Dr. Single Dad: A Single Doctor and Virgin Romance

by Dark Angel

  “Don’t even think about it,” she says, her tone soft but commanding. “Your cock is now mine, and you can only cum when I say so.”

  I almost grab her by the hair and pull her head back to my cock, shooting my load into her face despite her bossiness. But, instead, I grit my teeth and clench my muscles hard, feeling my semen receding back down deep inside my body. Lets let her have some fun. Let’s let her take control. Let’s see what she’s got inside of her.

  I nod.

  “Good,” she whispers, her tongue jabbing at the tip of my head. “Very good…Now, can you take more…?”

  The palms of her hands go to my chest, pushing me back against the leather couch. Like a tiger ready to jump on its prey she climbs on top of me, her movements fluid and deliberate. She grabs my cock with one hand and, rubbing its head against her pussy’s moist outer lips, she whispers her question once more against my ear.

  “Can you take more, Mr. Hawke…?”

  “I can take a lot more.” That was my curt response as, with an upwards push of my hips, I sheathe my cock deep inside her, her inner warmness embracing my pulsing skin. She moans as I felt the walls of her pussy stretching and stretching, working hard to accommodate my thickness. I plant my hands on her ass, pulling her cheeks with outstretched hands as my cock pounds her pussy without mercy.

  Fuck, I’m close once more, my cum straining deep in my body, aching for release. I don’t care if I cum in her mouth or in her pussy, I just want to feel that sweet discharge of electricity running through my body, my cum gushing out in a torrent. But, once more, she can feel my urges and she yanks on my hair, her voice against my ear leaving no space for disobedience.

  “Don’t… you… fucking… dare!” She whispers, her hips now setting the rhythm—a more gentle tempo, enough for me to catch my breath and pull myself together. “You want to cum real bad, don’t you?”

  You bet I do, I thought to myself, unable to pronounce the words as I struggle against the urge to shoot my load inside of her.

  “I know you do.” She whispers, swaying her thighs and delighting herself as my thickness rubs against her insides. “But I’m in charge here… I tell you when to cum.”

  I bury my face between her tits, breathing her scent in. I’m going crazy, my cock feeling hard as steel, my tense muscles almost bursting at the seams as sweat starts trickling down my body. I don't know for how much longer I'm able to hold on.

  She rides me hard, showing no mercy to the pleading in my face. My cock's hers, even if only in this short moment of time, and she can do with it as she pleases.

  “Now…” She moans, tugging at my ear with her pearly white teeth. “Now I’m going to come. I’m going to come and you’ll have to remain hard…Say it.”

  “You’re going to come…” I manage to say through gritted teeth.

  She pulls hard on my hair, her voice commandeering him.

  “And?”

  “And I’m going to remain hard.” I mutter.

  “Yes… Yes, you will.” Her knees chafes against the leather couch’s pillows as she rocks her body over me, my cock sliding furiously in and out of her, her juices covering it over and over again. She takes her fingers to her clit and, throwing her head back and closing her eyes, she presses and rubs on it, thunder spreading through her loins. Her body jolts as my cock goes deep, hitting that sweet spot buried deep inside her. She screams, pushing her shaking thighs against me as her hands pull my hair uncontrollably. She doesn’t know anything at the moment... but she doesn’t care. In that single moment, the only thing she cares about is the endless explosion of pleasure happening all over her body, making her skin boil as if she's about to disintegrate.

  She grins, breathing in deeply as I pull out my cock from inside of her now too sensitive pussy, her whole body shuddering as its thickness passes through her outer lips.

  “Stroke it… Stroke it for me…” She tells me, grabbing my wrist and guiding my hand. I do as I’m bid, my fingers grasping my member and moving up and down. I know I can’t hold much longer and, if I try to, something will pop inside my head. “Cum… Cum for me…”

  Three words. Three words from her and my cock immediately explodes, warm white semen gushing outward and covering her belly in thick ropey strands. My fingers claw at her ass as my whole body feels as if it’s ripping apart, my muscles so tense I can almost swear I hear the flesh tearing apart from the bones.

  “Holy… fuck!” I mutter through pursed lips, my brow furrowed in effort. I’m gushing so much cum that it’s splattering her whole body, dripping down from her tits and belly to her legs and pussy and then, finally, trickling onto the floor in thick drops.

  I close my eyes and lean back, my exhausted and trembling body reclining against the couch. I sigh heavily, tender fingers softly grasping my hair, and force my eyelids open. Ashley’s eyes are on me, watching, a twinkle of mischievousness on them.

  I give her a wide devilish fucking grin and, still reeling myself from everything, tell her the first thing that crosses my mind.

  “You are fucking amazing.”

  She says nothing, but something flashes behind her eyes—something that seems confident and yet sad at the same time.

  Ashley

  “Hi this is Misty, who am I speaking with?” I say into the phone as I lean back. I’ve put on white lace stockings with a matching white lace thong and lace bra. I have heels on, and I decide to recline on my sofa.

  The truth is, I need this. I need to get back to de-personalizing the sex—especially after yesterday morning.

  I can still remember the events as they happened.

  “You are fucking amazing,” Arsen said to me as I stared up at him, his cum dripping from my face and body. In that moment, the fog of lust began to slowly clear from my brain and for a moment, I felt…what was it? Familiarity? Love?

  I quickly got up from the floor of his living room and ran to the bathroom. I showered as quickly as I could and put on my clothes to look as presentable as possible.

  “Where are you going?” Arsen asked me when I emerged all prepared for the day.

  “Some of us have to work, you know?” I asked back, rhetorically.

  He snorted and took a step closer to me. I took a step back.

  I can’t understand why.

  “Hi Misty,” the voice on the phone breathes. “My name is Max.”

  “Oh, I’ve been waiting for someone like Max with a sexy name all day long,” I coo into the phone. “What are you wearing?”

  As Max goes on and on about what he’s wearing, I think back to how I left Arsen’s apartment yesterday morning.

  “I thought we could get brunch,” Arsen said to me as I made for the door.

  I kept walking.

  “Is everything okay?” Arsen asked again. This brought me up short. I turned to him.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that you owned the strip club?” I asked him.

  He stared at me, putting on a robe so he wasn’t completely naked and walked over.

  “Does it bother you?” he asked.

  I think it did bother me. Even now, I think it still bothers me.

  “What bothers me the most though is what Yasmine said,” I replied back to him. “She said that the owner of the strip club also owned the phone sex company that I work at. Called…”

  He didn’t let me finish. “Simulated Pleasures, LLC,” he finished my sentence for me. “And yes, I own that as well.”

  At first I didn't know what to say. But I know that Arsen was watching me.

  “That means you know what I do for a living,” I stated. It wasn’t so much a question as more a statement to myself. “You know what I’ve had to do in the past. How I’ve had to dance.”

  Arsen nodded. “I don’t care about any of that,” he said. “I only inherited this company from my father…”

  But I didn't let him finish. “I don’t think this is appropriate, Arsen,” I said. “You own the company I work for, and I don’t think we�
�d ever be equals in any sort of relationship.”

  Arsen snorted and looked at me. “Are you fucking serious?” he asked as he got up. “You didn’t let me cum just now till you were ready for me!”

  My defenses must have gone up because I gave him a fake plastic smile and looked at him. “Goodbye Arsen,” I said. “Take care.”

  And with that I walked out of his apartment toward the elevator. I stayed still all through the elevator and kept my composure. It was only when I get into the cab that I looked into my lap and tried to make as little noise as possible as I began to cry.

  “Hello?” the voice of Max jars me awake from my reverie.

  I start and look at the meter on my computer. I recently installed the software that the office gave me. It shows how long the call has been going and the estimated charges as well as the royalties I should expect.

  “Are you still there?” Max asks, a bit unsure as to why a phone sex operator would put him on hold.

  The thought makes me smile and I let my smile color my voice. “I’m still here, baby,” I whisper into the phone. “Just hearing you talk started getting me so hot and bothered I needed a place to lay down.”

  “Oh yeah?” I can see the ear-to-ear grin on Max’s face as he asks this. “What are you wearing?”

  “Oh baby, I put on a special lace white thong on for you just now, and a matching bra,” I reply back. “Do you like that?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” Max says into the phone. “I like that a lot.”

  “How do you want me?” I ask him. I’ve been learning. Sometimes I lead the conversation. Sometimes when I’m feeling generous, I let the client lead. I’ve been trying to get the clients talking more instead of just getting them off as quickly as possible. I think it does two things. It keeps them on the phone longer. But more importantly, having them talk about themselves starts making them regulars. They end up investing in me emotionally.

  “I want to bend you over and slide your panties off,” Max whispers into the phone.

  “Ooh, yeah, baby, I like that,” I say into the phone. I can’t help it, but I picture bending over the table in my kitchen with Arsen behind me.

  “I want to rub my hands up and down your body, and take off your bra so I can lick those hard nipples of yours,” Max says slowly.

  “Oh, they’re so hard right now,” I say into the phone. And guess what? They are. Because I’m thinking of this happening to me. With Arsen, no less. I can’t help it. I can’t get his body out of my head. But more than his body. He’s got the heart of a saint. I know he says he’s not a good man. But he’s been nothing but gracious to me. Kind, warm, protective … loving.

  I want to use one hand to squeeze those nipples as I suck them,” Max says into the phone. “I want to use the other hand to smack that ass.”

  I close my eyes and picture Arsen squeezing my tits. Of Arsen slapping my ass cheek.

  “Sounds like you like it, baby,” Max says. I didn’t realize it but I had given an involuntarily moan into the phone.

  “I want to slap that ass,” Max says again. He’s breathing erratically. I can tell he’s stroking himself. “Hard.”

  “Ohhh, baby,” I moan. He’s starting to have an effect on me. I bring my free hand down and begin to gently rub my clit over my panties.

  “I want to lower my face and use my tongue to lick around your folds,” Max says.

  Arsen’s face as he licked my pussy goes through my head. As he scooped out cum with his tongue before he fed it to me.

  “Ohhhh,” I groan as arcs of pleasure start to permeate through my body. Max continues, obviously excited by the fact that his words seem to be having a real and noticeable affect on me.

  “I want to pull out my cock and…” Max continues but somehow I stop paying attention to what he says.

  All I can see, and trust me, it seems so real, is Arsen stroking his thick, 12-inch cock in front of me. I’m on my knees. Then all of a sudden I’m grinding my ass against that hard cock of his. Like yesterday morning. Feeling it pulse. Thick and hard.

  I can feel Arsen’s hands on my body as I begin to stimulate my clit. I can feel his thick and powerful tongue flick my clit. I can feel him use his tongue to press against my clit, playing with it. Teasing it. Massaging it. Biting it. Licking it. Sucking it.

  Oh my God. What am I doing? Is Max still on the line?

  I don’t care. But I don’t dare talk. All I do is moan. All I do is breathe and mewl.

  In my head, Arsen is my Angel of Sin. I run my tongue between the creases of his abs. He runs his tongue over my asshole.

  Shudders of pleasure go through me. My body seizes up. I let loose a growl. And then a lewd moan escapes my lips as I forget all about what's polite. A seizure of ecstasy travels through my body and I’m left shaking for a moment.

  I’m light-headed when I open my eyes. I’m panting. Sweating. Hot.

  “That was so fucking hot!” Max says into the phone.

  I want to reply, but I can’t. I just lay there, my panties damp and my body satisfied.

  “I’m calling you back every day!” Max says. He says something more but I honestly am having trouble paying attention. It’s the most I can do to tell him I’ll be waiting and then he hangs up.

  I look at the computer. He was on the line for 15 minutes. That’s at least $54. With $26 going to me. Not a bad gig for 15 minutes of work.

  I could get used to this.

  And then an email pops up on my phone.

  “Congratulations on a solid 5-star rating from all clients over the last 24 hours!” the email reads. It goes on to congratulate me on my repeat clients and my rating.

  I read it and realized that I just made Arsen half the money that I’m getting. Maybe it goes to other people, but it’s based on a company he started and still owns.

  The thought chills me. With so much sex at this man’s disposal, why is he interested in me? And how long will it even last? With those looks and body of his, I’m surprised if he ever speaks to me again. It’s already been over 24 hours and I haven’t heard from him at all.

  Don’t get me wrong. I’m not prude or anything. I’ve had a pretty dirty past and I’m very, very sexual as you can tell.

  But Arsen is a line that’s in a completely different league. And right now, this job and the money it affords me needs to take priority. The only way I can do that is by keeping Arsen Hawke at arm’s length.

  I hope to myself that his gorgeous body will start to fade from memory over time.

  But the part of my brain that uses logic tells me that I’m already in too deep. There’s nothing I can do now, it tells me.

  Great. Thanks for nothing, brain!

  Arsen

  "You've made a smart choice," Luca Giannoni says, clapping his meaty hand on my shoulder. "I was beginning to think you weren't going to take my calls." His hand could belong to a Sasquatch. I swear it's hairy enough, and there's no doubt that this guy is an animal. I feel the weight of his hand on my body and wonder why he thinks he needs to be so passive aggressive.

  "It's been a busy few weeks," I say, and shrug off the comment. But honestly, all I can think about is how I haven't had sex with Ashley in over a week.

  "Sure it has, but listen, don't ever mistake my kindness for weakness. Mr. Morozov doesn't take well to being ignored."

  I sense the thinly veiled threat in his voice and I hand him the signed document, slamming the pen down on the desk. I need to get out of this office before he really pisses me off and I do something I shouldn't. "Well, none of that matters anymore. Here's the paperwork. The ownership transfer of these clubs is now in the hands of Mr. Morozov."

  With one hand rolled into a tight fist in the pocket of my suit, I turn around and give him a wave with my other free hand. There's a fake smile plastered across my face, and I leave the room before Luca can respond. I walk outside, and hail a cab. The sun is so bright that I take a moment to stop and find my sunglasses. The cab pulls up and as I open the car door and
slide into the back seat, I think about the transaction that just transpired.

  Here I am, a fucking Harvard MBA graduate, and I'm making deals with the Russian mob. What the hell am I doing with my life? And as soon as I ask myself that question, Ashley pops into my mind. Fuck she's beautiful… maybe even perfect. I've seen a lot of smoking hot women in my lifetime, but she tops them all. Fucking her was unbelievable… it's been painful that it's been over a week. I pull out my phone and decide to send her a text. I hesitate for a moment, staring at the chat screen, and thinking about what exactly to say. Fuck it; I'm definitely overthinking this. Why am I acting like such an idiot? I text, "Let's meet up."

  Before I can even slip the phone back into my pocket, she responds, "I don't think that's a good idea."

  What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I text back, "Why not?"

  I wait for a few minutes, but she doesn't respond. I give it another couple of minutes, and still nothing. This is driving me crazy. If she doesn't want to reply to my texts, I'll reach her another way—through her direct phone sex line. I'm not one to give up—I always get what I want.

  I dial her line and wait. The phone rings, and then I hear her. She picks up.

  "Hi, this is Misty. Who am I speaking with?"

  The first thing I notice is that her voice sounds different—smooth and sultry, and I swear my cock is already twitching. She's a good actress, that's for sure. But she can't find out it's me on the other end of the line, so I lower my voice and muffle it with the fabric of my suit.

  "King Henry."

  "Oh, I've never spoken to a king before," she purrs.

  "Good, because I'm the only king that matters. You belong to me, don't you?"

  "Mm hmm," she whispers.

  "Tell me that you belong to me, Kitten," I demand.

  "I do. You're my king and I belong to you," she coos, maintaining a smooth, even voice.

  "Good, Kitten. Now I want you to tell me what you'd do to my cock if I was with you right now."