t look anything like this the last time I saw her. I can only vaguely remember her as a gangly awkward teenager with braces that seemed to take up her entire face.
Now she’d give any model or actress today a serious run for their money.
And what a crime that she’s locked away in this cramped little room.
Her ass is like two gorgeous volleyballs stuffed into the skin tight yoga pants that she wears. Her breasts are equally hot, preposterously hot.
My cock instantly springs to life, a stiff steel spear that calls out to me, that wants to impale her and make her cry my name as she comes like she’s never come before. All I can think about is riding her until she cries out not for me to stop, but for more, more, and more…
“Hi,” she says, her voice soft and sweet like a meadow, a meadow on steroids that make it impossibly sexy… the sexiest meadow that’s ever existed. Where the fuck is my mind going?
Her body has got my mind all twisted up into nonsense.
Finally, I regain my composure.
“Your dad wanted me to check in on you to see if there’s anything I could do,” I say, adopting my professional surgeon voice, still standing in her doorway.
“Yes,” she says, introducing herself as Mia, and asking me to come in. “I’ve heard all about you. My dad says you’re great, and that you can find the cure for anything.”
“Well,” I say, sitting on an armchair that she gestures towards. “I should clarify that I’m a surgeon, a brain surgeon, actually. So it would be an understatement to say that this isn’t my area of expertise.”
She sits down on the edge of her bed, putting her stretched out arms on her knees. She has excellent posture, letting her back stay straight, just enough curve in the spine for her pert breasts to stick out. It feels like they’re drilling right into my eyes. I have to tear myself away from glancing at them. She’s wearing a casual t-shirt but it’s tight enough to really show her body.
Bringing my mind back to what I came here to do, my first impression (and first impressions, in my world, mean quite a bit when it comes to diagnosing patients), she doesn’t seem the least bit odd, anxious, bipolar, or anything else that falls under the vast umbrella of mental problems.
She seems too sane, actually.
“So what can you tell me about your symptoms?” I say, taking out a pad of paper. The pad helps me keep my eyes off her.
She tells me what her dad told me, but goes into much more detail. She tells me how it all started gradually, and how she’s forced herself to go outside many times, always to disastrous consequences. Eventually she stopped trying because she kept ending up in the hospital over and over again. It simply became too dangerous to continue.
“And what about your blood work?” I say. In reality, I want to tell her to kneel down in front of me and wrap her gorgeous lips around my massive cock. I’m conscious of her glances down towards my crotch, but I’ve never been one to care about whether women can see my erection. It’s just natural, after all. I’m not going to apologize for the way a woman makes my body respond.
“All normal,” she says, her large eyes wide, innocent and beautiful, looking right at me.
It’s almost too much for me.
I want to throw her down on the bed and plunge my cock into her tight pussy.
But of course that would cause her to have an allergic reaction, and I’d have to drive her to the hospital on my motorcycle, trying to keep her on the bike with my own strength.
No, that wouldn’t be good.
But would it be worth it?
I know she wants me. That’s not unusual, though. Almost every woman wants me.
“Well,” I say, continuing to play doctor. “Maybe you can send me the lab work. Maybe there’s something in there that everyone else missed, but I doubt it. So you’ve been to see…”
“Yes, I’ve been to see plenty of therapists, if that’s what you were going to ask,” says Mia, her eyes turning playful. “I’m not crazy, and I’m not imagining it, although I can certainly understand why someone would think that. Hell, I thought that myself for a long time, but it kept happening over and over again.”
“I see,” I say, making a note.
I write down “crazy” with a question mark after it, before crossing it off.
Honestly, I’ve dealt with plenty of patients with mental issues of all types. I spent three years in the emergency room, and I learned to spot things that aren’t quite right. I don’t have anything against people with mental issues, and I know it can be a real struggle. But sometimes they make a hell of a patient to deal with if you’re not aware of what they’re struggling with. I found that getting better at diagnosing them on the spot made my job a lot easier.
“I never thought you were crazy,” I say, lying a little. “But honestly I did assume that anxiety must have been in play… but meeting you, you seem quite well adjusted for a young woman living alone in a room in her parents’ house. This would drive me insane.”
Mia laughs.
Her laugh is simply gorgeous. Her whole body goes into it, and I can tell that she really means that laugh. It’s not one of those high pitched false laughs that the nurses give me when I say something that’s not even intended as a joke.
She’s genuine, and genuinely gorgeous.
“It is difficult,” says Mia. “All my friends are out in the world, living it up, living their lives…”
A look of a sadness passes over her face like a shadow. But it doesn’t make her look any less beautiful.
“How old are you?” I say, holding my pen in the hopes that it seems like I’m just asking a standard medical question, rather than inquiring for personal reasons.
“Twenty,” she says.
I try not to take in a deep breath of air, but I do anyway. My cock is as hard as it’s ever been.
Twenty fucking years old and seeming more gorgeous every minute.
“Well,” I say. “This wouldn’t be a proper visit without some sort of cursory physical examination. Do you feel comfortable with me doing that? Just the standard stuff, you know…”
“Of course,” says Mia, sitting up straight. “As you said, it wouldn’t be a proper visit without one.”
Do I detect a hint of serious eagerness in her voice?
“All right,” I say, adjusting the stethoscope that always seems to be wrapped around my neck.
Fortunately, I’ve been thinking very hard about baseball and other boring, seriously unsexy shit, helping to tame my erection down to something more reasonable and not quite as noticeable.
“Am I good here?” says Mia, sounding eager to place.
“It’s great,” I say.
I stand next to her, close, and she
smells wonderful. And it’s not that fake perfume scent that all the nurses have. After all, Mia is allergic to practically everything. There’s no way she could use perfume or even deodorant. But her smell alone, her natural smell, is enough to get my cock growing in my pants again.
“I’ll start with the lymph nodes,” I say.
Mia nods.
I put my hands on her delicate, smooth skin, right onto the lymph nodes around her neck.
“Sometimes these can be swollen when chronic conditions are present,” I say.
My mind fixates on the word “swollen,” and my chest brushes up ever so slightly against her pert, swollen breasts.
“Well these seem normal,” I say, reaching for the sterilized stethoscope around my neck.
“Aren’t you going to examine the rest of the lymph nodes?” says Mia. “My right armpits been feeling a little funny recently.”
“So you know something of medicine?” I say, taking an interest. Normally, patients who do their own “research” are something of a liability, but I don’t get that sense from Mia. She’s just a charming, intelligent young woman, an insane erection-causing young woman, I should add.
“Well,” says Mia. “As you know, my dad’s a doctor, and I’ve been reading a lot, trying to figure out what’s wrong with me.”
I nod, and move my hands under her armpits.
“It is a little swollen,” I say. “How long has it been like this?”
“Not too long,” says Mia. “A couple weeks.”
“I don’t think it has much to do with your main symptoms,” I say. “But one thing that crossed my mind is that you’ve been inside for a long time. Have you been taking…”
“Vitamin D?” says Mia, interrupting me. “Yup, right over there.” She points to a bookshelf completely filled with prescription bottles and vitamin supplements. “Those are all the things I’ve tried that haven’t helped.”
She gives me a sad sort of grin.
“You know,” she says, after a moment. “I think I had some sort of mark on my stomach that I noticed the other day. Maybe it’s part of these allergic reactions.”
“A mark?” I say. “Is it red, like a rash?”
“I don’t know how to describe it,” she says. “I’d better show you.”
I nod.
She pulls up her t-shirt a little, revealing another piece of her perfect body.
I can practically feel my heart thumping in my chest.
I’ve examined hundreds, if not thousands, of women in all states of undress, but I’ve never felt like this, like I might not be able to keep it professional.
“You know,” she says, looking down at her skin. “I forgot, I guess it’s higher up. I’m going to have to take off my shirt for you to see it. You don’t mind, do you?”
For a second, I could have sworn that I saw a glint in her eye. A mischievous look, a delicious one.
She reaches down and grips her shirt. She pulls it up slowly, letting it rest on her breasts, her big sexy bumps of resistance.
My cock springs to life.
Her breasts spring out at me. She’s wearing a sexy lace bra, that shows plenty of her gorgeous nubile cleavage.
Chapter 4
Mia
I still can’t get over the fact that this gorgeous doctor is here in my room, standing right next to me.
And now I’ve pulled my shirt off over my head, and I know it’s not my imagination: he’s glancing quite conspicuously at my breasts.
And I can see his raging hard cock in his pants.
He’s not awkward in the slightest, like that guy in my first semester.
Sure, he’s wearing a surgical mask, and wrapped in some ridiculous plastic wrap that keeps me from going into anaphylactic shock, or passing out. But, still… under all that, he’s gorgeous.
“I never knew doctors had tattoos,” I say, noticing for the first time a tattoo on the inside of his bicep as his shirt rides up.
“We’re humans too,” he says, his voice deep, rich, and impossibly sexy.
Does that have another meaning? He’s a human, too, in that he has human urges?
“I can see that,” I say, trying to make an innuendo about his raging hard cock.
But I’m just a young girl essentially, after all, and I’m not sure I even really know how to make innuendo. I’m not just out of practice when it comes to flirting, I’ve almost never done it. After all, in high school, I ignored everyone’s advances. It wasn’t until college I started trying to flirt, and I still cringe when I think of some of the awkward exchanges I had at the ends of the college lectures. One time, I went up to a boy I thought was cute, said “It’s Tom, right?” Because I’m pretty sure I had heard someone say that before. He gave me a look like he thought I was a double headed alien, and nodded his head. I freaked out, and simply ran out of the room.
I can tell that he’s trying to remain professional, but I keep catching him staring at my breasts.
“You’re a very beautiful young woman,” says Liam. “It’s a shame you’re stuck inside all the time.”
His voice is rich, like some kind of smoked honey. Does that product even exist? If not, someone should make it.
“I don’t get a lot of visitors,” I say, letting my voice sort of trail off.
His head is near me, right up against my face.
His body is like a presence that I can viscerally feel. My own body’s responding, but right now I don’t care in the least bit that my rock hard nipples are going to be completely visible in this lacy bra.
(No, it’s not an accident that I’m wearing my one sexy bra, rather than the rather plain ones I normally wear.)
For a second, I think he’s going to move his mask away from his face.
In this moment, I don’t care if it makes me pass out. Fuck, it would be worth it, just to see his face in person, just to feel his lips against mine.
My cell phone rings.
“It’s my dad,” I say.
Liam doesn’t say anything, but he takes a respectful step back.
I see him glancing at my breasts. There’s no way he could miss my nipples.
I pull my shirt down as I answer the phone, unable to think of any plausible reason that I should keep my shirt up, exposing my breasts to Liam, even though I desperately want to show him a lot more.
“Hi, Dad,” I say, picking up the phone.
I don’t take my eyes off Liam, who’s taking notes on his pad.
“How’s the appointment going so far?” says my dad. “Liam’s been up there for a while, and your mother and I were just wondering how it’s going. Has he thought of anything?”
I feel a pang of regret. I feel so badly for my parents, especially my mother. It’s been hard for them to watch their only daughter drop out of school and shut herself up in her room, apparently never to come out again. The atmosphere in the house has become tense and painful to experience. My mother hasn’t come into my room in the last week, saying that she’s feeling a little sick, and doesn’t want to risk spreading anything to me, but I know that it’s simply become too painful for her to see me like this.
“It’s going great,” I say. “I think Liam’s found something. He won’t tell me what it is yet.”
Liam gives me a wild-eyed look, mouthing “What?” at me.
But I just can’t disappoint my parents more. False hope is better than no hope.
“Tell Liam I’ll be waiting for him when he comes out,” says my dad.
I hang up.
“Why did you tell them that?” says Liam.
He doesn’t seem mad, but for a second I’m worried I’ve ruined whatever spark I might have imagined between us.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Everything OK in there?” comes my dad’s voice.
“I just talked to you on the phone,” I call back.
“I just wanted to make sure,” says my dad.
Liam grins at me. “He’s probably worried I’m putting the moves on you
,” he says in a low voice to me, so that only I can hear. “I don’t have the best reputation with women. Well, I’d better get going.”
“What about the exam?” I say, realizing that I might be sounding desperate, but not caring. After all, this is the first real human contact I’ve had in a long time… and it’s from the hottest guy I’ve ever met.
“I think I’ll come up with something,” he says, putting on an optimistic grin. I know that look all too well. That’s what countless doctors before me have told me, and nothing’s ever come from it.
“OK,” I say, trying to smile. But inside I’m more than disappointed.
When you’re locked in your room for a year, little things start to take on a much bigger significance.
As I watch Liam leaving through the door, walking through the folds of thick, clear sterilized plastic that create something of an airlock between my room and the outside, a feeling of complete desperation starts to take hold.
I want to reach out and grab him, pulling him towards me. I want to rip that mask off and just hold him.
Of course, I also want him to fuck me with that massive shaft that I saw in his pants earlier, fully erect at the sight of me.
But I’d settle for just being held, for just feeling his muscles against me, for feeling his bristly coating of stubble scratching my skin.
“Bye,” I say, my voice impossible to keep from sounding horribly sad.
“I’ll be back,” says Liam, his voice barely audible now through the mask and the plastic.
The door shuts behind him, and I can hear him talking to my dad on the other side. I can’t make out what they’re saying—just murmurs of their deep voices.
They’re discussing me, undoubtedly. For all I know, my worst fears will be confirmed and Liam will just tell my dad he thinks I’m some psychological nut case, just like plenty of the doctors. They always said that when they got fed up themselves and couldn’t come up with a solution. It’s an easy out for them, but it’s not an out for me at all.
I know I’m not making this up, and it’s not placebo. It’s something real.
I check my phone, almost frantically grabbing it from my nightstand, anxious for something, for some message from the outside world. Just a simple little message from Shelly would be enough.
SEAL'd Lips: A Secret Baby Romance Page 64