“I need to come, Laura, please, let me come…”
Laura almost came then and there, just for listening to the need in Wilson’s voice. “You asked for this, Wilson, you wanted it, so stop complaining and remove the cock ring.” Wilson was eager to do it this time, removing the soft leather and signing happily at the feeling. His cock felt free and overly stimulated, the butt plug was filling him completely, leaving no free space and the image of Laura stroking herself was the final stimulation he needed.
Wilson was practically writhing on the bed now, screwing himself on the butt plug and pumping his cock with frantic, desperate strokes. He pulled his knees up to his chest, grabbing at his balls with his free hand and thinking that it was way too much. Wilson threw his head back, his jaw clenched tight and felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. He was whimpering, almost keening, so hard and hot, when he jerked his cock with quick strokes, his thumb brushing across the cum covered head, making him shiver.
“That is right, baby, I want to hear you. Scream for me, Wilson, let it all out, baby…” Laura fervently encouraged him to let go of all his restraints and enjoy fully the moment. Wilson loved her for this. With all that he was feeling right now, it felt good to hear Laura there, giving him the carte blanche to be himself.
“I want to hear you coming for me, baby…” Laura said breathlessly and that was all it took to send Wilson over the edge. His prostate was overly stimulated and his cock was so hard he could probably cut through the wall with it. Wilson used his lubed fingers to squeeze tight under the crown of his dick, as the first wave of his orgasm hit him. It was hard, fast and hot. He came with his head crashing back against the pillow, pleasure ripping through him, his mouth open in a deep moan. He could feel himself contracting around the butt plug, clenching so tight it almost hurt him.
His intense orgasm brought white ropes of come all over his chest, almost getting him in the face. His body was screaming with the pleasure, coming from his intense release, thrashing against the mattress, making it even more intense.
Laura had stopped speaking long ago, careful to listen to every moan, world or movement Wilson was uttering or making. She wasn’t even touching herself, her whole attention focused on the man on the phone. Wilson was completely gone, lost in the sensation, his whole world narrowed down to his cock and the hard breathing on the phone.
Wilson came down slowly, barely aware of anything except the pleasure wracking his body. He was drenched in sweat and come, the butt plug still embedded inside his ass and his hand still holding his spent cock. Now, he could hear Laura touching herself, probably already on the edge herself, but stalling until now, so that she could listen to Wilson’s orgasm. He heard her coming with a low cry of ecstasy and a few muttered words.
Laura made sure to clean herself with a bunch of napkins she had brought with her. She couldn’t risk staining her pants, considering the fact that the man was still waiting for her inside. She heard people walking by, speaking loudly and disturbing her peace. Laura made sure she was presentable before anyone could come near her and threw the napkins in the trash can behind her.
“Wilson are you okay?” She asked the man on the other side of the phone and waited for his answer. Wilson was still lying on the bed, in the same position the orgasm took him by surprise. Even the butt plug was still inside of him, his whole body spent and ready to fall asleep.
“Yes,” he murmured, reaching for his discharged underwear to clean some of the come from his belly. “I am still lying on the bed, naked with the plug inside of me.”
“You are killing me,” Laura moaned, imagining vividly the picture, Wilson was painting for her.
“Do you want me to take a photo for you?” He asked in his best innocent voice. He liked to tease Laura, especially in situations like this one, when Wilson was the one left alone and jealous.
“Yes, but I would like much more if you stay like this, with the butt plug and all until I get there. I would enjoy it very much to remove it from your tight hot ass and let you fuck me with your hard cock. Then you will fuck me hard and long, giving me all I ever wanted, stabbing me with your cock until I forget my own name. Are you imagining it Wilson – me under you, lying with my legs spread in the air and my body wide open for you? Tell me that you are going to wait for me?”
Wilson listened to Laura’s deep voice and felt every word as a caress over his body. The picture she was painting was just what he wanted and Wilson knew that Laura was only too well aware of the fact. He looked around and wondered how long it will take Laura to come to him.
“I give you half an hour, if you are not here by then, I would start without you,” with those last words he closed the phone, leaving the woman to decide for herself.
Chapter 2
Two weeks earlier…
The candles were all doused out and Laura was lying on her stomach on their makeshift bed, reading a book by the light of the fire. There was a gap between the tight t-shirt and the tight sweatpants, showing a strip of smooth skin and Ross simply couldn’t take his eyes away from it.
"You'll ruin your eyes," Ross said, kicking off his boots and taking off his jeans to hang them over a chair.
"Hmm," Laura said, clearly back to not listening again.
"Listen Laura, your mother let you under my care for the weekend, so stop acting like this," he said. "Can't you let that go?"
After a moment, Laura looked up. "What? I just thought of something I wanted to check."
Ross put his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling for several seconds before turning his head towards Laura again. "You're acting kind of obsessed. It's over, we can move on."
Laura gave a crack of incredulous laughter and propped herself higher to stare at Ross. She even brushed the hair out of her eyes so she could do it better. "I'm acting obsessed? You're the one who's tied up in knots about it."
"Oh, sure," Ross said. "You're not hung up on this at all."
"I'm not upset," Laura said, starting to sound kind of upset, and Ross raised an eyebrow at her. "You're the one who keeps acting like it was a big deal."
"Yeah, well." Ross tried to stare at something other than Laura's mouth. "We were totally helpless. Sorry to be less than thrilled about that."
"Okay." Laura used her calm, reasonable, convincing voice, and Ross had to make an effort not to thump her. "I get it. I even agree, which is why I've been doing this research so it doesn't happen to us again. I'm just saying we're okay, everything worked out, and it wasn't the end of the world."
Ross took a deep breath. "Sure," he said. "Fine. Not the end of the world. Can we go to sleep now?"
"Nobody's stopping you," Laura said, turning another page in a pointed manner.
"Are you going to keep that up all night?"
"Ross!" Laura didn't even look up. "You're the one who needs to let this go. It's not a big deal, okay?"
"Yeah? Well, when you talk like you kiss your stepdaughter under the influence of drugs, which origin you don’t know anything about every week and it's no big deal, it kind of makes me wonder about what goes on inside your head." Ross stared at Laura's profile, eyes returning again and again to Laura's mouth. He had some thoughts about what was going on inside his own head, too.
Laura sighed and closed her book, turning towards Ross. "I can't believe how much you're freaking out over this," she said. "If you don't want to talk about it, then stop talking about it."
"No, I'm fine," Ross said. "Obviously you're right and it was nothing." He rolled over and pressed his mouth swiftly against Laura's. The kiss landed kind of crooked, mostly on Laura's upper lip. "See? Nothing. Like you said, not the end of the world." Ross lay back and felt his heart beat recklessly.
"But that's not what it was like," Laura said, and now she was using a voice that Ross had never, ever heard before. He would have remembered. Laura rolled up on one side and cupped her hand around the side of Ross's face, giving him plenty of time to get away before she leaned in and pressed
her mouth against Ross's, not fast and hard but slow and thorough. And yeah, okay, Ross remembered this, he remembered how Laura kissed, remembered Laura's warm, hungry mouth on his.
At the same time, this was completely different. When he thought back on those two hours they'd spent in the front seat of the car, they were a bit dreamlike and unclear. Everything was vivid now, and he was aware of himself, of them, or their surroundings: the crackle of the fire, the way the sheet was bunched up under his knee. The way Laura was his stepdaughter, even if Laura herself didn't seem to remember it, the way she was sucking on Ross's lower lip, licking just under his jaw and biting his earlobe.
"Hey," Ross said, thumping Laura's shoulder with the flat of his hand.
"Mm," Laura said, giving most of his attention to the side of Ross's neck, biting gently.
"You've made your point. Feel free to stop." Ross tried not to suck his breath in too loud at the way Laura's tongue felt on his skin.
"No," Laura said from the vicinity of Ross's collarbone. She looked up at Ross through tangled, too-long hair. "Not unless you say it like you mean it, Ross. I've been," she licked along the collar of Ross's t-shirt, "thinking about this since that day."
"Because of the drugs," Ross said, trying for his own brand of annoyingly reasonable. He had a feeling it would have worked better if he hadn't kissed Laura back, before. "Drink some water and you'll feel better."
"Not because of the drugs," Laura said, and paused to frown and look amused at the same time. Ross had to grin, too, because it did kind of sound like they were arguing about soft drinks. "Didn't you hear what they said? That's what the drugs do is to shake people up and make them realize what they really wanted out of life."
"So unless there's something you're not telling me." Laura put a hand on Ross's face and gave him that earnest, wide-eyed look that only worked on other people. "I've been thinking a lot about this, Ross. And I think you have been, too."
Apparently it wasn't just other people, because Ross found himself nodding. "Yeah," he said, telling the plain truth as if he'd been born to it. "Yeah. I have."
He didn't know how that look had suddenly started working on him, too, but he did know that it wasn't good for Laura to have things all her own way too much, so he shoved Laura down and braced himself over her, looking down at Laura's face, at her wide mouth and tousled hair, and rubbed his thumb across Laura's nipple through the tight t-shirt and watched the color rise in Laura's cheeks.
Laura put both hands on Ross's shoulders and pulled him down, and they kissed again: slow, heated, clinging kisses, almost too good to be true, kisses that could warm a man all the way to his toes. Ross licked the curve of Laura's ear, and Laura sucked on Ross's fingers, but mostly they kissed and kissed. They shifted around a bit, and Ross ended up outside the blankets again, but he wasn't cold. Not at all.
"You know," Laura said, leaning back on her elbows. Firelight danced over her face and arms, and her hair was a mess, and her mouth was red. "You know, we could stop now, we don't have to do anything more. Or…"
Ross trailed a finger slowly down the inside of Laura's arm, elbow to wrist, feeling the soft skin and the hectic beat of Laura's pulse. "Or?"
Laura's voice was both matter of fact and as intimate as a caress. "Or I could blow you."
"Oh god yes," Ross said. He didn't care if it made him a pervert or a degenerate freak or anything else that anyone cared to name. They'd come this far, he might as well admit that the idea made his blood fizz.
Laura grinned brightly at him as if Ross had given her a present. She pushed her stepfather’s t-shirt up and blew a raspberry on Ross's stomach, and then, before Ross could swat her, started to kiss and lick her way down. Ross already had his hand lifted, and he couldn't resist; he began to stroke Laura's hair, curling his fingers into it and tugging softly. He could feel Laura's smile against his skin right before Laura started licking along the elastic of Ross's briefs. What was I thinking? Ross thought in blissful frustration, Laura would be a goddamn tease.
"Lift up," Laura said, all but writing the words on Ross's skin with her mouth, and when Ross obeyed she hooked her thumb into Ross's briefs and worked them down slowly. But she wasn't done with the teasing yet; there was more licking, Laura's tongue in the crease between Ross's thigh and torso, Laura's tongue on his balls, gentle and curious, and finally Laura's tongue licking up the sides of Ross's cock, long slow unhurried ice-cream licks.
"I'm going to kill you," Ross said, and Laura laughed and swirled her tongue around the head. Ross made a strangled noise, and Laura hummed to herself and did it again. Then she shoved at Ross' hips, curled herself around to a better angle, and settled in for some serious cock sucking. "Finally," Ross said, and then, "Laura," which was his last coherent word for a while.
Laura's blowjobs, as it turned out, were pretty much like her kisses, slow and deep and hungry, extremely thorough, and Ross felt he had never really appreciated the focus and attention that Laura could give to whatever she was genuinely interested in doing well. He clenched his hand tighter in Laura's hair and rocked his hips, feeling the head of his cock slide and rub against the slick perfection of Laura's palate while Laura's tongue worked against the nerve cluster on the underside.
And that was how it all started…
STORY FORTY
Chapter 1
Maria knew that she was running late, but couldn’t make her limbs propel her any faster up the stairs. Her sneakers squeaked as she hurried as best as she could, but after running all the way from the bus stop, she knew that she would never make it in time.
‘Rounds must have started by now,’ she thought, brow furrowing in worry and frustration. It wasn’t her fault this time. Her hands wound her black hair into a bun high on her head. It would be messy, but it’d be out of her face. She would have to change into her scrubs in a rush, and she didn’t feel like dealing with her hair as well. So what if she looked like she hadn’t slept in days or half of her scrubs were dirty and her spare set in her locker didn’t match?
The locker room was deserted when she got there, and she tore her clothes off the instant the door shut behind her. Without anyone else present, she didn’t bother trying to present any air of dignity, stripping off her matching red lace underwear to don the more practical sports bra and boy shorts that had become typical for her to wear beneath her scrubs. She inspected her reflection in the cracked mirror on the inside of her locker and decided that her hair didn’t look too bad. It wasn’t glamorous or anything, but it would definitely last until he end of rounds at least, at which point she could duck into the bathroom to fix it.
Maria slipped into her scrubs, straightening them out as she left the locker room. She fixed her badge to her top as she speed walked over to the ICU where rounds had, as she feared, already begun. The attending physician was leading around a group of interns, and Maria tried her best to slip into the herd without drawing attention to herself. She failed.
“Rodriguez, you’re late,” the attending said without even bothering to look up from his clipboard.
“Sorry, I had some things to take care of,” Maria explained, but he wasn’t listening. He made a mark on his clipboard and continued to lecture the group on proper intubation technique.
Maria felt her dark eyes grow darker as she joined in at the back of the group, keeping her chin tucked close to her chest. It wasn’t her fault that the bus had been running late. She got there as fast as she could. As usual, it wouldn’t even be worth trying to explain herself. A few of her fellow interns tried to pass on sympathetic glances, but more of them were smirking at the fact that she had attracted the brunt of their attending’s irritation for the day.
She fell in with some friends of hers from the early days. Maria had known Ricky, George, and Steven since med school. The three of them had always been as disgustingly attentive as Maria, which made them great study partners. Ricky had always been the best with numbers and statistics, and was always leaving early their study
sessions to go out on dates with ridiculously attractive women. He was definitely in the same league, though, with his strong jawline and chestnut hair that always had the right amount of lift. Maria remembered the early days, when she had envied those other women and fantasized shamelessly about her friend. She’d grown up plenty since then, and so had her friendship with Ricky.
Steven was a different story. He had a geeky charm to him and knew quite possibly how every single pharmaceutical drug interacted with any other drug. His expertise didn’t go unrecognized by some of the senior staff, and many of them would consult him rather than a textbook in some cases. His pale skin dusted with freckles had the cutest pink blush in those instances, and his glasses only heightened the effect. Over the years, Maria had become more infatuated with Steven, and more open in her affections.
George had a more dignified air about him than the other two. He had attended university on a scholarship and maintained a fellowship throughout med school. The most mature of the group by far, George always had his wits about him and never seemed to let his hair down, so to speak; he kept his head shaved and waxed, and the effect gave his scalp the same shade and sheen as the new mahogany dining table that he had just bought for the apartment that he shared with Steven and Ricky.
Steven gave Maria an awkward pat on the shoulder, and Steven muttered a quick, “Tough luck, M.” George kept his gaze trained on the attending, and was probably storing every word of the lecture somewhere in his shiny head, though it was a lesson they’d gotten at least a dozen times at this point. It wasn’t until rounds had ended that George finally spoke.
“Don’t waste your time with apologies, okay?” he said, looking her straight in the eye as he usually did. “Especially not with Doc Feldman. He’s not the sort to give a shit about excuses.”
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