“Sure thing,” I said with a shrug, hoping that I wasn't nearly as wet still as I had been. “Go for it.” Doctor Jones quirked an eyebrow up at me, no doubt surprised at my flippant response before he pulled off the gloves he had on before, reapplied more hand sanitizer, and pulled on some fresh gloves.
“I apologize,” he said gently as he began his gentle prodding of my womanly folds. “I think my hands got colder while I was away.”
“The whole room is cold,” I said with a shaky laugh as all of the arousal that I thought I had gotten back under control flared up, as the flames licked my insides once more. “I've gotten used to it,” that was a bold faced lie, and I knew it; the heat from my core was enough to chase away the chill, so part of me was grateful that he began to touch me. He stroked my insides, and I already felt an orgasm begin to build up inside of me again. I squirmed, needing release but not wanting to come all over my doctor's hands. The fact that I found myself in the same dilemma as I had been in moments ago caused no small amount of frustration to build inside me.
“Well now,” he said with a frown. “This is concerning,” I tried my best to sit up from my position, worry gnawing at my gut
“What is it?” I asked, fearful of the answer.
Suddenly, he thrusted two of the fingers that had been inspecting me as deeply inside of me as he could. I cried out, my hips arching against his touch. His fingers began to work me in a completely different way, in the way that I had been absolutely craving since this exam had started.
“You're incredibly aroused,” he said softly. “And I hadn't done anything about it yet. Positively criminal on my part,” his thumb was brought into the equation, circling my clit and dragging out another moan from me. “I should do something to rectify that immediately.”
“Oh,” my eyes rolled back into my skull. “Oh, yes, yes, please, Doctor,” I panted, and he seemed to relish what reactions he could get out of me. He removed his thumb, and I whimpered, trying to move my hips to follow wherever his thumb had gone. Then, he pulled his fingers out of me entirely, and I felt absolutely hollow without them. All I wanted in that moment was for him to put those fingers right back where they were.
“You're the very vision of beauty, Jenna,” he draped himself over me, and I rose up to meet him in a kiss. His arm wrapped around me for a moment, the other bracing him behind us before he guided me back down. His mouth went to work assaulting my breasts, nipping and sucking at the flesh he found there like he was marking me as his. My knees wobbled at the sensation, and I found myself incredibly grateful that I was lying down for this, or else I might have been a puddle on the floor by now. “But I need this,” he tugged at one of the loose straps of the exam dress with his teeth. “Off of you. Now,” he hooked his fingers into the flimsy cloth and practically tore it off of me, which earned him a gasp of surprise from me. When had he undone the laces behind me? It must have been when I sat up. I arched my back again, my body shocked at the cold of the room that contrasted so intensely with how heated my insides were. The warring temperatures toyed with my arousal almost as much as the good doctor had been, and I didn't know how much more I could take before my insides burst.
I fumbled blindly to try and reach his pants, but from my place in the stirrups, it was hard to reach much of anything. Must have been how he planned it; I wasn't going to be touching anything that he didn't want me to, and something in me appreciated that kind of need for control over the situation. But he sensed what I needed from him, evidently, and worked his pants open after he tugged his belt open. His thick cock sprang out, making its grand entrance, and I licked my lips at the sight of it. Long and thick and positively pulsing with arousal, it was so engorged that the head of it was nearly purple from the amount of blood that had rushed to it. His hips jerked, and I felt his swollen manhood press deliciously against the cleft of my thigh, long, thick and eager. I felt the warmth in my gut begin to boil at the thought of how it would feel buried in my core.
“Has anyone ever had you like this?” He asked huskily as he stared down at my exposed body. “Have they ever had you completely at their mercy, with you begging to be fucked?” He nipped at my hip bone, and I jumped a little with a yelp of surprise. “Is that what you want? My cock seated so deep inside of you that it's all you can feel?” I nodded until I realized that wasn't going to be enough for him – he needed to hear me say it out loud.
“Y-yes,” I shivered pleasantly at his calloused fingertips exploring the expanse of my exposed backside, cupping and kneading the supple flesh they found there. “Oh, yes, please!” I moaned as he brought his mouth lower, low enough that I knew what he wanted to do to me. The puff of breath against my folds instinctively made my insides clench tightly, but it seemed like Doctor Jones had the cure for that too. The good doctor coaxed me into relaxing my insides, his tongue artfully parting the lips of my pussy and sensually stroking against my clit until all I could see were stars. He still hadn't let me come yet, and likely wouldn't until I had all but begged; that kind doctor that I had been introduced to was gone, replaced by a man who needed release, and needed me to work for mine.
“Doctor,” I moaned when he flicked his tongue against my clit particularly hard, a hand coming up to slip back inside my thoroughly lubricated folds. His thumb brushed over my pebbled clitoris, and I gasped at the sensation of my insides pulling themselves taut from his movements.
I had to bite my lip to keep from keening too loudly when the hand that had traveled south finally found its rhythm inside me. Fingers that had clearly done this before began to steadily work their way inside me, letting my body take them in at their own pace until his thumb could comfortably brush against my womanly pearl without having to hold it at an awkward angle. I mewled into the paper laid out on the exam bed when he began to work my insides more insistently, the heat coiling taught in my belly, and I knew it wouldn't be long before I climaxed. I could feel my cum leaking out of me, slicking his fingers and making it easier to bring my pleasure to pique. He lapped it up greedily with his tongue like a man dying of thirst that had found an oasis to drink from. It wasn't much longer before the coil finally snapped, and he circled his thumb around the bud of my flower in time with the crests of each wave of my orgasm, letting me ride it out gently.
Pulling his fingers out of me first, he pulled his mouth from my womanly folds and pulled himself up, nuzzling into my neck, waiting for me to say that I was ready. He occupied himself with biting my neck where he had before, and I wanted to wail from the stimulation. With a nod from me against his head after a few moments, he glanced down to his throbbing erection, positioning it like a sailor staring down periscope at an incoming vessel, and with one fluid movement, thrusted himself into me as deeply as he could. His teeth sunk into my shoulder again to stifle a groan, and I gasped at the nearly forgotten sensation of feeling so incredibly full. I wiggled as much as I could while lying where I was to accommodate the rest of his length, allowing him to bury himself to the hilt.
“Wait,” he said shakily when I tried to move against him. “Just...need a moment,” he rested his forehead against mine as he panted, trying to catch his breath. I nodded, and let him regain his composure. Though the few moments of stillness felt like an eternity, I all but wailed when he began to move against me, sliding out almost entirely before driving himself back into me with a snap of his hips. He panted my name once he had set a steady pace where it could be drawn out as long as possible, and I felt the heat that hadn't quite left begin to tighten again.
“Don't stop, oh don't stop,” I gasped against his mouth when he began to pick up his pace, angling his hips in just the right way to brush against that hyper sensitive bundle of nerves again. He grunted with the effort to hold out longer, needing me to come undone again before he could find his own orgasm.
“Close, Jenna I'm close, please,” he snaked a hand between us, thumb pressing against my clit again, and I clenched around his sizable length, shutting my eyes against the stars
that clouded my vision when I found my second orgasm. He followed me soon after, crying out hoarsely against my collarbone. He thrusted into me once, twice, three times more before his hips stilled, and he found his breath again. He eased out of me and straightened, tucking himself away and appearing as though nothing had just happened.
“I have to say, Miss Jenna,” he said with a grin. “I think it's safe to say that your exam went swimmingly; everything appears normal, and we've taken care of your pap smear,” he went back to my file and scrawled something in it. “I'd like to make a follow up appointment, though, just to be sure.” I found myself grinning.
“Same time next week?” I asked, already looking forward to my next exam. No wonder he came.
STORY FIFTEEN
Chapter 1
Samantha sucked on her half-burnt cigarette decisively. She had only one goal; to achieve a calm enough state for her to, at the very least, look relaxed. But of course she knew that forcing herself to ease her nerves would only set her thoughts in a bigger flux and make her palms sweat even more intensely.
“Oh, this is ridiculous!” she mumbled to herself and huffed a laugh. She brought her hand to her lips so that she could take another puff from the cigarette, only to discover that it had long turned into ash, as she’d been too busy trying to find ways to unwind. It was but a moment later that the doorbell sounded, and although she was startled by the expected, but sudden noise, she produced her most steady and confident steps as she walked all the way to meet her guest. She had a little bit of time to check if her hair was in place before swinging the front door wide open, and when she did, at least ten different flashbacks rushed before her eyes.
That time Jordan had come over for a study date. That other time when she was home alone and invited him over for a movie (and had wrapped it up with what he, even a year later, had referred to as the best blowjob in his life), and then when he’d come to pick her up and take her to the cinema a week later, and they’d ended up driving to a deserted parking lot, listening to music and drinking red wine in the backseat. She remembered that he was the first guy she had not been embarrassed to go to a party with, not because her other dates had been less attractive, but because Jordan had always been her dream guy, perfect in any way she could imagine, starting with the moment when her eyes had landed on him that fine September afternoon, during his first football match in her college.
He still looked just as incredible as he had back then. If anything, he appeared even more fit and as cut out to be a famous athlete as he’d ever been. His brown eyes shone with a gleam that didn’t escape Samantha, even though she was all but dazzled by that familiar smile.
She looked up at him. “Hey,” she managed to utter at last, happily. “… Welcome,” she remembered to add.
“I’m so glad we got the address right. It’s so good to see you, Sam,” Jordan said, smiling. He leaned forward to give Sam a warm hug, one she could not completely focus on, as behind him was revealed the tall, blond vision she had never seen before.
When Jordan pulled away, his eyes registered the woman’s gaze, and he turned to his friend. “Sam, this is Dave, I asked him to give me a ride. I need to rest my foot after the last match. Doctor’s strict orders,” he chuckled as he wiggled his right leg in front of her, as if to show what the problem was. All Sam could take in, though, was the way his muscles rippled with each tiny movement.
Samantha snapped her eyes away and smiled, extending her arm and shaking hands with the unexpected addition to the group, inwardly laughing that Jordan still preferred to walk all the way anywhere instead of getting a car. She felt a pang of disappointment. She’d hoped it would be a little bit like the old times, or at least that they would have a moment to catch up, even though they were only meeting because Jordan had missed her birthday (which had been a month previously!) and insisted they meet so he could give her a present, although they had not seen each other for almost a year.
“Well, then, Jordan, Dave,” she took a moment to look at each of them as she pronounced the names, “Come in! I’ve made some cake!”
Sam led the way, and the men followed. “You really shouldn’t have, Sam,” Jordan said, “It’s my fault I couldn’t make it.”
“Nonsense”, the woman waved her hand in dismissal and half turned to send her friend a playful wink. “You are a busy, famous man now.”
Jordan shook his head, laughing lightly. His team had actually just won their biggest match yet, but he was certainly not famous enough to be called—well, famous. He said nothing, however, and took a seat where Sam had gestured that he should, his friend following silently.
Sam wanted very much for her guests to feel properly welcomed. She sliced the cake in as identical pieces as she could, and, after having had to convince her healthy, athletic friend that one glass would do him no harm, poured them some wine. It was then that Dave finally spoke, “I did convince him to drink a pint of beer last week with me, you know.”
Sam pretended to be shocked. “No way!” she exclaimed for effect, letting her jaw drop.
“Oh yeah. And he finished it to the last gulp.”
“I’m impressed,” the woman granted, smiling. She remembered that when Jordan and she had been lovers, even then it had had to be a special occasion for him to drink at all. For a moment, she remembered that she was very special to him, which was the sole reason he allowed her to coax him into doing all the things she could make him do, and with a tiny gaze towards Dave, she wondered what it was that made him special as well.
“Cake and wine,” Jordan snapped her back to reality as he looked at both the plate and glass before him guiltily. “I’ll have to seriously hit the gym as soon as possible.”
“Except your doctor said—“ began Dave, somewhat concerned, somewhat teasing, but Jordan interrupted him.
“Yeah, yeah. He told me I could walk fifteen minutes a day maximum if I wanted to recover and be well enough by the next match. Can you believe it? I spend that much time walking during the day just getting to the bathroom!”
Everyone laughed in unison. “I guess you’ll just have to find another way to burn all of this food and wine, that doesn’t put that much stress on your leg,” concluded Sam a little suggestively.
“I better,” agreed the athlete. He paused for a moment. “I can think of a thing or two already.”
The room fell silent as each of them made their own interpretation of the statement. Jordan appeared reluctant to cause any tension, but still tried to think of something to say, to fill the void that had so suddenly taken over the cheerful atmosphere. Sam, however, was quicker.
“So, what do you do, Dave? Are you also into sports?” she couldn’t help but remark, as the man didn’t appear any short of gym sessions.
Dave smiled. “Oh, I wish. I’m just your regular PT.”
“Ah,” Sam let out, and started to put two and two together. “Is that how you two know each other? Do you work together?”
Both men nodded simultaneously. “Yeah, Dave’s my personal trainer,” the football player confirmed lightly.
“Well, I… well, that sounds good, I suppose. I—I really have no idea how gyms work. I haven’t exercised since that time you forced me to take a morning jog with you,” she addressed Jordan playfully. It wasn’t true, though, what she said. She did tried to keep up with her Pilates book instructions at least twice a week, because as she neared thirty, it became more difficult to ignore the after-birthday-cake love-handles that once upon a time, it seemed, had used to disappear over-night, all on their own. She frowned a bit at the thought, but no one seemed to notice.
Jordan was chuckling lightly. “You don’t look like you need a gym anyway,” he remarked with a wink, and Sam hoped that the make-up she had previously spent an hour applying carefully would conceal the blush that she felt all over her face. She knew she had a tendency to turn into a bright shade of crimson when even the least bit shy.
“I… thank you, I guess,” she gave her best a
ttempt at sounding nonchalant, and inwardly prayed that Jordan did not recall how easily his flattery could affect her.
“And this is a nice place,” Jordan added brightly, and Dave, next to him, nodded his agreement.
Sam smiled affectionately in response.
The three cheerful people continued to sip on their wine until every last drop was drunk, Sam and Jordan catching up but also including Dave into the conversation. Sam grew more and more fond of Dave with each exchange, beginning to see what made Jordan like him enough to bring him along, even though Jordan should have been well aware of what his visit could otherwise have led to.
While the two men were telling her a story of a night out some time ago, she took a moment to herself and just looked at her dream man, taking all of him in as properly as she could, wondering whatever it was that had happened to have made them fall so completely out of touch.
Chapter 2
“Maybe we should play a game,” Dave suggested out of nowhere.
“Or dance,” Sam added to the table.
“Oh no, I can’t dance, no way—“ Dave managed to get out in between chuckles.
Jordan cut him off. “Well, the democratic party we are, I say we put on some music, and whoever feels like dancing can dance, while we are playing a game.”
Dave grinned in satisfaction. “Truth or dare?” he didn’t wait to half-announce, half-ask.
“Yeah, I’m in,” Jordan allowed quickly, and once he was in, Samantha knew exactly what she had to do. She jumped to her feet and with quick steps she reached the kitchen, took the empty wine bottle in hand, put the radio nearby on—blasting some cheesy 80s disco songs—, and rushed back to her friends.
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