by Lana Brazen
Oh. My. God.
It’s strange but…intriguing. I can’t deny I want more as his thumb massages the base of my spine while his finger continues to enter and stretch me.
“Very receptive,” he admits. He removes his finger and asks me to stand. Shrugging off his lab coat, he lays it on the floor before him and then tugs forward his drawstrings. With fingers at the waistband, he lowers his pants and takes a seat on his rolling stool. Reaching for the drawer I remember holds condoms, he pulls one out and sets it on the exam table.
“Please kneel.” I do as he asks, kneeling on the lab coat. He rolls forward, straddling my body, and I lower my head, taking him in without further instruction. Drawing him to the back of my throat, I cup his balls and gently squeeze. He hisses as a hand comes to the side of my head. My mouth waters, and saliva drools over his stiff shaft. Sloppy and slurping, I squeeze the base of him, determined to make him lose the doctor reserve.
“I can hardly keep control with your mouth on me.”
Cupping his hands under my arms, he removes me from his glistening dick to stand before him, and then he reaches for the condom. He rips the foil and sheaths himself as I watch with hungry eyes. His throat rolls as he pumps himself and then spreads his knees wider.
I’m hyperaware of the liquid oozing over my backside and the ache lingering at my core.
“Please straddle my lap.”
My hands reach for his shoulders as his hand goes to my hip and guides me over his wide girth. Balancing on tiptoes, I slowly lower as he holds himself upright, aimed for my entrance. I lower, and we both groan. Slippery, slick, and warm. My arms wrap around his neck, balancing myself against him as he lifts and lowers my body to coat him. We sigh together as he fills me, deeper and different while I ride over him. Then his hand slips lower, creeping toward the puckered hole, dripping with lube.
“Relax,” he whispers as his finger enters, and I clench, squeezing his digit in both an attempt to force it away and hold it firm.
“Fuck,” he hisses, a break in his carefully composed demeanor. He removes the finger and then tenderly reenters. My body repeats the clutching, tightening my hold on both his finger and his cock.
“I want to feel you come like this. With me buried inside you at both ends.” With his finger still up my ass and his dick deep in my channel, he uses his other hand to rub my clit. The stool moves on unsteady wheels until he positions it against a wall at his back. His legs stretch forward, and suddenly, we’re stable as I rock my hips, squeezing both digit and dick.
“Don’t stop,” I moan, afraid I’ll fall from his lap while I grip his shoulders, gyrating over him. The telltale signs of an orgasm bloom, the flutters in my belly growing as my legs tremble. My eyes close as I give in to the sensation, the rush different than it’s been before. Creeping, crawling, culminating into a massive slam, and I still, clutching at him. Finger up my backside. Dick in my channel. Almost instantly, he releases as well, and the jolting of him inside me keeps the orgasm going like a slow pouring rain shower dancing over my skin.
When he stills, I whimper, on the verge of needing another release. He stands, hitching me up under my thighs. My backside hits the edge of the exam table, and he lowers me, pressing my shoulder to lie on my back. He takes one of my legs and raises the ankle for his shoulder, remaining inside me even though he’s losing his length. His fingers continue to rub at me, circling the edges and then entering my backside. He repeats the motion, taking his time to trace and torture until my eyes roll back, and I come undone again. The room wavers out of focus, and I think I’ve passed out.
Wrung out, I remain on the table a minute after he removes himself and returns to the ritual of wiping me clean.
“I’ve secured an assistant for your next appointment.”
My head rolls so I face him, and slowly, I sit upward. Something in my expression makes him smile, a crack again in the façade of his professional role-playing.
He reminds me to get dressed and meet him in the outer office. Appointment over.
4
The next time I enter the room, it’s been almost two months of activity from the start with Dr. Lubton, and I know the drill, but he follows his script until the introductions are necessary.
“Lana Blasen, with your permission, my student would like to observe today?” As if on cue, another man enters the room. He isn’t as striking as James Lubton. More rugged, solid, and stockier, but still equally as good looking. I’d place him slightly younger than the doctor, possibly closer to forty as his graying temples and the silver speckles in a trimmed beard hint at a maturing age. He wears scrubs like James minus the lab coat and nods at him first before addressing me.
“Ms. Blasen, nice to meet you. I’m Andrew Harden.” Laughter fills my throat along with nerves at his last name, so close to hard-on. Wondering if it’s a real name, I don’t ask. I shake his offered hand instead.
“Andrew is my student, so today’s exam will seem rather routine. However, with your consent, I might ask his opinion or participation on occasion.” Ever the doctor, James’s tone matches his demeanor, but today, pride fills his voice as he takes on a preceptor role. My eyes meet Andrew’s, and I smile.
“That would be fine,” I say to him, wondering if he’s as anxious as I am. Or if this is part of their combined routine? Does he know what he’s doing? Have they worked together before? Are they a couple? It’s hard to tell in the Florida community, but I’d err on the side of caution and say James is not homosexual. Andrew might be bi, but I’m not going to let either thought discourage me.
“If you’ll sign the necessary consents, I’ve added additional forms for Andrew.”
I accept the clipboard, skim the lines, and sign. James sits while Andrew stands, but Dr. Lubton eventually joins Andrew, and they exit the room after providing instructions on how to dress. After my last visit, in which we were a little less structured and swayed a bit more from what I would consider a routine doctor exam, I’m curious what today will bring. I’m also questioning if I should continue. My head and heart are beginning to conflict. I don’t think James should be my solitary experience in this lifestyle, but I also don’t know if I’m ready for another role-play without him. On that note, I’ve accepted a date with Xavier to test my abilities at getting to know someone before having sex, and I’m leaning toward this visit being my last for a while.
Go out with a bang, it’s often said.
I sit as I always do, anxious and anticipating, my core achy as I wait for their re-entrance into the room.
“Ready?” the doctor questions. When he peers around the door and sees that I am, he enters, followed by Andrew.
James takes his seat on the stool, moving between my legs while Andrew remains to his side but leaning against the wall at his back. Working over my feet and up my legs, I spread as James instructs, uncertain where to focus my attention. I typically look at the good doctor while he inspects me or glance across the room, but Andrew is in my line of vision, and his focus is on me.
“She has excellent flexibility,” James explains as he spreads my legs to the corners of the table, and I’m exposed to both men. Andrew’s eyes remain on my center, and I’m curious if he can see that I glisten with desire. His one arm propped across his chest supports his other, and his fingers trace over his lips. I find the motion strangely sexual, as if his mouth waters, and he wants to eat me.
James tests my arms as he had on the first encounter, massaging at my shoulders a little longer than necessary and then guiding me to lie back for the breast exam.
I blow out a deep breath as I accept the examination and open the papery gown, revealing both breasts to them.
“Would it be okay with you, Lana, if Andrew assisted in the breast exam? Perhaps he could stand on the other side of the table.”
There isn’t as much space on my left, but I nod, and Andrew presses off the wall, silently walking to the other side of me. He watches James at first, and then he asks, “Do you e
njoy that?”
His deep voice draws me into the reality of this visit. He’s going to touch me as well, and then he mimics James, drawing along my collarbone, down my chest, and circling the heavy globe. His finger feels different—meatier, callused even—and applies firmer pressure. I love it, and I sigh as both men work in tandem, drawing circles over my achy swells until meeting at the nipple and tugging. Andrew pulls a little harder.
“One thing we’ve discussed in the past is Lana’s arousal abilities. Again, with your permission, perhaps Andrew could assist me?”
I look at James, whose eyes focus on stroking over my breasts, manipulating them together and palming the thick flesh as Andrew walks to the end of the table.
“That would be fine, Doctor.” A small smirk graces the stunning doctor’s lips, and Andrew shifts to sit on the stool.
“Andrew, feel free to examine Lana and describe for her what you are doing or how it feels to you.”
A thick digit presses my clit, immediately going for the trigger point, and then swoops around my entrance, down to my anus, and back up the other side.
“You are excessively wet, Lana. Is this common for you?”
“Yes.”
“And how often are you fucked?”
I swallow back the answer. “Only when I come here.” James’s eyes close for a second, and I feel like I’ve said something I shouldn’t.
“I see,” Andrew adds. He has a nice voice, deeper than James, with a playful hint in his tone. He isn’t going to be as professional, and I’m okay with that.
“May I examine you further, Lana? My fingers want to fuck you.”
“Yes.” With the attention on my breasts and Andrew’s thick finger entering me, I bow off the table a little.
“She can handle more, Andrew.” A second finger promptly fills me. With his thicker digits, I’m full, and my hips rock as Andrew moves in and out, drawing me closer and closer to the edge.
“Lana, how could Andrew further stimulate you?”
I swallow back all the naughty thoughts and go with the tamest. “His mouth.”
I’ve hardly finished speaking when the flat pad of his tongue swipes up me, and I arch from the attention. Andrew is more vigorous than James, but the eager attention isn’t unwanted. As Andrew laves at my core, James lowers for a breast, sucking at it, and the sensation is otherworldly. My body prickles and heats as an orgasm builds.
“Don’t stop,” I mutter, but Andrew pulls away.
“She’s dripping,” he states, returning a finger into me, and I whimper at the change in friction.
“Make her come,” James instructs. Andrew’s finger retracts, and his mouth returns to my clit.
It only takes a few seconds for me to lose control. My hips rock. Andrew doesn’t force me down as much as James, allowing me to ride his face and feel the tickle of his scruff. With James laving at my breast, I come apart and realize James has been fisting his dick in his hand.
“How did she taste, Andrew?”
“Like candy,” he says, moving off the stool to stand next to me. James takes his position by my feet, and his finger begins to trace my swollen folds.
“Lana sometimes struggles to remain quiet. If you’d like to test her gag reflex while I continue the exam.” There isn’t a question. Andrew removes his scrub pants and strokes himself once while I turn my head. My mouth falls open as he guides himself to me, and I open, licking up his shaft and then sucking at the head. The angle isn’t ideal, but I twist a bit, guiding him as best I can when James’s mouth comes to my dripping center.
Instantly, I notice the difference. His tongue isn’t as fierce, but tender, and the lingering twirl draws out another set of flutters. Being sucked while I suck isn’t something I’ve ever done before, and my mouth draws harder at Andrew, determined to match the pleasure I’m given.
“I need to come,” Andrew warns, but Dr. Lubton scolds, “Not yet.”
“Lana, what do you need?” James asks, and I close my eyes.
“I want him inside me.” I’m on the edge myself, but I need more. James stands and trades places with Andrew, who covers himself with a condom. My head tips up to watch him, and he drives into me.
“This is unreal,” he mutters, pulling back and then slamming forward. He isn’t as graceful as James, but he’s thick, and his stuttering attention draws me quickly to the edge again. My feet aren’t in the stirrups, but Andrew has slipped his hands under my knees, holding my legs up and wide as his hands balance on the edge of the table.
As Andrew works me, I turn and reach for James’s erection, straining forward in the thin material of his scrubs, the front wet from his tip. He quickly tugs them down and holds himself forward.
“You should see your face. You look beautiful.”
I feel beautiful. I feel empowered. I feel like I could do anything, even bring these men to their knees. James steps closer to the table side, and I open for him, eager to please him while Andrew slides and slips within me.
“I’m going to come,” Andrew says too quickly, and he pulls out of me.
“Come on her not inside her,” James instructs, and Andrew rips the condom free and streams of milky substance dance over my lower abs. I’ve released James to watch, and James lowers the table.
“Andrew, I have one more way to assess Lana’s arousal. If you’ll please assist.” Turning to me, he says, “Lana, you’re going to ride me.”
His pants are removed, and he slips his scrub top over his head. For the first time, I fully see his stomach, which is ripped with a smattering of chest hair and a thick treasure trail. I want to run my fingers through the curls, and it appears I’m going to get the chance.
Andrew leads me off the table while James climbs on and then I crawl over James. He moves so his legs hang off the table, and my knees balance near the edge. He rolls on a condom and holds himself upright so I may lower on him. Instantly, Andrew’s hands come to my hips, helping me bounce up and down on James.
“Andrew,” James commands.
“Lana, have you ever had anal sex before?”
“I haven’t.”
“We’ve been working on stretching her. Perhaps again, you could assist.”
As I work up and down James’s stiff shaft with the guidance of his hands now on my hips, I hear the familiar snap of a cap.
“Lana, if you’ll hold still a second,” James instructs, and Andrew pushes me forward at the shoulder blades, rubbing down my spine and then cupping each of my cheeks. He tugs them apart, then presses them back together, forming a rhythm of massage as I rest on James.
“I need to move,” I whimper, and James pushes at my hips, rocking me back and forth, my clit resting on his pelvic bone. My eyes flutter closed as the friction is divine, and my fingers dig into the curls on his chest.
“Fuck,” he mutters, clamping his fingers tighter on my hips. “Andrew, would you please fuck her with your finger.”
The pressure of his forefinger hits the puckered entrance covered in gel and then slides forward.
“Add a second,” James commands.
“I don’t…”
“You can do this,” James encourages, and Andrew does as he’s told. It burns, and I hold still at the pressure. Andrew stands closer, the prickle of his scrub-covered chest against my bare back. A hand comes around me to my front, cupping under a breast as if he’s casually using it to leverage me in a position.
“Lana, we’ll go when you’re ready. Move when you can.” I rise, sensing the slippage of each man: dick and digit. I clench and lower.
“Jesus,” James hisses. “Lana, I’m going to ask you to hold still while I thrust up into you.”
Something tells me our roles have flipped. I’m no longer the patient but the one in control, and he is losing his. He’s done so much for me over our visits that I want to give him this. I want to see him come undone under me.
I do as he asks while he lifts and lowers my body, which swallows him deep, feeling the pressur
e of something up my backside rubbing against his thrusts.
“So good,” he praises. His lids lazily lower, and his head rolls to the side as he strains for a rhythm. Andrew moves behind me, rocking against the position of his hand, imitating what he might do if he were to enter me there while James is under me. The possibility of two dicks thrusting into me draws me deeper into the fantasy, and I rock. James’s eyes snap open, holding mine.
“I’m going to fucking come.” He hisses as he speaks, and a thrill rushes through me as he pulses and pumps inside my channel.
“Lana,” he whispers without looking at me, and I direct Andrew, “Withdraw your fingers.”
When he does, I move over James’s pelvic bone as I had before, rubbing my clit against the solid form, until my legs quiver and my fingers dig into James’s chest hair. I lose control, my head lolling forward as I clench over him like I never have. Stars dance before my eyes, and before I know it, I collapse onto his chest, resting with my cheek near his heart, listening to the rapid patter.
The click of the door tells me Andrew has left the room, and even though I’m wondering why, I can’t move. I’m draped over James, who hasn’t pushed me away, and I close my eyes. When his hand weakly comes to my lower back, I slowly lift, taking it as a silent signal to remove myself. Instead, he presses, and I remain in place a little longer, my heart rate lowering. Shivers prickle my skin as the coolness of the room mixes with our combined sweat.
Lifting us both with his hand still on my lower back, we awkwardly move as he slips out of me, and I continue to straddle his lap. Juices leak from me, but I’m caught off guard when he tenderly strokes back the hair on the side of my face, curling it behind my ear.
“How do you feel?” he asks, and the question surprises me as we normally don’t speak until we enter the outer office.
“I’m always all mixed up when we finish, but I really enjoyed that.” I pause for a second, asking the question I want to ask. “Are you and Andrew a couple?”