by Emma Roberts
As the door of my office was pushed open, I knew in short order that it was the receptionist I’ve spent the most time with entering the room. I could never quite place her name, but she didn’t seem terribly troubled by the fact that I didn’t care enough about her to remember her name. I doubt she cared all that much about me either. Except that I had a big dick, a big ego, and could fuck a girl’s brains out just how she liked. That’s all any girl ever saw in me, and honestly, that’s how I liked it. It would be outright tragic if some nice girl developed feelings for me. Fortunately, this particular receptionist — Angela, if I remembered correctly — wasn’t a nice girl by any means.
“Oh, Davey,” she cooed, sauntering toward my desk with her breasts nearly popping the buttons of her blouse. Our relationship wasn’t professional by any means – in fact, I’d go as far as saying it was the exact opposite of professional. She never seemed to care about putting up any sort of front, however, not even for our clients. It might have been refreshing if I didn’t need this job so badly.
“Hello,” I answered mildly, not wanting to give too much away. Honestly, I was a bit annoyed by her presence in my office. I had work to do, and we were booked solid at the clinic. If she wanted to get off, she could go diddle herself in the bathroom as far as I was concerned. I didn’t plan to do anything to jeopardize my position as lead physician at the clinic, at least not today. She rested her hip against the side of my desk just the same, her too-short skirt hiking up on her thighs. She offered me a sultry smile, but I simply rolled my eyes and turned my attention to my schedule.
“You always stay so busy. I’m starting to think you don’t have enough time for me.”
I ignored her, sorting through my files. I was a doctor; of course I was busy. It wasn’t as if I had a job where I could sit behind a desk and check people into the clinic all day. Even on my lunch break, I had work to take care of. It was rare that I even got a break, and I didn’t plan to waste the little downtime I did get with Angela.
“It’s the nature of the beast, ‘ela,” I mused casually, ignoring the scrutinous look she turned upon me. I paused in spite of myself, closing my file as she seemed to grow more agitated. “What is it that you need?”
“After all of this time, you still don’t know my name? After all of the times you’ve bent me over your desk, you can’t even remember my name?!”
“It’s Angela, isn’t it?”
“Angel! It’s Angel!”
I lowered my eyes to my desk, not horribly affected by her outburst. She was lucky I had even remembered the first syllable of her name, but she didn’t seem to appreciate how many women I’d spent my time with.
“Angel, then. What can I help you with?” I asked coolly, checking on when my next appointment was scheduled and praying it was in the next twenty minutes or so. Unfortunately, I had around an hour before the next patient would be coming in, which meant I had to deal with Angela — shit, Angel — for the next forty-five minutes or so.
“I want you to fuck me. I’ve been trying to send you signals all day, but you’re too dense,” she hissed out. That wasn’t exactly the whole truth. I wasn’t dense. I had picked up on the signals. After all, the receptionist wasn’t subtle by any means. I just hadn’t been interested. She was too common, too usual. I was tired of dealing with the usual fuck toys I played around with, at least for the next few days.
I wanted more. I wanted more excitement than Angel could offer me. As exhilarating as it was to fuck her against the door of my office while it nearly bounced off its hinges, it wasn’t enough right now. It hadn’t been enough for some time.
“The clinic is booked solid today. I don’t exactly have the time to waste getting you off.” That was cold, but I couldn’t afford to be particularly warm with her today. She would get the wrong idea, like she always did. She even seemed to have the wrong idea now. Did she think she was in charge of our relationship? Did she think she got to choose when I wanted to fuck?
“It’s not exactly a waste of time if you’re getting off too, is it?” she pressed. I hesitated for a moment before smiling politely.
“I need to conserve energy. Like I said, it’s going to be a long day. I don’t have time to bust a nut in every woman who steps into my office. I’m sure you understand,” I said mildly. Her expression twisted into one of rage, and I expected her to go off on me. I was prepared for her nonsense, though I would have liked to avoid dealing with it.
“Alright. Well, maybe if you’d take the time to ask me on a date instead of just fucking around with me in the office…” she trailed off, her expression hopeful. As partial as I was to the sound of her desperate mewls when I plunged into her just right, I would never consider dating Angel. She was too easy. I know, I know, it’s a bit hypocritical for me to comment on someone being easy, but I had my own priorities.
“You know I’m not interested in a relationship, Angel,” I said simply, staring at her for a moment before returning my attention to the file in front of me. I jotted some notes regarding the patient, making my best effort to ignore the other individual in my office as I worked.
“You won’t even give me a chance,” she whined, stomping her foot much like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Nope.”
I watched as she seemed to grow increasingly agitated, as if she were going to explode at any given moment. It might have been entertaining to watch, that is, if she would actually blast into thousands of pieces. It wasn’t a kind thought, but I’d been dealing with this receptionist longer than I liked to consider.
“Fine!”
With that indignant shout, she turned her back on me and stalked out of my office. Of course, she slammed the door shut behind her, but I’d expected as much. I frowned to myself, shaking my head in disbelief. It seemed that I would have to find someone else to occupy my time, considering how clingy the receptionist was getting. Perhaps I’d been calling on her services too often, for too long. It wouldn’t do for her to form an attachment to me, though it seemed like too little, too late at this point. There was only one solution to my problem.
Flipping through my day book, I blocked out my plans for that night. A trip to the Red Room was in order, of that I had no doubt. It was the hippest nightclub in town, and there were a plethora women who frequented the place — women who would love to get plowed by a handsome doctor with a huge cock. It was just the place I needed to escape to. I wouldn’t be playing any games that night. I knew what I wanted from my trip to the Red Room, and I planned to get it.
Look out, ladies.
CHAPTER THREE
Kimberly
“I could kill you for your little stunt at work today.”
Tiffany paid me little mind as she sorted through my closet, which seemed to be her favorite activity any time she stopped in my apartment. She often suggested that I get some sort of makeover and allow her to take me shopping for some sexier clothes, but that seemed impractical. I wasn’t exactly the type to go out clubbing, and most of my off time was spent in my apartment, searching the internet for interesting assignments for my students. It wasn’t as if I was going to attract some sort of stud while I was hunched in front of my desk, my glasses slipping down the bridge of my nose at every inopportune moment.
“The kids were fine; I don’t know what you’re so worried about,” she answered belatedly, and I resisted the desire to roll my eyes. It didn’t take much for the other teacher to become preoccupied, especially when it came to preparing an outfit for the rare opportunity when she could drag me out of my apartment. Spending an evening at the Red Room was the last thing I wanted to devote my spare time to, but I had been something of a homebody lately.
“They bolted. They could have gotten hurt. You know they’re not old enough to navigate the school on their own. If they’d gotten lost, I could have gotten fired—” I paused as my voice cracked a bit. “I don’t know what I would do without this job, Tiff. Work is everything to me. Ever since Chad broke up with me…”
I trailed off, falling silent as she turned an angry look on me.
“Your ex was a dick, Kim. You need to forget about him. It’s not like he’s the only fish in the sea. He’s like a fucking fish stick in a classy seafood buffet. You deserve lobster tail, honey. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise,” she said, her voice a mix of firm yet somehow comforting. I nodded quietly, fidgeting with the bottom edge of my towel as she continued to search through my wardrobe.
I’d only managed to get a short shower before the other teacher had started pounding on my door, but that was pretty normal for our outings. Tiffany was nothing if not excitable, and honestly, I was past the point of caring if she saw my bare ass or tits when my towel slipped. It had been awkward at first, becoming friends with another teacher. When she’d first invaded my after-shower routine, I’d been humiliated to the point of wanting to sink into the floor. She had never seemed to care about personal boundaries, dismissing me with the reassurance that mine weren’t the first breasts she’d seen. I could only wonder if she was referring to her own or someone else’s, but after a while, I’d learned to live with her eccentricities.
“Seems like we’re having a lobster shortage in these parts,” I remarked belatedly, striding to my vanity and beginning to apply my makeup. I wore makeup when teaching at school, but that makeup was a stark difference from what I apply for a night out. On the schoolyard, I strove for a natural look — not that any of the children would notice either way. It was more of a self-care sort of thing. When it came to clubbing, however, I looked just short of a personal escort in what I could only hope was a good way. I’d never been particularly good at makeup, but Chad had insisted I learn if I was going to be seen with him. “And you’re right. Fuck Chad.”
“Amen, sister,” Tiffany agreed, emerging from the wardrobe with the little black dress I saved for special occasions. I raised a brow as she held it up to me in a rather appraising manner, meanwhile continuing to work on my lip liner. “This will be perfect. Jaws will hit the floor, Kim; I’m sure of it,” she announced, pressing the dress into my hands as I finished up my makeup. I considered the dress somewhat reluctantly, having internally dubbed it my ‘getting laid’ dress. I hadn’t worn it in some time, and it would be no small wonder if it even still fit me.
“I’m not sure. Don’t you think I should go a bit tamer?” I replied, shuffling into the dress nonetheless. I expected it to snag on my hips or my gut, but surprisingly, it fit me like a glove. Thank God for small miracles.
“Tame doesn’t get dick, Kimmy,” Tiffany grinned, touching up her eyeliner in my mirror. I couldn’t help but laugh at how crude she was being, but she had a point. I needed to get out of my shell a bit, take my mind off of the douchebag and realize that maybe, just maybe, there were actual decent guys in the world.
I wasn’t getting my hopes up too high, though.
“I take it you’re driving tonight? I’ll need to loosen up a bit if I’m going to do any flirting. God knows I’m rusty,” I sighed, looking myself over in the mirror. Not half bad, even by my own standards.
“Have you ever been good at flirting?”
Ouch.
“Of course I’m driving. Assuming, of course, you don’t find your own way home,” she continued, glancing at me with a rather sly expression. I reddened, flattening my dress and refusing to meet her gaze. I didn’t think I’d be that lucky on my first outing in months, but I supposed one could hope.
“We’ll see then,” I said noncommittally, trying to sound even the slightest bit confident. Tiffany knew me too well to believe my farce, however.
“You’ll be fine, girl. Just work that charm of yours, and shake your ass a bit on the dance floor. You’ll have plenty of studs drooling over you. I’m sure of it,” she assured me, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
I could only hope she was right. I had no misconceptions that this outing would change my life, but I hoped it would be fun at least.
“Alright, then. I guess, let’s get a move on — get the whole embarrassing myself part of the evening out of the way,” I said with a faint grin, casting a final glance into the mirror to consider my outfit. For once, my makeup was on point, and my hair had been meticulously curled into a fancy up-do. The little black dress hugged all of my curves in all the right places, and truth be told, I was a bit startled by how good I looked. Maybe a bit of confidence was all I needed, after all.
My attention was drawn away from the mirror by Tiffany, who gripped my wrist tightly in her hand. Apparently, she had gotten bored of simply watching me observe my own reflection. Not that I could blame her. She only released my hand when she was certain I was trailing along behind her, and when she did, she rubbed her hands together almost maniacally. I could only wonder what was going on in that strange mind of hers. She led me to her car, which was nearly too small for the two of us to comfortably fit in, and turned the ignition with a small smile. She seemed to have relaxed somewhat once she was free of my apartment and, by association, free of the evidence of my depressing life. She hadn’t said as much, but that was only because I’d not pressed her.
“We’re both getting a good fuck tonight; I can feel it,” she murmured excitedly, shifting the car into gear and tearing out of the parking lot. I clutched either side of the seat, not entirely sure I wouldn’t be launched through the windshield, seatbelt or not. The steady bass of the radio playing through the busted speakers of her sound system was somewhat soothing, and like every other time I’d been driven somewhere by Tiffany, I prayed for my life to be spared. She seemed well aware of my discomfort, grinning as she took her hand off of the wheel and gave my shoulder a shake. “Come on, kid. Get a little bit excited,” she teased.
“You’re hardly old enough to be calling me kid, you know,” I muttered, relaxing into the seat and watching as the scenery of the concrete jungle passed outside of my window. The Red Room was located deep in the downtown district, which made it an interesting ride, regardless of how the experience at the club itself went. That wasn’t to say the club lacked its charms. The wealthiest and most handsome men in the entirety of the city made a habit of visiting the ritzy nightclub, usually looking for a quick lay. In most circumstances, I would have considered myself above indulging them.
But it had just been so long.
“You act like a kid, Kim. Maybe that explains your fascination with children,” Tiffany said idly, and although I leveled her with a glare, I knew she was simply having a bit of fun at my expense.
“I like to see the best in people, Tiff. The best in situations. It’s difficult sometimes, but every date doesn’t have to end with a dick in your mouth,” I replied calmly, hoping to get her goat. She only laughed, smacking her lips together as she pulled into a parking spot outside of the club. She rummaged in her purse and removed a tube of cherry lip gloss, applying it to her lips with a cheeky little grin.
“No, not every date. Only the best ones,” she replied, unfastening her seatbelt and lurching out of the car. I hesitated a moment before following her path, fidgeting with my dress as we made our way to the entrance. There was a line as usual, and I expected to be waiting for some odd hours while Tiffany made an attempt to flirt with the bouncer. That was always the worst part of coming to these clubs — the wait to get in. However, the bouncer seemed to recognize Tiffany as she approached, and come to think of it … I recognized him! It was one of the younger janitors at our school!
“Jim? What are you doing here?” I demanded, as if he had no right to witness my slutty night out. He smiled, seemingly at ease with the entire situation.
“Needed another job to put a bit of extra dough on the table. Janitorial work isn’t the best paying job in the world, you know,” he said casually, opening the door for us. “Tiffany called ahead of time and told me you guys would be showing up. What sort of gentleman would I be if I didn’t make room for you on the guest list?” He grinned, his eyes lingering on Tiffany’s ass as we passed. She seemed a bit entertained by the a
ttention, but I could only hope the young man wasn’t checking me out as well.