Attending Physician
Page 30
“You mean like when I take you from behind? We’ve done that.”
“No, because I can feel your breath on my back, and I know your face is close.” It was hard to explain because I didn’t always know what would trigger me. “I usually get some warning if I’m triggered, darling. That’s the best I can promise, and I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”
Raven held my hands.
“The thing is, and this is why I don’t like to talk about this, I don’t want you to treat me like a delicate flower or damaged goods or whatever else your butch brain decides I am because six men were cruel and took my innocence thirty-eight years ago. I’m still me. It’s that this experience is a part of me that needs some tender care.”
Raven twinkled at me. “Oh, I see, milady. You mean you still want me to fuck you till you’re screaming?”
“Yes, sir,” I spoke in dead seriousness, “I most definitely do, and, to be fair, you promised me earlier this afternoon you’d do just that.”
“I did, milady, I did indeed,” she said rocking on her heels. “And I am a butch of my word.”
Then she said with all the tenderness in the world, “Baby, we’ll work with this, I promise. Not tonight, but we will shift it for you. It’ll take some time, and it will be well worth it when all’s said and done. I swear to you, milady, on my honor.”
Then, she pulled me into her arms, grabbed my ass, and kissed me soundly. “To bed, wench! Enough of this shilly-shallying!”
She gave me a head start on the stairs but she captured me at the top easily. I so appreciated the change in tone.
“Did you bring something with you that might entice me to your bed, ma’am?” Raven asked.
“As a matter of coincidence, if you believe in that sort of thing, I did, sir,” I curtseyed. A new black nightgown, very 1930s, with spaghetti straps, low cut in front, lower in back in shimmery, slinky satin silk cut on the bias that washed over my skin like a black satin river.
“Let’s see it then,” she instructed.
I disappeared into her en-suite loo with my overnight bag. I spritzed perfume onto the gown, slipped out of my clothes and into the nightie, added a touch of whisper pink lip-gloss and some smoky grey eye shadow, and I was a glamour girl from early days of the movies. Kitten-heeled slippers and a matching peignoir completed my ensemble.
Raven had lit the fire, and was sprawled in a broad armchair by it in a man’s silk paisley robe, the lord of the manor indeed.
“Good evening, milord,” I said in my best sultry.
“Milady,” she had that imperious thing down to a tee, “spin.” She signaled her desire for me to make a circle and model my nightwear for her. “Delicious. You are fetching, ma’am.”
“Indeed, sir,” I said, letting the peignoir slide down my arms and onto the floor.
Her breath hitched. “Quite.”
“Show me, milord.”
I stepped forward and she reached for me nuzzling her face against my belly in the soft fabric.
“Baby,” her voice deepened.
“Sir,” I matched her.
“Come sit on my lap.”
Chapter 71
The nightie was form fitting. In order to do as she’d asked, and believe me, I so wanted to do just that, I had to lift the hem. Rather high. She slid her warm hands up the outsides and backs of my slender legs urging me toward her in the chair. Then she lifted me by the waist, and I spread my legs so that I straddled her, my naked sex damp against her robe.
“You smell divine, milady.”
Raven pulled my face down toward hers nibbling at my bottom lip. Then she reached into my hair and released the clip so that it fell in a cascade of curls around us. Weaving her hands into my hair, she tilted my face to her liking and kissed me like it had been months, not minutes.
My breasts swelled, my nipples hardened. I arched my back, thrusting my breasts toward her. One hand slipped to my exposed ass.
“Baby, you are so hot,” she murmured against my ear. “I need to fuck you, milady.”
“So you’ve said, sir. When might you be available to do that?” I inquired sweetly.
Without another word, she shifted her hips so the tip of her cock was just inside my hot passage. Then she caught my eyes, “Now, milady?”
I sank onto her hardness satisfied at feeling full. “Yes, sir,” I agreed.
“Better, milady?”
“Oh, yes. Much.” She grinned like a teenage boy. “I believe you have some work to do, milord.”
She lifted me by my hips and began to enter me over and over again. “Touch yourself, baby. I want to watch you.”
Obedient, I did as she asked, aware that it always was hot to have someone watch. Always. I began to stimulate myself the way I’d done when I’d taken care of my own sexual needs for so many years. It made for a very fast orgasm.
Raven knew the instant I was ready. “Come for me, milady. Keep your eyes open, stay with me, and come for me. Show me how beautiful you are.”
It was very intimate, but I liked it, so I did as she asked. I came gently, with her cock quiet inside me, and she whistled her contentment.
“More please, sir,” I said echoing that oft-quoted line from Oliver Twist.
“As you wish, milady.” She ramped us up a notch, fucking me fast and hard, till I came again. But then she didn’t back off, no, she kept it up, faster, harder, till I was barely able to sit in her lap, I came so many times. Finally, she carried me, impaled on her cock, to the bed.
There she lifted my legs and balanced them over her shoulders. “Baby, one more time. Come with me this time, and let it build between us.” She was masterful taking me, then herself, then me, then herself to the edge, but not over it, time after time.
“Raven!” I screamed, aching for my release. “Please,” I whimpered, “please.”
“Please?”
“Now?” I asked. No, I begged.
“Now, baby,” she drove deeper and harder into me till I thought my womb would explode with the pressure and then it did—sending ripples of sensation up and down my body again and again, again and again, again and again till I wondered if it would ever stop. Our orgasms echoed one another’s; an experience I’d never had with anyone.
“Verity,” Raven focused me on her face.
“Yes?”
“I am so in love with you, milady. So very much in love with you.” She leaned down and kissed me tenderly, lingeringly, as she left the inner space of my body. I arched my back to reach her mouth and return her kiss.
“Thank you, darling,” I said. “Come and hold me.” I slipped between the covers, and invited her to join me.
Raven held me close, biting my neck bruise again. “Mine,” she whispered, “for keeps.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “Yours for keeps.”
I slept well for a first night in a new place, but I decided that morning in the mirror that I’d probably sleep well in Raven’s arms in middle of rush hour in Grand Central Station.
Lucy would not get out of bed till Lady read to her in the morning. She simply boycotted morning till I gave in. We left Charming and company arriving at the home of Cinderella and the peculiar attempts of her wicked stepsisters to jam their hideous, huge dogs into the delicate glass footwear. No Cinderella sightings yet. That would come later that evening.
Gretchen wakened full of vitality, energized and rarin’ to go to make this party the best ever. We commandeered Raven’s services for brawn immediately, plunking Lucy down with Ariel where she’d left off but this time in Gretchen’s side of the house. Raven chilled beer and soda, prepared hamburgers, moved chairs and tables.
Gretchen and I removed everything from the fridge so it would have time to become room temperature. We arranged good paper plates, cups, utensils, and napkins. I sent Raven to Whole Foods for some flowers for a centerpiece.
She muttered, “She wasn’t kidding about the centerpiece,” as I kissed her good-bye with a laugh. Of course I wasn’t.
Raven did very well with the flowers for the centerpiece given that I sent her by herself. Note to self: reward your butch later. Around noon, I escaped to Raven’s to shower and get dressed for the party. I’d brought a rich green corduroy shirtwaist dress, which made my green eyes sparkle.
As I let the hot water fall onto my shoulders, hands landed there, then a naked torso slid against my back. “Baby,” Raven said, “your silhouette was too beautiful. I couldn’t resist.”
I pressed my slippery, wet femme self against her.
Raven breathed hard. “God, woman, you’re sexy,” she said.
I reached up to kiss her, asking by raising a leg and wrapping it over her hip for her to take me. Raven reached down to my wet cleft and slid her fingers through the soft red curls. Then she torqued her wrist and her long fingers scissored inside my pussy. Placing me perpendicular to her so she could reach, her other hand found my ass, and began to tease there, sliding fingers up and down over the rings of muscle, causing my interior walls to quiver.
“Raven,” I moaned. “Raven, darling ....”
“Yes, baby. You’re so responsive. Let go, baby. Let me in, sweetheart.”
I willed the muscles of my ass to relax and then her fingers breached both front and back. I gasped with the intensity of it. “Yes, oh, yes,” I arched my hips to get the most penetration from both ends. “Yes, oh, darling ....”
“Yes, baby,” she crooned, “now come, sweetheart. Come all over my hands.”
Oh. My. God.
What she does to me.
I did as instructed and came unglued in the shower, unsure, as she let me go, whether I would be able to stand on my own. I was, but barely. Once on land, I wrapped myself in one of her not-quite-charcoal grey towels—a gorgeous color for both of us—and began to do my face as Raven rinsed herself in the shower and dried off.
She wrapped the towel around her waist and came to stand behind me, catching my face in the mirror. “Beautiful, milady,” she said softly, “so beautiful.”
“Thank you, milord,” I said.
“Are you cool about what you told me last night?”
I thought for a second. Truth? I hadn’t thought of it again. “Yes, I think so.”
“Are you glad you told me?”
“No,” I was truthful, “but it had to be done, and I’m glad the telling’s over. I wish it hadn’t happened so I never had to tell that story.”
Raven knelt down and faced me to her. Then she pressed her face against my sex, and kissed me tenderly over the towel.
Rising, she said, “You give me such pleasure, milady.”
“As do you me, milord,” I bobbed a curtsey.
Then I went into the bedroom to get dressed. Raven dressed in her walk-in closet.
“Let’s go host a party, ma’am,” she said, taking my hand. “Our first.”
“Yes, let’s,” I agreed.
Gretchen and Lucy decorated cookies they’d baked with almonds, egg whites and sugar. I pitched in to make it go faster. Raven supervised Lucy, which made it far less messy.
Gretchen confessed that she’d called a few of the guys and instructed them to bring desserts as well. We expected apple pie, the à la mode that went with it, a chocolate cake, and a couple dozen varied sorts of cookies. No one would lack sweets at this shindig.
Chapter 72
The front doorbell rang.
“That has to be Mickey and Sara,” said Raven.
“How do you know?” I asked.
“Because everyone else would have barged right in. This is the only doorbell we’ll hear,” predicted Raven.
Raven was right. Mickey had butched it up from her usual work garb, which, though she always wore slacks, weren’t exactly trousers. Today she was in definite knife-creased trousers, a good button down shirt and a loosened tie. Sara wore her usual girly dress. They were very sweet together. They didn’t know where their connection was headed any more than we did. They’d brought some lovely wine.
Raven was also right about her guys. In order between ten of and ten after, we received Cord and her flavor-of-the-week girl, this one named Gabby, and she was. Then Terry with no date, but she assured me one was on her way. Then Mel on her own.
Then Ollie with her Rizzo girlfriend, Leah; and Sam with Julia—I was especially attentive to these two femmes as they were going to be part of my posse, the Femme Force. Dex arrived with a glasses-sporting femme whose IQ was brilliantly, glaringly obvious; I thoroughly enjoyed those two.
Finally came Jamie with a shy but luscious Jane who’d made an exception and eschewed her paralegal persona to wear her contacts and her luxurious hair down. Jamie was smitten with reason.
Gretchen and I swapped responsibility for seeing that the table groaned under the weight of the food. She had been right. Those guys would have eaten everything in sight. I guessed that none of them had home-cooked anything very often so this was a right treat.
The guys were easy with each other in the way of long-time friends. Drinking beer, shooting the breeze, ribbing one another, laughing like loons. Raven’s eyes followed me wherever I went.
Leah and Julia were good friends, and after observing for a while, invited me in to their small circle of permanence.
Julia’s opening salvo was, “Raven’s damn serious about you, girl.”
“You think?” I twinkled at her.
Leah smiled. “Yeah.”
“Me, too,” I grinned at them happily.
Leah added, “You serious?”
“Serious as a diamond ring,” I swore.
They both cracked up.
Leah said, cynically, “Of course she’d want to marry a doctor.”
“Hey,” I said, “I am a doctor; nothing special about that!”
Leah shot back immediately, “You deserve each other then.”
I cracked up.
“So, girls,” I said lowering my voice, “you know the Butch Brigade.” They gave me duh looks. “Well, we have to get organized, darlings. I’m forming the Femme Force. You in?”
They sang an instant duet. “Damn straight, we’re in. And about time!”
We three fist-bumped in femme solidarity.
“Okay, our first order of business is to help out Mel. He’s too shy, apparently, to meet someone. Who do we know?”
Leah and Julia put their heads together at once and offered three names.
“Can we call one and have her stop by today?”
“Yeah,” said Leah, “I think Kimmy would jump to go out with him. She’s been hot for him since high school.”
“Let’s do it,” I said, mentally ticking off one to-do list item. At least if it worked out.
“Gretchen,” I called, “is it okay if Leah and Julia’s friend Kimmy stops by?” Then I lowered my voice as she approached, “We’re working on setting up Mel.”
“Wonderful!” she beamed. “I’ve always thought someone ought to take on that job. Good for you, girls!” She appeared so much better. She had more color in her face, and vim in her step. I was glad even if it did happen that she had cancer. “Oh, I forgot, Verity. I think that Geoff is stopping by later, too.”
“Oh, good,” I said.
“Lady! Lady! Lady!” Lucy shrieked as the boys tossed her from one to another. I had visions of her lunch all over them. Had it been long enough?
“Gentlemen!” I thundered. “What do you think you are doing to that young lady?”
Jamie looked down, “This? This is a young lady? I thought this was a football.”
Lucy wiggled and giggled.
“Raven told me this was a football!” Jamie continued to protest. “Are you sure you’re not a football?”
Lucy laughed delightedly.
“Is she alright?” I
said to Raven.
“Yes, Mama,” said Raven, looking down at me with unreadable eyes.
I blushed. “Sorry to fuss, Papa.”
“Baby, fuss over her. Please. She needs it.” She wrapped me in her arms. “So do I.”
I snuggled close, subtly arching my hips into hers, which made her growl and drop her mouth to bite the nape of my neck. “Barbarian,” I said under my breath.
“Ma’am,” she acknowledged.
I spoke to Jamie, “Um, can I call a time out? I need to speak with your football, please.”
Lucy ran and threw her arms around my neck. “Lady!”
“Lucy!” I lifted her. “Are you having fun? Is your tummy okay?”
“Yes and yes.” Then she fake-whispered, “They know I’m not a football.”
“You think?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m a girl.” Full beat. “Like you.” Full beat. “Even if Papa treats me like a boy sometimes.”
“I see,” I said, seeing exactly. Raven treated Lucy the way that her papa treated her, but Lucy, at age three, knew the difference. “Okay then, football, off you go, into the game!”
Raven stepped aside from the mayhem. “She’s alright, right?”
“Yes, our little girl, emphasis on girl, is alright, Papa. She doesn’t mind that you treat her like a boy sometimes.”
Raven was surprised. “Lucy said that?”
“Uh-huh,” I confirmed. “Wise child. Very wise.”
“Indeed,” mused her papa winking at me, “takes after her wicked stepmama, I’m told. Then something caught her eye. “What’s Kimmy doing here?”
“She’s come to be a date for Mel,” I said. “The first official act of The Femme Force.”
Raven’s eyes bulged out of her head, and then she threw her head back and laughed till she cried. I couldn’t tell if her reaction was good or bad.
“Milord?”
“The cheerleader who was the cause of our dancing lessons, baby?” asked Raven.
“You mean the one Mel was so wistful over?”