Darling Doc

by Raven McAllan

  “Then show me the way.” He bowed oh so theatrically. “Not the how to do it bit, I think I’ve got that sorted.” He winked and stroked an imaginary moustache. I loved this silly side of him.

  “Come into my parlor, also known as bedroom?”

  “Exactly. First time conventional?”

  Dare I say, oh hell, I hope not?

  I pushed open the door, even more thankful now I’d hidden the washing, both clean and dirty, and stashed the condoms. Wished I’d time to defuzz, but there was nothing I could do about hairy armpits, legs, and pussy. Maybe I could get him so delirious with the sex, he’d ignore those shortcomings.

  Oh hell, I hope he wasn’t one of those people turned on by hairy pits. That would be the, well, pits.

  Alistair took the initiative, thank goodness.

  “As much as I want to savor every second,” he murmured as he pulled my top over my head and threw it in the general direction of a chair. “And I want to explore every delectable inch of you, sadly this time I’m not going to get everything I want. I just hope I make it good enough for both of us that you want me to come back. Treat this as the starter, with lots more courses to come. And not all what you’d call conventional either.”

  Well, as I hadn’t even had the starter yet, how could I answer? Hallelujah might not be acceptable. I gave a sort of “mm hmmm” and swayed closer to him, and fumbled with the button on his leather trousers. After all, if he was even half as aroused as I was there was a good chance he’d be wet, and who wants pre-cum stains on leather?

  I managed to slip the zipper down a few inches and get my fingers inside the material to touch his cock.

  As I’d thought—hoped—it was hard, slick, and yeah, the tip was oh so wet.

  Nice.

  “Shit, love, if you touch my cock I’ll come here and now.” His voice was hoarse with strain. “At least let me taste you. Feast on your luscious tits. If this time I can’t slide inside you and fuck you that way until we both come I can think of other things. Good things, arousing things, sexy…”

  My bra followed my top, and then his hands circled each boob before he sort of pushed them together and somehow got both nipples in his mouth and suckled on them.

  The approving noises he made were enough to make me nigh on come. How the hell I held back I have no bloody idea. The pulse between my legs throbbed so hard, my skin prickled and darts of excitement and arousal were all over me. Even my goosebumps tingled. All from one small boob suck. What the hell would I be like if he ever sucked my clit?

  I never, ever believed people when they said they sort of gushed. Oh, I know as a doctor it happens, but never to me. It’s like one of those urban myths, spoken about, never proven. I mean, you don’t exactly ask someone to let you watch so you know what you’re talking about and can rule out STD for a patient who tells you all about her experience. Now though, I could honestly say I understood, and it’s normal. I was wetter than I’d ever been in my life and he’d only just begun. Heaven help what I rested on when I climaxed. Would I need to buy a plastic undersheet?

  I hoped not. I’d rather sacrifice my sheets and towels and just enjoy the sensation.

  “Such gorgeous mouthfuls. I want to taste them. Suck on your tits ‘til you come. Bite you, make you scream and scream, and—”

  “Ahh,” I screamed as he bit down on my flesh just under my nipple and then sucked hard. I’ve never been a fan of love bites, but oh God, that felt so good. And I got wetter.

  “More.”

  Alistair lifted his head. “Who’s in charge here, pet?”

  Holy hell, had he really meant that? I was bloody contrary. I hated that sobriquet, it had always made me want to meow or bark. Now? Oh now, it made me want to beg for more of whatever he thought we needed. Lots more.

  “Sorry, Sir.” And yes, that did slip out.

  He grinned, and his eyes glinted. “That was a very welcome salutation. It’s a pity we can’t explore that avenue further at the moment, but hold the thought. Now, strip for me. If I do it, we won’t get very far. Let me get out of these kecks and into you.”

  Kecks, the slang for trousers, seemed a bit of a come down for hot as hell leathers, but I got his point. I’d rather come with him in me, and with him, than anyhow else. Or if not, with him doing other things to me.

  He took three steps back and ran his hand over his now short but sexy hair, and I could see it shake. So he was as aroused as I was.

  As I watched him slide his trousers down his legs, his prick sprang free, no underwear to confine it. I salivated as I stepped out of my skirt and more than damp thong, watched him kick his leathers away and stalk straight-legged toward me.

  Goodness knows why, I took a step backward, and he grinned. “You won’t escape me that easily. Get ready for the onslaught.” He took two steps forward and then stood still. Watching, considering … I had no idea what.

  I didn’t want to escape, but the playful look on his face made me take one more step away. To be brought up short by the side of the bed. I deliberately let myself fall back onto it, and sprawled with my toes on the floor.

  “Almost just how I want you,” Alistair said in a clichéd husky and passion-filled voice. Honestly, I now believe in all those expressions big time.

  “You can have me any way you want.”

  He chuckled. “I wish. For tonight though, as I can’t do everything I want to you, we’ll try this.” He knelt on the floor, then put my legs over his shoulders and his mouth on my clit.

  I saw stars, lost the ability to talk and explain where the condoms were if he needed them, and sank into the sensation of being eaten out by a master.

  What he could do with his tongue and teeth. He licked, laved, sucked, and nipped. I lapped it all up.

  My skin prickled, breath quickened, and my head thrashed from side to side. Oh God, I was so bloody close. I couldn’t hold back, but how could I come when I wanted him inside me first?

  With ease.

  He pinched my nipples hard, bit my clit, not too hard, and that was it.

  He got his scream, and I got my first ever gushing climax.

  I have no idea how long it took me to come ‘round. I might have even passed out. I couldn’t swear one way or the other.

  When I finally sighed and opened my eyes we were side by side on the bed with his head on the pillows and mine on his chest.

  He played with my hair, and I gave into temptation to tease the whorls of hair on his chest, winding them around my fingers and giving them a slight tug.

  He reciprocated by tugging on mine—head hair, not chest hair—so I had to look up at him.

  “That was one of the most erotic, arousing, and bloody fabulous things I’ve ever seen,” he said frankly. “I’m honored I made you feel like that. Thank you.”

  “I’m the one that’s honored,” I replied. “I’ve never ever been that way before. I do think though I need to return the favor. Can I go down on you?”

  I didn’t wait for an answer. Well unless you considered the “hell yeah” mutter I heard as I slid down his body until my cheek rested on his stomach as a negative. I chose not to. After all, “hell yeah” was most definitely not “hell no”.

  I took his cock in my hands and was rewarded with a twitch and several drops of pre-cum that appeared in the slit and slid down the head in a graceful arc.

  His skin was like silk with a hard core of iron. That’s another thing I’ve read and now appreciate. Help, I was getting all poetic, but yes, it was the perfect analogy. And it was all for me.

  I had to taste him. Experience every nuance as he fucked my mouth. I wanted it all. I crawled onto my knees and pushed his legs open so I could get up close.

  First thing was to get him to a level I wanted, so I put my hands under his ass until he lifted it a little and I angled him so his prick was in the right position for what I intended. Then I shoved some bunched up covers under him to keep him there. Then, oh my, I took the end of his cock into my mouth and li
cked some of his salty pre-cum.

  Talk about nectar.

  He groaned again, and his hands tightened on my hair. That slight frisson of pain only added to my arousal. Damned if I might not hump his leg at the same time as sucking him off. Instead I pinched his nipples as I changed my attention on his cock from a lick to a nibble and then put it into my mouth and sucked.

  I’ll make no apology to say it was like enjoying a hot ice pole. An oxymoron maybe but you’ll get my gist.

  I was in heaven. Sex-filled ecstasy. He writhed, I sucked, he tugged on my hair, and without taking my mouth away from that one area I was giving almost my total attention, I moved so his leg was under my cunt.

  I hoped he’d understand, but I had to come with him. Nothing else. I needed him to spill and for me to do the same.

  At the same time.

  Luckily, he seemed to realize what was hoped for because he stroked my ass, squeezed it, and pushed his thigh harder against me.

  I sucked harder.

  His nipples were tiny, sharp nubs between my fingertips, his cock so hard I wondered how he stood it.

  He stiffened, shuddered, and pulled ever stronger on my hair.

  I sucked as hard as I could, scared he was going to pull out. I wanted to milk him dry.

  He gave one of those deep, guttural man screams as hot, sticky, salty semen filled my mouth.

  I soaked his leg as I came even harder than before.

  This time I knew I passed out. The little death certainly hadn’t been little. If I got like this after oral, heaven help me when—and please God it was when—we had full on, fuck like rabbits, cock in cunt sex.

  Chapter Four

  Don’t you just hate the aftermath?

  I woke up as I rolled over and ended up on a sticky, wet bed sheet.

  Yuck. I rolled back the way I’d come.

  I opened my eyes, and to my horror noticed daylight flooded the room. Had I overslept? Why would I?

  Ah, yes.

  Sex, and the little death.

  Seemed I’d overdosed. But what a way to go. Except—I patted all around me.

  Had I dreamed it all? A very wet dream to get me off and sate my newfound horniness.

  Was it true when they said fair, fat, forty, and fucking happened? Even without de-fuzzing. I sure hoped so. Otherwise my itch was never going to be totally scratched. Okay, Bertie the bullet was a good helper, but silver steel with variable speeds and pulses was only a substitute for silky skin and the ability to reach two places at once. After all a cock filled me from tip to top. A bullet didn’t.

  A strange buzzing noise permeated my fuzzy brain. It sounded like … an alarm. Not mine though. Mine did a gentle let me swim to the surface warble, not this sleep to hitting the ceiling in three seconds flat sound. And where on earth was it?

  I sat up and swung my legs to the side of the bed.

  The clock I didn’t even know had an alarm flashed at me from the bedside cabinet. I scowled and wondered how the hell I could turn the thing off.

  In the end I pulled the plug out from the socket. It was only then I noticed the time. Six AM, the time I needed to get up to make sure I had two cups of coffee and still be at the surgery for early consultations. And something else. A white sheet of paper anchored to the surface of the cabinet by the offending clock.

  The writing was bold and black. Written with what I guessed was a felt-tipped pen and on the back of the shopping list I’d left on the hall table so I didn’t forget it. If I didn’t head into town and do a stock up I’d be out of such essentials as decent gin and loo roll.

  I snatched it up and read it once fast and then slower to take it in.

  “Hi, darling doc,

  You were so far gone that when I finally pried your mouth from my dick (very reluctantly I assure you) you were determined not to wake up. You told me to “goway” and sleep like a proper person on my side of the bed.

  As I’d been the perfect gentleman and moved you to the dry side very slimy it was, too, but for you, anything.

  Except sadly stay until you woke up. I did ask you what time you needed to get up, and you mumbled six, so I set your alarm for you. Hope it worked. I went around four, unwilling but knowing I had to. Think of me up to my neck in mud today, will you?

  And I’ve added a few essentials to your shopping list. So next time we don’t have to stop.

  Love (I know it’s so sudden, but I mean that. You, my darling doc, have knocked me for seven … that’s more than six, you understand)

  Will be up to my ears in mud and gore the next few days. Being a demon is never easy. Take care, and do your shopping as soon as you can. Will be in touch, and won’t be on the bike next time. It was supposed to curb my need to fuck you senseless for the evening. Didn’t really work, did it?”

  It was signed with a smiley heart, three kisses, and a slashing “A”, followed by a postscript or three.

  “PS Watching you come apart all for me was the most erotic thing ever. I’m gonna remember it when I need to look interested in my co-star. Who is a friend and never has been or will be a friend with benefits.

  “PPS I have two co-stars. One, Erica, is married to my best mate. (The other one is called Damon. I don’t fancy him either, nor he me. He is married to my other best mate.)

  “PPPS Didn’t think it right and proper to sign this ‘Sir’. Not yet, but I live in hope.”

  So did I.

  ****

  How the hell I got myself together, carried out the surgery successfully—well I think I did, no one had complained yet—and drove to the supermarket twenty miles away I have no idea. My eyes were gritty, and I had, according to Sandie, who pointed an accusing finger at me, got a dreamy but gleeful cat who got the cream expression on my face.

  “You’ve had sex,” she said in an accusing voice. “Hot sex and you never mentioned it. We always tell each other.”

  How could I say, not anymore? I know she had been sort of all loved up and happy, but I got snippets. Like when Jason, her partner, introduced a bit of kink one night and she discovered she liked nipple clamps. I wondered if they still played or if she’d told him not in a million years after his escapades. Then there was the time when I’d thrown up over an ex when unbeknown to me he’d fed me gluten, because he was of the opinion it was all in the mind. That night he soon learned it wasn’t. His silk sheets would never be the same. What an asshole. But this maybe relationship mattered too much to giggle over. It wasn’t just sex, I was darned sure of that. It was deeper, more important than a simple screw.

  “Come on, Sandy, fess up. Who was it, and on a scale of one to ten, how was it?”

  I hesitated. It was all so new I wasn’t ready to share, and well, because of who and what Alistair was, could I really do it to him? Not that Sandie—that’s the practice manager with an ie—would share anything, but I wanted to protect him.

  Screwy or what?

  “I can’t share who with yet. I will when I can. It’s all a bit new and scary. I don’t want to jinx it.” I guessed she’d understand that. As she looked crestfallen, but nodded, I felt a right shit, but needs must. “Hot though.”

  “Ah good, I was getting worried.”

  So had I been. That I didn’t have time to get to the supermarket and back before I needed to check with the locum all was well. It had been a fantastic stroke of luck that Andy McCluskie was available for this week, and the next three when I had decided I was on holiday and doing nothing. He was much in demand. A great GP who, as he said, got itchy feet, and this way when he wanted to travel he could just up and go when his current post ended.

  But first I had to go to town.

  As I pushed my trolley—with a wonky wheel, natch—along the aisle and consulted my list, Alistair’s additions shouted at me. “Condoms lots and I intend to use them all, I have no chance of getting to buy any”. “Squirty cream”. (With a winking emoji that made me splutter as I remembered my last thoughts regarding the stuff) and weirdly, “a toothbrus
h”, and “a sponge”. I had plenty of spare toothbrushes, but not sponges. Ah well, no doubt I’d find out why they were so important when he chose to tell me. Mine not to question why.

  And that little thought made me go hot, cold, hot and damp. It was a long while since I’d thought of deferring to someone, and I relished the idea it might happen again. This time, properly.

  I added them to my groceries. Three boxes of nine for the condoms—surely that would be enough? Two tubes of the cream and a manly green and grey toothbrush. The sponge had me stumped for a while until I spotted some stashed away in a corner. Real or synthetic? Big or small? In the end I chose a large real one. No point in it otherwise. It had a bit of a gritty feel to it, but a few uses would sort that out. Along with the stuff from my list, the damned trolley with a mind of its own was full and not very cooperative, but I managed to get it to the checkout, load my stuff onto the conveyor, then load it into the bloody thing again. Pay and leave with the trolley doing a sideways crab act and get back to my car.

  By the time I drove past the thirty mile an hour sign at the beginning of the village my tummy was rumbling. I never seemed to have enough hours in the day to find time for lunch. Luckily, I always kept a stash of gluten-free bars all over the place. So as long as somehow I got a cuppa I could nibble and natter to Andy before his first surgery of the week.

  Sorted. Of course, I would have preferred to get my shopping home and unpacked, but knowing the pace I seemed to go at, I’d used several insulated bags to keep stuff cool, so it’d be okay for an hour or two.

  Andy, bless him, took one look at me and waved his stethoscope in my direction, even as he threw me one of those aforementioned bars. I caught it, unwrapped it, and took a healthy mouthful without a pause.