Attending Physician

by Vivienne Hartt Quinn

  I took the tip of her hardness and rubbed it from front to back along my sex. “Milord, I’m taking what I want.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she said, her eyes glued to my pussy framed in pink lace.

  She watched as I placed her where I so wanted her, and let myself be seated slowly, ever so slowly, but completely, on top of her. When she was fully sheathed inside me, I smiled gently.

  “Better, baby?” she asked.

  “Yes, sir,” I said, “much, but it can be better still.”

  She reached to slide the bra straps off my shoulders, slipping the lace over my nipples so they were exposed to her hands. They were hard and dark with longing, my breasts swollen with desire, and as she began to roll both between thumbs and forefingers, I started to pant, and my hips began to rock against her hardness.

  My orgasm hovered on the very verge of release. The tension had built between us enough that I wouldn’t be able to last long.

  “Come for me, baby,” she whispered as she raised her mouth to reach for my nipple.

  The hard draw into her mouth sent me over the edge the first time, and I screamed her name.

  “Baby, more,” she murmured against my aching breast. “More, baby. Move.”

  With that she arched her hips against mine, and drove her cock deeper into me. It jumpstarted my own rhythm. I began to rotate my hips in circles, first left, then right until I was ready again. I came undone, shaking in my orgasm.

  Then Raven reached for my sweet spot and began to trace feather-light circles there over the saturated pink silk. “Come again, baby. Do it for me, sweetheart,” she murmured, and she kept on with those gentle touches. That passionate coil in my belly began to glow inside me.

  I’d approached it with Raven but never followed it through to wherever it led.

  “Raven!” I gasped.

  “Stay with it, baby. This is different, I know. Stay with it. See where it takes you, beautiful.”

  I started to do what she told me, focusing on the sensation in my belly. It made my rhythm on her cock shift. It would speed up, and then slow down. I’d go fast, and then slow and easy, then I’d speed up again. I let my belly tell me what to do.

  My breath got shallower and shallower. Raven kept her fingers gentle, so demanding at the same time as inquiring. My hips began to shake as they opened to take more of her.

  “Baby, you can do this,” Raven gentled me. “Trust it. Trust your beautiful body. You deserve this pleasure, sweetheart. Ride it,” and as she talked, I began to come from a place I’d never known existed within me. Deep feminine space. My womb contracted as the orgasm rippled down my legs covering me in goosebumps and making the skin all over my body flush with heat.

  Just as I thought I’d start to come down, Raven ratcheted up the heat.

  “One more, baby. This time with me please. I want you to come with me, baby. Look at me, watch my eyes. I want you so much, my beautiful lady.” As she spoke, she pressed my sweet spot harder and faster sending sensation rocketing through my nervous system. I thought I’d die of pleasure.

  Oh.

  My.

  God.

  “Now, baby. Now,” commanded Raven.

  Her orgasm triggered mine so hard that flashes of light appeared in front of my eyes.

  “Raven!” I screamed, holding on tight with my knees against her hipbones. Her hands were on my waist as I bucked on top of her, my skin flushed again and again with the passion she’d unleashed in me, gasping for breath, and finally hitting upon her wrists for purchase.

  She canted her hips hard again and again to wring every last sensation out of this new place in my being and finally raised her hands from my waist up my ribcage to guide me against her on the floor.

  For the longest time, I couldn’t speak.

  She looked down at me lying against her chest, and I felt rather than saw her satisfaction. She deserved it. Finally, I tried to stifle a giggle.

  “What’s amusing, baby?” Raven asked.

  “Earlier I’d thought to myself that I needed five orgasms to release the tension that this day had brought me.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said.

  “I had five.”

  “So you did, milady,” she agreed politely. “Happy?”

  I lifted my head. “What does my face say, sir?”

  She considered my face seriously. “You definitely look more at ease.”

  “You think?”

  “Yeah,” she said.

  “You too,” I said.

  “Well, yeah,” she agreed. “You’re awesome.”

  “You’re not too bad yourself, milord,” I grinned. “Hungry?”

  “Starving.”

  “How did I know?”

  Chapter 59

  We had leftover Chinese, my usual menu of choice, once we’d neatened the trail of clothing and donned robes.

  I was extremely vulnerable—maybe because of the biker foray—but more, I thought, because of the intensity of the sex. Raven, remarkable butch that she is, picked up on it.

  “Baby, you okay?”

  I snuggled into her. “Mm-hm,” I said.

  “It doesn’t seem that way.”

  My cheek was against her shoulder. “Raw, I guess.”

  “The sex,” she said. “Yes?”

  “I think so.”

  “No worries, milady. It wasn’t intense and scary only for you.”

  “Raven, remember this morning when I got out of the shower?”

  “Vividly,” her voice deepened.

  I laughed. “You know how Lucy asked me to fix Gretchen?”

  “Sort of.”

  “I need the same healing Gretchen does.”

  “You do?” she responded. “Well, that’s cool.”

  “Why is that?” I asked leaving the shelter of her encircling arms to put water on for tea.

  “Because you’ll both benefit. Isn’t that how healing is supposed to work?”

  I gaped at her thoroughly amazed.

  “Raven, how in the hell do you know that?”

  “I had a ....”

  “No, wait, don’t tell me. Another psych rotation, right?”

  “Yeah. I learned a lot on those rotations.”

  “Very smart, Dr. Lange,” I said pouring water to warm the pot. “Very few people know that real healing is always reciprocal. And you’re right. It will be good for me to help Gretchen because it will help me along the way.”

  “Do you know what you have to forgive?” she asked.

  “I do.”

  “Would you tell me?”

  “Shelby,” I said. “But less her, that part is just shy of complete, more me and Goddess.”

  She added her silent agreement. “Wonder if I still have clean-up to do with Jenny?”

  “Only you can know that, milord.”

  “I bet I do,” she said. “Maybe we should work on it this weekend together? What do you say? We’ll make it conscious, and Lucy can ....”

  “Be the ringmaster?” I laughed. “We’ll have to give her a whip.”

  “Lord,” she laughed, too. “May as well let her have the job she wants.”

  “Since we have no choice anyway, right?”

  “Details, milady, details. Speaking of which, Lucy looked very grown-up today with her hair done and that make-up on. You’re not planning on rushing her, are you?”

  “Heavens no, darling, just letting her spread her girl wings.”

  “Good, ‘cause I’m telling you, milady, I’m not letting her date till she’s thirty.”

  I cracked up. “Um, milord, perhaps when the time gets closer, we’ll need to be slightly more flexible, but let’s not pick it up till then, shall we? I think we’re at least safe till kindergarten.”

  Raven sighed dramatically. “Okay. Jesus, raising a child is a lot of responsibility. And I’m not doing it in an everyday way! I don’t know how most parents cope.”

  “Want an answer?” I didn’t wait for her response. “They a/ want a child; b/ cr
eate the child themselves; c/ plan and dream for the child; d/ grow into the parents of the child they want and create. Emphasis on grow.

  “You, by contrast, are really a stepparent. You essentially missed two years and nine months and however long conceiving Lucy took, not to mention the dream time, and you’re always playing catch up. Step-parenting is one of the hardest relationships in the whole world.”

  “How did you get to be so wise on the subject of kids?”

  “Well, not so much kids really as parents. A lot of my clients are parents who are constantly doubting their parenting skills.” I poured our tea. “It’s going around these days—ever hear of hover parents?”

  Raven said, “Sure.”

  “Raven, listen. Do you love Lucy?”

  “More than I thought I could love anyone.”

  “Do you want what’s good for her?”

  “Always. Do I always know what that is? Uh ....”

  “You don’t have to, darling. You do, however, have to want what’s good for her.”

  “Check.”

  “If you don’t know what’s good for her, do you have people you can ask for advice?”

  “Yeah, Gretchen, my guys, you now.”

  “Do you trust your advisors?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So what’s left is to trust yourself.”

  “Which brings us to Jenny,” said Raven.

  “It does?”

  “Yeah, because the conclusion I drew from that relationship was that I could not trust myself to choose the right person.”

  “Which, then you are correct, my darling, does indeed bring us to Jenny.” I cocked my head at her. “Let’s see if we can enlist Gretchen in a forgiveness game this weekend while we get ready for the party, shall we?”

  “You’re on, Verity.”

  “Goody,” I said, sparkling at her. “And for the record, Dr. Lange, you chose me.”

  “That I did, milady.”

  I walked Raven to the sofa in the living room and snuggled against her as we drank our tea, talking about nothing and everything till we stumbled, early for once, into bed and sleep.

  Raven took her turn to waken me.

  “Baby, I need to fuck you.”

  “As you wish, sir,” I murmured shifting onto my back at once.

  I pulled up the full sweep skirt of my black nightie, and wrapped my spread thighs around her hips. She wasted no time but entered me in one smooth motion, filling me full, and fucking me sweetly. I came easily and gently like a warm wash of water over my body. Raven was slightly more energetic, but not much. We both exhaled our relaxation as she curled me tight into her side and urged me to sleep again.

  Chapter 60

  Morning brought us awake to one another in the same positions. I slept better with Raven than I had since I’d divorced two years earlier. Shelby and I had slept separately for a couple years before that as well.

  I leaned up to Raven’s ear. “I hope you always wake me at night when you need me, milord.”

  “Count on it, milady.” She brushed her mouth against mine. “Good sleep?”

  “The best,” I said. “You know, despite the fact that we’ve had some dramatic days, I’m feeling good.”

  “Are you?”

  “I am, and I think, if I’m not mistaken, darling, that’s to your credit.”

  “Well,” she said modestly, “I am the capo.”

  Had I been able to curtsey lying down, I would have. “You are, darling,” I said instead, rolling my eyes and batting my eyelashes at the same time. I’m very talented.

  “Come on, wench, tea! Coffee! Breakfast! We have patients to see, and two days till the weekend. D’you think it’s possible we could have two normal go-to-work and come-home days? Without biopsies? Without bikers? Without betrayal?”

  “That sounds heavenly. Shall we order dinner in tonight?”

  “Or I could cook, baby.”

  “You cook?”

  “You don’t.”

  “Not if I can help it, but I do have some special things I make. Like I’ll offer Gretchen to make my mama’s best casserole for the barbeque.”

  “How’s steak, and baked potatoes, and salad tonight, and I’ll cook?”

  “Here?”

  “Why not?”

  “Yes! I’d love that. I’ll set the table.”

  “Lovely. I bet Gretchen jumps at your casserole offer. The Butch Brigade would eat her out of house and home if she’d let us.”

  “I’ll call her today.”

  “Baby, you have patients coming here today, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Please don’t go out on your own.”

  I froze. “Why not?”

  “Because the bikers are out of custody. Let’s be cautious till the weekend, okay?”

  “Okay,” I lamented. I didn’t like feeling caged in, but I also knew she was right. “Who’s shopping?”

  “Gretchen will. She’ll shop for the barbeque today. I’ll stop by and get everything from her, give Lucy a piggyback ride and be here by six.”

  I didn’t start till ten on Thursdays and I finished at five so that was perfect. “Okay.”

  “Don’t worry, baby,” she reassured me from the circle of her arms. “I’ll talk to Terry and we’ll figure out how you get to leave the house by the weekend.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said dejectedly.

  “I know, sweetheart, it’s a bad feeling, but better safe than sorry given who we’re dealing with and their past behavior?”

  When she left, after a thorough good-bye kiss—enough to make me threaten to take her back to bed if she didn’t cease and desist (which, needless to say, did not have that effect)—I shook off the bad feeling and fell into the psych world where I excel. I called Gretchen during my half hour for lunch. I emailed her the ingredients I’d need and asked her to buy two aluminum pans. The casserole was on. It ran to five o’clock before I turned around.

  Remarkably, we had a lovely romantic dinner, snuggled on the chilly autumn porch in the last of the dwindling light whilst Raven had a beer, talked over our days like normal people, went to bed early, made love with passion if some restraint because of the intensity of the previous evening, and slept well.

  When I wakened in the early morning, I was still in the circle of Raven’s arms. I lay there savoring the feeling: snuggled, warm, safe—I guess the best words were treasured, cherished, like I was valuable to her. Some not-so-random proverb floated through my brain: A good woman is more valuable than rubies.

  “I can practically hear you thinking, milady,” said a sleepy Raven.

  “Did I wake you?” I asked.

  “Maybe. What’s up?”

  “Healing, I think,” I said.

  “Of?”

  “Shelby.” I faced her. “I was lying here thinking I felt valued, treasured, cherished.”

  “Uh-huh,” Raven said holding me tighter to her.

  “I didn’t feel that way with Shelby. Maybe in the early part of our relationship but eventually I was not only undervalued, but not valued at all. I was a trial for her, a problem.” The tears welled in my eyes. “I don’t like being a part of the problem. My preference is always to be part of the solution.”

  Raven watched me, completely still.

  “Verity, listen to me,” Raven began. “You gotta get this, baby, for real, for true, for keeps. Those feelings, that behavior, that treatment of you was on her, not on you.”

  “I know, Raven, but I allowed it. I participated in it. I ... stayed ... in the face of it.”

  And there it was: hanging in the crisp morning air for us both to see. I stayed—when it wasn’t good for me, when it hadn’t been good for me for a long, long time—I stayed. Did I need to know the reason/s? Maybe, but more, I needed to be done.

  “Uh-huh,” agreed Raven. “Don’t you suppose you did the very best you could at the time?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “No, really think about that. If you could have
left, wouldn’t you have?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Exactly, baby. You don’t know, and you don’t know because you can’t know so this second-guessing and giving yourself a hard time stops this weekend. You did what you did. Period. In hindsight, do you see you could have done it differently? Sure. Can’t everyone? And you didn’t. So?”

  “Are you hearing yourself, Raven?”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Oh, yes, milady, believe me, I am.”

  “So you know you need to apply this advice to Jenny?”

  “I do. Real healing, baby? Reciprocal.” She stretched her long body, effectively unmaking the bed, saw me react to it, and said, “I’ll fix it, ma’am. Coffee? Coffee? Coffee? I deserve it,” she whined. “I’m solving your world’s problems before I’m even out of bed!”

  I laughed. “So you are, o capo mio. Coffee it is.” My nightie swished around my legs as I slid out of bed.

  “I’m getting used to this vision, milady.”

  “Vision, milord?”

  “My gorgeous femme in a black lace nightgown every morning.”

  “Used to this as in it doesn’t affect you anymore? Think carefully before you answer.”

  She bounded out of bed and kissed me till I was ready to swoon. “No, ma’am,” she assured me, “not that. Not at all.”

  “Good,” I tossed at her, “that would be a tragedy.”

  She kissed the back of my hand lingeringly like a naughty eighteenth century courtier, “It would indeed, milady, it definitely would.”

  Her leer was stage-worthy.

  Chapter 61

  While Raven was in the shower, it nabbed me broadside that I needed to make three pans of my mother’s casserole—Moose by proper name (no earthly idea why)—not two. I called Gretchen and upped the grocery order. I thought we could have one pan for dinner Saturday so Gretchen didn’t have to cook. Making one pan of Moose is complicated already so three were more of the same. I’d do that on Saturday.

  “Baby, may I take you out for dinner tonight?” Raven spoke from the bedroom as she got dressed.

  “Yes,” I said, “where do you want to go?”

  “A yummy Italian place I know in Davis Square. It’s called Out of the Blue.”