Dr Big

by Sienna Swan

  It feels good to be safe in my familiar routine. An organized life leads to an organized mind, and mine has to be organized for my job.

  It’s why I’m so successful. Attention to detail. Focus and calm determination.

  I may not be much of a thrill seeker, but show me an accountant that is. Certainly not this one.

  I choose a demure little navy dress suit for the day. Understated but professional, just how I like to dress.

  My cat, Harry, is purring around my legs as I step into the kitchen and I spoon him out his breakfast, being sure to wash the dirty utensil in the sink before I leave the house. I can’t bear having a mess around me. If I wasn’t so lonely living alone sometimes, I wouldn’t have gotten myself a cat at all, but a girl needs companionship through dark winter nights, even if it is only the furry four-legged kind.

  I take my usual route to work, trying to chase the thoughts of Dr. Big from my mind. I really wish I could wash him away from me and regain some mental clarity, but no matter which direction I force my brain into, he’s always right there. His cocky smile. His cute dimples. The soft blond of his hair.

  His lab coat.

  The way his latex gloves felt against me.

  His huge, towering, glistening dick. The one that will never fit inside me in a billion years.

  I wish I could be normal for just one night. How I’d love to ride that smug look right off his face. I can’t even imagine his expression at the sight of me morphing from stuffy little Melissa, to a raging sex-goddess.

  The thought makes me smile as I open up my profit and loss spreadsheets at my desk, but this won’t do. I can’t keep dwelling on him or his unorthodox treatment plans. For a start, they aren’t going to work, even if I wanted them to. He could try forever and a day to fit that thing inside me, and my lady parts would still scream out a resounding no entry. I know my body well enough to know that.

  Luckily I know my job well enough too to sink into it regardless of my unfortunate preoccupation with my hot doc. I bury myself in the numbers, making sense of the cold hard figures.

  I love the way financial puzzles fit so perfectly together. I love how predictable they are. How safe.

  Nothing thrills me as much as the way a string of numbers clicks into place. Where everything balances so neatly. Every single little digit accounted for.

  The strange thing was that I never envisioned myself as an accountant, not even once while I was growing up. Numbers bored me to tears as a kid. I was far more into the idea of the arts, creating something, but that didn’t last. On reflection, now that I have the necessary maturity to reflect on it, accounting was a good choice for me. The arts are messy and unpredictable. Chaos where there should be order. Like skating on a sidewalk without a handrail, just asking for trouble.

  Crossing a rope bridge without a harness.

  I hate bridges at the best of times. Childhood disaster, don’t ask. Another one of those horrifyingly embarrassing moments of my life.

  Anyway, that’s what I mean. Figures are easy. Safe. Predictable. There is always a truth, always an answer to a problem. Every imbalance can be put right again, every challenge right there to be solved through logic.

  That’s got to be so much better than the arts would have ever been for me.

  A vocation in chaos wouldn’t have suited a woman like me at all.

  And neither will Dr. Big.

  We’ll both find that out sure enough, I’m positive of it.

  In the meantime, I’ll humor him.

  Doctor’s orders after all.

  Seven

  Kane

  Two hours before Melissa is supposed to meet me at my place, I get a call from Planned Parenthood. I was always a sucker for a good deed and it’s like they can sense it in the air. Constantly cut funding makes people savvy at finding solutions, I guess.

  Ever since I volunteered there a couple of years ago, they keep hitting me up for emergency consults or to pick up a shift when someone on the staff can’t make it in. I have yet to say no unless I’m in the middle of a surgery.

  I don’t get out a single one of my grouchy rejections to their offer to put in a couple of hours there tonight before I hear myself saying yes. I drop a text to Melissa and off I go, devoting myself to the fine work of making sure that every woman has a pussy they can be happy with.

  Melissa finds me not quite wrist deep in another woman, but close enough. I think she’s the only one embarrassed by it.

  “So glad it was you again, doc,” Cindy tells me, smoothing down her skirt one last time as I throw away the latex gloves after giving her a Pap smear. “I thought you’d left us for good. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been creeping around here more than once in the hopes of running into my favorite doc again!”

  Melissa’s standing awkwardly at the edge of the examination area, a small improvement to her standing awkwardly behind the curtain where she was before. Cindy’s a champ and I think Melissa could have taken a look at what she’s sporting downstairs without Cindy cocking a brow.

  “Well, you know me, can’t keep away from a place with so many beautiful women.”

  I chuckle as Cindy throws me a flirty, friendly wink and then reaches out her hand cheerfully to Melissa.

  “Hi! I’m Cindy.”

  Melissa looks at her hand like it’s about to bite her, before relenting and replying with a weak smile of her own and shaking the hand quickly. I half-expect her to reach for hand sanitizer as the next move.

  “Melissa.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Cindy chirps, leaving me no doubt that it’s strictly one-sided.

  The only place I’ve ever seen Melissa being comfortable at is wherever she is when I have my fingers in her or my tongue on her, or both. The thought of our upcoming ‘session’ tonight makes my cock twitch and I almost regret this Planned Parenthood detour.

  “You another one of Dr. Big’s patients?” Cindy enquires.

  I don’t even need to look at Melissa to know she’s about to turn beet red at the innocent question.

  “You could say that. I fully intend to use some alternative medicine on her,” I tell Cindy, tossing a wink not unlike the one Cindy gave me at Melissa.

  She looks entirely unimpressed, and as tongue-tied as before. I’m sure I can fix that soon enough, if we get out of this place before I offer her another vaginal exam right here in the middle of the crowded bay.

  “Lucky girl! Doc knows what he’s doing, I bet his alternative is as good as his traditional.”

  Cindy and I share a conspiratorial look and Melissa looks like she’d rather get hit by a train than listen to another word of this. It almost makes me want to keep going, but I don’t. Gentleman, and all that.

  “Right, I better be going then,” Cindy says, throwing her leather backpack over her shoulder and giving me a wave. “Don’t be a stranger, doc.”

  “Your results should be in a week from now. And I plan not to,” I tell Cindy as I pull back the rest of the curtain separating the examination area from the main room and clear up.

  She nods in understanding and scampers off, leaving Melissa and I not entirely alone as there’s always someone milling about here, but close enough.

  “So is that like a thing you do?” Melissa asks, sarcasm dripping on her tongue.

  “Help women in need wherever I can find them? Yup, that’s Dr. Big,” I say, grabbing my suitcase and my jacket along with Cindy’s test tube and documentation.

  I know exactly what Melissa means, but pissing her off is half the fun. My theory is that the angrier she is at me, the less she obsesses about her own non-problem. Maybe tonight can last longer than fifteen minutes. I wave her along as I drop the lab sample off and head for the front door.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she snorts, getting me to shrug.

  I usher her to my R8 and open the passenger door for her. She was here at 8:00 p.m. on the nose and the fact that we’re leaving at 8:10 p.m. probably irks her as well. This girl loves her rules,
and her habits.

  I get in the car after throwing my stuff in the back seat and we’re halfway out of the parking lot before I address her concerns.

  “I’m aware of what you meant, Melissa,” I start, turning onto the busy street. “If you’re asking me whether I’ve slept with Cindy, the answer is no. I can understand that it might be hard to believe, but I don’t make a habit out of picking up my patients. If I did, I wouldn’t be Dr. Big, I’d just be some guy with a hilarious name and a highly respectable dick.

  “What I’m getting at here, is that you’re a special case. Whether you choose to believe me or not is up to you, as most things have so far.”

  “We haven’t exactly been playing by my rules,” she grumbles.

  Chuckling, I turn off the main roadway and into the narrower streets leading up to my apartment complex. Every block closer has me feeling more confined and more eager to throw Melissa over my shoulder again to continue our ‘work’ together.

  “Maybe that’s why this is working.”

  She doesn’t say a word after that until we’re parked in the parking garage and sharing a tense elevator ride up. Tense, as in is she’s wound up like a coil while I can’t keep myself from watching her. She’s dressed in another demure little dress, her hair pinned back, perfecting the dowdy schoolmarm look. My hands itch to tear those clothes off of her and release the hungry, hot woman hiding behind that façade of cold disinterest.

  Catching the way she twitches every now and then when our arms touch in the small enclosed space, or the way she sneaks glances at me here and there, tells me all I need to know. I’m not the only fool here and that’s good enough for me.

  She steps into the penthouse as soon as the door unlocks and makes a beeline for my recliner, taking the same seat she did last time.

  “That’s my chair,” I tell her, putting my suitcase and jacket on the couch.

  That’s usually enough to get anyone scrambling out of my space. Melissa doesn’t bat a lash.

  “It’s my chair,” she replies simply, her hands folded in her lap.

  She throws one leg over the other and eyes me expectantly. I frown slightly, an idea mulling in my brain. Standing behind the couch and leaning on it with my elbows, I eye her.

  “Come sit on the couch.”

  “I want to sit on the chair. I sat on the chair last time, I feel comfortable on the chair,” Melissa says, tilting her chin up slightly and sounding entirely defiant.

  “Uh-huh,” I mutter, filing away that tidbit of stubbornness.

  Though I don’t think it’s just her being stubborn. I get the feeling that she can’t step out of her decided routine, that the only way she feels safe usually if she does things the way she has decided to do them. Which makes it all the more a big deal that she actually came to me.

  An opportunity I don’t intend to waste.

  “I’d offer you wine but you didn’t even finish the glass last time.”

  “Maybe you should have warned me better,” she says, that familiar scarlet blush creeping along her neck and cheeks again.

  “I think I did.”

  My cock’s begging to be let out, pleading with me to see if I can break this ice princess. I bet today isn’t the day, but I’m sure as fuck going to try. For both our sakes. I don’t know what it is about this woman, but I can’t get her off my mind. I’m not really a second date kind of guy, and she has me coming back for thirds.

  I’m sure it’s a problem on some level, but it’s not one I’m about to deal with when there’s a drop-dead gorgeous, complicated, sexy woman right in front of me.

  “I think you could have been a little clearer,” she snorts, turning to look away from me.

  I’m practically growling as I cross the distance between us and snatch her from her seat, pulling her up to her feet and enclosing her body in my arms. Pushing her close, I’m overwhelmed by her sweet scent and the way her breath hitches as she looks up at me has my head spinning and my cock throbbing against her belly.

  “I won’t lie to you, Melissa. Not now, not ever. The only problem you have is something we can fix and I intend to do just that. You just need to trust me. Do you trust me, Melissa?”

  I’m not sure why I’m surprised when she nods her head. It fills me with a sense of warmth and before I can stop to ponder about my sudden mushy feelings, I trap her mouth in a kiss that I’ve been hungering for since she walked in this evening.

  A soft whimper from her has me deepening the kiss, my tongue thrusting into her mouth, battling with hers. She nips at my lower lip and I grab her ass, hitching her up so her legs wrap around my waist and her hands grip my shoulders. Her pussy is right against my cock as I walk her into the bedroom, not once breaking the kiss.

  If she were any other woman, I probably wouldn’t have made it to the bedroom. The nearest wall would have been good enough. But Melissa isn’t like any other woman. She deserves the absolute best that I can give her.

  Setting her down on the bed, I resist the urge to pin her and fucking ravage her. I stand up in front of the bed, leaving her breathless and hazy-eyed, her lips puckered from the violent, needy kisses.

  “Take your clothes off,” I tell her as I start unbuttoning my white shirt with hasty fingers.

  “Doctor’s orders?” she asks, probably the first real tease I’ve heard out of her.

  “Yes,” I growl, and she jumps to do as I told her.

  She kicks off her low, sensible heels and undoes the zipper of her dress. As she pulls it off and over her head, I discard my shirt and undershirt, my hands faltering on my belt buckle for a moment as I get a good look at her.

  She’s wearing black, lacy underwear, the pattern of the bra licking at her gorgeous tits just right, and thigh-highs. It’s like she had a meeting with my subconscious and came in looking like something out of my fantasies and she doesn’t even know it.

  “You’re gorgeous,” I say, words that I use often, but with her, it feels different. Like I mean it more.

  Troubling.

  “You’re not so bad yourself,” she answers smartly, getting on her knees to undo my belt and zipper.

  She falters for a moment, looking up at me before pulling down my pants and boxers in one go. I love the way her expression mixes when my cock springs loose, thick and long and aching for her. Her chest rises and falls with short breaths, worry and arousal so fucking evident on her.

  I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything as badly as I want to be in this woman.

  “I thought I was maybe overselling it in my head,” she says softly, leaning back on the bed as I step out of my pants.

  “Overselling what?”

  “It,” she says, referencing my dick like it’s a Stephen King horror.

  “It won’t bite,” I promise, climbing on the bed with her and distracting her with another kiss.

  She leans into it willingly as I undo the clasp of her bra and a moment later fill my palms with her divine breasts. Shaking underneath me, her hands travel my arms and shoulders, down my back and stopping right before she reaches my ass. I knead her breasts, lavishing attention on them and when my mouth moves down to capture a nipple between my teeth, her back arches to meet me.

  Tense but willing is probably the best way that I can describe her, like two sides of her are battling with one another on whether this is everything she wants or her worst nightmare. Melissa’s palms go flat against my back as I ease one hand down her stomach and between her thighs, grazing my fingertips just over the lace of her panties.

  “If you want this, you need to return the favor,” I tell her, getting a confused look in response.

  I reach back and take her right hand and bring it to my cock. She gasps and I hiss out a breath at the same time as she touches me, making me pulse against her palm. I keep my grip on her wrist a while longer when her hand tries to twitch away. Another kiss finds her easing into it and when her grip locks around my cock, I groan into her mouth.

  “That’s it.”
r />   “It’s never going to fit,” she bites back, such conviction in her voice that I might as well be trying to reason with a flat earther here.

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself.”

  I slip my hand down the front of her panties to find her soaking wet. She bucks against me immediately, more a reaction than conscious thought, and as my fingertips start circling her clit, her hand starts slowly jerking me off. It’s pure torture in the best way when all I want is to be in her, but I know this will take time.

  Pressing herself against me, pleading for my mouth, we stay locked in ravenous, almost mindless kisses, working far too well to get one another off. Precum beads at the top of the head and it smears across her thigh as we shift position. It might be the first time she doesn’t mind being messy, her hair slipping out of the bun and her composure far from perfect.

  “So wet for me,” I growl against her lips, getting another sweet whimper out of her. “Tell me, how many fingers have you had in you that aren’t mine?”

  “None,” she gasps as I push in one, finding her so fucking tight.

  “And how many of mine have you had?” I demand, her hand working me faster.

  “Two,” she whines, and I force in another, her pussy accepting me eagerly.

  I can only imagine that I’d fucking pass out if I fucked her right now, so tight and perfect is she around my fingers that she would be absolute heaven around my cock. I work my fingers in and out of her in the same rhythm as she’s jerking me off, my thumb always on her clit, my mouth claiming her lips or kissing her neck.

  “You can take more, Melissa.”

  She practically freezes when I pull my hand off her pussy and hold it up, showing her my glistening fingers, thick and long, coated with her juices. She stares at them, transfixed. When her thumb flicks over the head of my cock, I can’t hold myself back any longer. I fuck her with two fingers again and as she’s arching into me, shaking and moaning, I insert a third. We both groan as her pussy opens for me so fucking eagerly that I can’t stop myself from wanting to taste her.