by Tammy Goaren
“Relax,” came the command again, this time from Ricky. Maria glanced over her shoulder to see his dick in his hand, glistening with lubricant as he positioned himself to enter her. She took several shaky breaths through her mouth, readying her body. George rocked back and forth beneath her, impatient at the sudden halt, and Maria angled her hips up.
“I’m ready,” she panted. Ricky slid himself slowly inside. As his tip penetrated her, he moaned in complete ecstasy. The sound of it was so powerful, Maria forced her muscles to relax, forced herself to take more of him in. It was so much, she felt so stuffed, there was no way it would fit. But it did. Ricky fit in her so deep, and a fire started to build in Maria’s chest.
“It’s so tight,” Ricky groaned, and the effect of his voice, the sheer pleasure of it, Maria felt the chain reaction building inside of her.
“So wet,” George said, voice full of the same appreciation.
When Steven pulled her face back to him, forcing himself back into her throat, it was too much. Maria came, her orgasm making her want to scream. She would have, if not for Steven’s cock in her mouth. As it was, she whimpered powerlessly around it as Ricky started up a rhythm. The motions were small and Maria knew that her friends weren’t getting even a fraction of what she was experiencing, but she couldn’t stop the spasming of her muscles, didn’t want to, couldn’t do anything but feel and keep feeling and she rode the sensations, letting her asshole pucker around Ricky as her fluids coat George’s front. There just wasn’t enough room inside of her, and more and more of her come kept flowing out of her.
After the waves of ecstasy ebbed, Maria wanted nothing more than to just go limp. A sharp slap to her cheek brought her back to the moment, though. At the contact, every one of Maria’s muscles contracted, out of shock more than anything else, but both Ricky and George moaned in pleasure. The laziness faded from Maria’s body and she returned to the matter at hand: giving her friends an experience to remember.
Maria sucked earnestly at Steven’s member, licking her saliva off of him just to spit it back on his shaft. She shifted her weight, letting Ricky pick up his pace and gain some momentum, and freed one of her hands to grasp Steven’s shaft.
Inside of her, George and Ricky slid against each other, separated by the thinnest amount of skin. There was almost no friction there, thanks to her own arousal and the lubricant, but the pressure of it was enough to set George off, and he hastily removed himself from her to spray come up on both his belly and hers. Maria freed her mouth and leaned down to kiss him fervently as he jerked more and more come from his cock. He kissed her back as best he could while panting.
Behind her, Ricky still thrust away, getting in deeper and faster with the extra space that had become available. He pulled her hips to smack against his, and Maria let her back arch as he found a particularly sensitive area. She let her mouth fall open again, sticking out her tongue to invite Steven back inside. He thrust in deep, and Maria barely applied any suction before he came straight down her throat. She swallowed, sucking lightly at Steven’s cock. His hand slid into her hair, and she gazed up to his face. He smiled at her, pulling away and letting her return her attention to Ricky.
She turned her head back to watch as he fucked her, and he greeted her attention with a sharp spank. Maria moaned, leaning into each of his thrusts. His pace was so fast, and it was starting to get erratic. Right as she guessed that he would finish soon, he pulled out of her, his come showering her back in hot droplets.
As Ricky’s hands left her, Maria finally let herself collapse onto George’s chest. He grunted as her elbow caught him in the ribs, but she was too exhausted to do more than mutter out a breathless apology.
“So I guess that’s how that works,” Maria said, voice hoarse. Ricky and George laughed. Steven ducked into his room, returning with a robe on and a towel in his hand. He wiped off Maria’s back and dabbed at the mess on her chin. “Shower?” she asked, struggling to roll off of George’s surprisingly comfortable body.
“It’s all yours,” Ricky said, pointing over his shoulder. “I think that the three of us need to take a minute. You know just, uh,” he trailed off, embarrassed out of nowhere.
“Shut the fuck up,” Steven muttered. “If you make this weird, I swear to God, you’ll be paying utilities alone for the next four months.”
Maria laughed, knowing that the friendship between them would need a hell of a lot more than this to sour or grow awkward. She grabbed her bag and made her way towards the bathroom, glad that she had finally found the relaxation that she had so desperately needed. From the sounds that she heard in the living room as she turned the faucet, it seemed that her friends had gotten to a similar mental state.
‘Maybe we could make this a habit,’ she thought, a lewd smile twisting at her mouth as she tested the water. Maria stepped into the shower and rinsed the come from her body, smile far from fading.
STORY FORTY-ONE
Chapter 1
I dressed quietly for my doctor’s appointment. It was early, and my husband snored loudly in bed as I glided a pair of nude thigh-highs over my legs. I put on my red dress over a black silk thong and didn’t bother with a bra. The dress was a trench-style, with a sash tied at the waist. It hugged my breasts tightly and exposed an ample amount of cleavage when I left the top two snap-buttons undone. I checked my makeup in the en suite bathroom, bouncing my curly brown locks one final time before sneaking back into the bedroom to retrieve my black patent-leather high heels with ankle straps. Tom didn’t stir.
On my way out of the bedroom, I stopped to take stock of him. He had kicked the blanket away from him, exposing the large gut hanging over the waistband of his tighty-whities. Tom had stayed out late drinking with the guys. He’d come into bed reeking of alcohol, as he did on far too many nights, and didn’t touch me. He rarely did nowadays, and I couldn’t get myself to care anymore. It was nearing eight in the morning, and he’d be late for work again. I slipped out the door and didn’t wake him. I had an appointment to make.
I sat in the chair next to the examining table in Dr. Truitt’s office. It was a small, private practice in the heart of town, run by only two doctors. I had never met the other doctor—Truitt was the first doctor I had seen when the place opened, and I hadn’t wanted to see anyone else since. I trusted him, with his kind brown eyes and his warm smile. I thought of his hands. His long, slim fingers as he had massaged my breasts during the last routine physical. His touch was gentle, yet skilled. Always warm.
And the place between my legs was getting warm as well, the more I thought about it. It had been two long, dull months since my annual physical, and I could think of nothing else but Dr. Truitt since. I looked at the ticking clock on the wall, wondering how long the wait would be. I relaxed my head back against the seat, parting my legs slightly as I did. Feeling incredibly naughty, I ran my hand between the crevices of my breasts, down the buttons of my red dress. When I reached my legs, I dipped my hand under the hem of my skirt that rested just above my knees, imagining it was Truitt’s hand. I hooked a finger into the flimsy fabric of my lace thong and pulled it to the side to expose the slick folds of my pussy. I gently teased my labia, then quickly plunged a finger into myself. I pumped it in and out several times. I looked to the door, daring it to open, thrilling at the thought of Dr. Truitt catching me as I pleasured myself.
As if he’d been reading my mind, there was suddenly a loud knock on the door. “Come in,” I said, quickly removing my finger and folding my hands neatly onto my lap before Dr. Truitt opened the door. I looked down, embarrassed, heat creeping up my neck. The skin of my forefinger glistened with my wetness.
Chapter 2
““Hello, Sophia,” Dr. Truitt looked up from his clipboard with his award-winning smile. He stilled suddenly, his eyes roaming over the curve of my cleavage, down my legs, to my high heels. I guess he wasn’t used to seeing me get so dressy for an appointment. For some reason, I wanted him to see me at my best. And despite my unh
appy predicament at home, I felt sexy as hell today. “I can’t say I’m sorry to see you, but it is too bad you aren’t feeling well this morning. What brings you in?”
He placed the clipboard on the counter and lowered his tall, athletic frame onto the rolling stool near the computer. He rolled right over to me and brought his hand up to my neck, feeling for my pulse and looking at his watch. I got lost in the silhouette of his face. The hard, angular jaw, the perfectly styled salt-and-pepper hair, complete with trimmed sideburns. No ring on his watch hand. No ring at all.
“I’ve been feeling…” I gulped, distracted by his fingers running up and down my neck, checking my glands. “I’ve been feeling rundown lately. Not like myself.”
“How is your diet?” he asked, jotting some notes down on his clipboard.
“It’s all right. I’ve lost a bit of weight, but I think it’s because I am so…stressed all the time. I’m tired, but I can’t sleep. My energy level is zero.”
“Well, you’re healthy, as we’ve concluded recently at your annual screening. At twenty-two, you shouldn’t be complaining about a lack of energy, at least not till you get to be my age.” He chuckled, the crow’s feet near his eyes crinkling in such a way that made him look ruggedly handsome.
I laughed along, getting lost in his chocolate eyes. “I guess,” I sighed. “I guess I’m having a hard time at home. My relationship…marriage…” I looked away shyly. “What about anti-depressants, doc? Or maybe just something for some energy? Some vitamins? I’m feeling…empty. Numb.”
His eyes searched mine, and for a long moment he said nothing as he stared at me, unblinking. I could swear I saw a shadow pass over his eyes, something dark yet urgent. Something like…hunger. Desire.
“Sophia, can you get on the examination table, please?” he said, his voice low and gruff.
“Should I, um, change into a gown?”
“No, that dress…” his gaze dropped to my breasts. “That dress will do just fine.”
I stood and clicked my heels over to the exam table. Dr. Truitt took my hand and helped me up the step. His placed his hand on my hip to support my balance as I turned and sat. The air seemed crackle between us. We had never talked personally about my home life before, and now that we had, there was some sort of tension between us. A thrilling, exciting tension.
He moved in close, placing the palm of his hand against my forehead. He slid his hand down gently, softly cupping my cheek. “You don’t feel warm.”
“The nurse already took my temperature with the thermometer before you came in,” I said, smiling.
“Mm-hmm. Let me just listen to your heart.”
His hands were at the buttons of my dress before he’d finished his sentence. He unsnapped two more gold buttons and pulled the shoulders of my dress down to the middle of my upper arms, exposing the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra. I heard a sharp intake of breath from the surprised doctor. The edges of my trench-style dress hung just at the line of my areolas, exposing a hint of the soft pink circles to the doctor. My breasts weren’t tiny, but they were petite and perky enough to go without a bra whenever I pleased.
With his eyes glued to my open dress, he held the stethoscope to his smooth, gorgeous lips and huffed a few times with his breath to warm it up. He placed the stethoscope on my chest just above my breasts and listened. Then he moved it down a bit. A shock of electric pleasure rode the way to my core as his pinky dipped below my dress and grazed against my nipple. He leaned in just a bit closer then, his hot breath on my neck. His waist shifted, and suddenly I felt the point of a frim, hard cock brush against my outer thigh.
“Doctor…” I breathed. A fire seemed to light under my chest, speeding my heart rate. “I don’t think you’re going to get an accurate reading like that.”
He dropped the stethoscope.
“Sophia,” he said. “I’d like to take a look at the freckles you were concerned about on your lower back during your last visit. I want to make sure none of them have changed shape or color. Not to concern you, but it’s good to rule out anything unusual if you’ve been feeling…not yourself lately.”
I stood up slowly on the step, confused, and got down off the table. Dr. Truitt guided my hips with his hands and turned me to face the table. My own hands shook as he took each of my wrists and placed them on the edge of the exam table. Then his hands were grasping my hips again, urging me to back up and bend forward as I grasped the edge of the table, my ass facing his crotch. I had never felt as alive during my two years of marriage as I felt within those intense five minutes with Truitt.
He lifted the hem of my dress and pushed it up and over my back, exposing the thin lines of my black silk thong and bare ass cheeks. I gulped, my throat as dry as sandpaper. He placed his warm hands on my lower back, and it sent delicious tingles up my spine.
A whimpering sound escaped my lips as he pressed his cock between the cheeks of my ass. “Stay just like this,” he whispered. “I’ll be right back.”
Suddenly, he let go of me. I heard him walking away, and I turned my head to look as he reached for the door. “Don’t move, Sophia,” he said again, a tinge of warning in his voice.
I was sure my face was scarlet, it was so hot at that point. He’d left me, ass up, with my dress over my back and my thong and ass completely exposed. The thin fabric over my vagina was soaking wet by now. I stayed in position as I had been told for what felt like an excruciatingly long time. When I heard the door open, my heart skipped.
“Holy fuck,” came an unfamiliar male voice that did not belong to Dr. Truitt.
Chapter 3
My heart froze and I immediately straightened up and turned to face whoever was in the room. Beside Dr. Truitt was another handsome doctor in a white coat. He looked to be about the same age as Truitt, in his mid-forties. He had a shock of silver hair. He’d apparently grayed early, à la Richard Gere, and it suited him very well.
“I apologize, Sophia. I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Dr. Truitt said. “This is Dr. Preston. I thought it would be good to get a second opinion for you. He specializes in dermatology.”
Dr. Preston was just a bit taller than Dr. Truitt. He adjusted the black rectangular frames of his glasses as he drank in my body from head to toe with his gaze. I looked down and gasped, realizing that the top of my unbuttoned dress had shifted so that my breasts were now fully exposed. I covered myself with my hands. Part of me was frightened and wanted to run out of there. I knew this was not a typical medical exam. Another part of me was thrilled at the prospect of two men—two doctors—eating me up. At the moment, they were both devouring me with their eyes like that was exactly what they had in mind.
“Wait,” Dr. Preston said, stepping toward me. “Lower your dress again.”
I hesitated, but the longing in this stranger’s eyes somehow made me want to do as he asked.
“You have a freckle, here.” He touched the top of my breast, rubbing the single round freckle with his warm fingers. “It looks completely fine. A lovely beauty mark. Now turn around, and let’s have a look at that backside.”
Dr. Truitt stepped up and guided me into the same position as before: hands on the exam table, bent at the hips so that my ass was sticking up and out. Dr. Preston stood on my left side as Dr. Truitt lifted my dress again.
“Now, would you look at that, Dr. Preston.”
“You were correct, Dr. Truitt.” Dr. Preston reached out and felt the skin of my back—the spot just above my tail bone where I had a patch of freckles. “Everything looks just fine.”
“Thanks for confirming,” Dr. Truitt said.
“I would like to check things a bit more thoroughly, however.”
I stiffened when I felt Dr. Preston’s bare hand on the left cheek of my buttocks. On my right side, Dr. Truitt gabbed a handful of right ass cheek. Both men pulled so that my cheeks spread wide apart, totally exposing my ass and cunt to them beneath the thin silk line of my thong, which had slipped between the folds of my wet slit. I
felt another hand grazing the lace elastic top of my stocking. “Glorious,” Dr. Preston said.
“I told you,” Truitt replied.
“What are you doing?” I asked them, my voice shaky. The air on my wet, exposed sex was like nothing I’d ever felt before. My nipples were hard as diamonds and could cut glass. As naughty and taboo as this was, I was more aroused than I had been in a long time.
“Shh,” Dr. Truitt whispered. “I have something that may help the way you’ve been feeling. Down,” he said, pushing my lower back with his free hand until my torso and breasts were pressed flat against the exam table. The angle caused my butt to lift even higher. “I’d like to just check you. Here.”
He kept one hand pressed firmly on my cheek to keep me spread wide. I gasped when I felt his other hand teasing the folds of my soaking wet cunt. In one quick motion, he slipped his finger under the flimsy fabric of my thong and inserted it into my sex. He plunged his finger deep into me, and I moaned and whimpered at the same time. My breathing increased as he pumped in and out. I felt him add another finger, then another.
“Ahh,” I cried out. The muscles of my vagina instantly tightened, and I felt a warmth start to gather deep within my pelvis.
“Fuck, you are a dripping wet girl,” Truitt said.
“I’m going to check you as well,” Dr. Preston said. I moaned in response, so overwhelmed with what was happening that I barely registered what he’d said. The feeling of desire—not only my desire, but the feeling of being so desired that two men just had to touch me—consumed my emotions.
Dr. Preston let go of my ass, and I heard an odd sound, like a bottle being opened and squeezed. When he touched me again, it was in the last place I’d expected. He placed his hand back on my left ass check and helped Dr. Truitt spread me again. Then, with his other hand, he began to massage a cold, slick gel over my anus. I jumped a bit, panicking at the sensation.