stand still and look, that’s what they’d see: a doctor and nurse indulging in a very private conversation.
Jay takes his hand away. “Right,” he says. “Just a couple of extra symptoms to check you out for, and then I can make a diagnosis.” He brings out a tiny light, shines it in my eyes, and leans in so closely that I can feel his breath on my face. I could, if I wanted to, lean in and go for the kiss now, but despite what he’s just done I don’t know how to read him. All this doctor/patient baby talk and flirty banter might be tongue-in-cheek, but my desire is very real. His physical closeness makes my heart beat hard, and my body wants him to finish what he started when he placed his hand on my breast that time. “Interesting,” he says.
Then he places a finger on my lower lip, forces my mouth open, and says, “Say aaah .”
I giggle as I try to make the noise he’s after, but I’m so distracted by the sensations all over my body that it comes out as a prolonged “ ooooh ,” more like a sigh I’d make during sex than one I’d usually let escape from my body during a routine doctor’s examination. I bite down on Jay’s finger and close my lips around it, tasting his salty sweat.
He leaves it there, closes his eyes, and breathes deeply. I suck his finger like it’s his cock, my tongue caressing first the underside of his digit, then the end, showing just what I can do with my mouth given half a chance. When he next speaks, he’s the one with the wavering voice.
“I see dilated pupils and an increased heartbeat,” he says, half joking, half serious. Our bodies are almost touching, and I can feel the heat from his radiate toward mine. As I wonder what it would be like to press our bodies together, my pussy pumps out a hot little rhythm in reply.
“I diagnose a serious case of sexual arousal,” he says. “I’m afraid it’s terminal. There’s only one cure, and I’ll have to administer it. But before I make sure, I need to do an internal examination.”
He bends forward so that the sides of his white coat hang like curtains obscuring my body from view. We’re looking each other in the eye, locked in this moment, silently daring each other to back down. The flirty banter of earlier has given way to something raw and powerful. I know that I’m about to cross a line and that I want to.
Jay reaches between my thighs. My skirt is so short that access is unimpeded. His soft dry fingers toy with the garters, tracing the skin on my inner thighs, sliding between the stockings and my flesh, before softly drawing my panties to one side to expose my pussy. I’m fluttering with anticipation, and I can’t believe I’m letting him finger me in the middle of this party. He runs his fingertips along my labia, probes the fold between my cunt and the tops of my thighs. I spasm, then relax as he inserts a finger into me. It’s wet inside, and he swirls that finger around before drawing it out tantalizingly slowly and then pressing it gently against my clit. It’s all happening so quickly. I can’t believe I’m ready for it, but I am. He rubs the eager little bud, and my knees tremble beneath me. I stagger backward and lean on the window for support.
Jay takes a step forward but doesn’t break the rhythm of his fingers sliding in and out of my hole, around and around my clit. The cold glass of the window soothes my aching flesh, and I’m glad I’ve got something to lean on. The rushes travel along my limbs, and my cunt swells and engorges, each tiny movement he makes getting me wetter and wetter and wetter. I close my eyes. If anyone is looking, I don’t want to know, because I can’t stop something that feels this good.
Jay takes his hand away from between my legs.
“Oh, you’re definitely suffering from a severe case of nymphomania,” he says. “It’s the worst I’ve ever seen. There’s only one way to cure it, I’m afraid,” and as he talks, I see him tugging at his belt,
Jay takes his hand away. “Right,” he says. “Just a couple of extra symptoms to check you out for, and then I can make a diagnosis.” He brings out a tiny light, shines it in my eyes, and leans in so closely that I can feel his breath on my face. I could, if I wanted to, lean in and go for the kiss now, but despite what he’s just done I don’t know how to read him. All this doctor/patient baby talk and flirty banter might be tongue-in-cheek, but my desire is very real. His physical closeness makes my heart beat hard, and my body wants him to finish what he started when he placed his hand on my breast that time. “Interesting,” he says.
Then he places a finger on my lower lip, forces my mouth open, and says, “Say aaah .”
I giggle as I try to make the noise he’s after, but I’m so distracted by the sensations all over my body that it comes out as a prolonged “ ooooh ,” more like a sigh I’d make during sex than one I’d usually let escape from my body during a routine doctor’s examination. I bite down on Jay’s finger and close my lips around it, tasting his salty sweat.
He leaves it there, closes his eyes, and breathes deeply. I suck his finger like it’s his cock, my tongue caressing first the underside of his digit, then the end, showing just what I can do with my mouth given half a chance. When he next speaks, he’s the one with the wavering voice.
“I see dilated pupils and an increased heartbeat,” he says, half joking, half serious. Our bodies are almost touching, and I can feel the heat from his radiate toward mine. As I wonder what it would be like to press our bodies together, my pussy pumps out a hot little rhythm in reply.
“I diagnose a serious case of sexual arousal,” he says. “I’m afraid it’s terminal. There’s only one cure, and I’ll have to administer it. But before I make sure, I need to do an internal examination.”
He bends forward so that the sides of his white coat hang like curtains obscuring my body from view. We’re looking each other in the eye, locked in this moment, silently daring each other to back down. The flirty banter of earlier has given way to something raw and powerful. I know that I’m about to cross a line and that I want to.
Jay reaches between my thighs. My skirt is so short that access is unimpeded. His soft dry fingers toy with the garters, tracing the skin on my inner thighs, sliding between the stockings and my flesh, before softly drawing my panties to one side to expose my pussy. I’m fluttering with anticipation, and I can’t believe I’m letting him finger me in the middle of this party. He runs his fingertips along my labia, probes the fold between my cunt and the tops of my thighs. I spasm, then relax as he inserts a finger into me. It’s wet inside, and he swirls that finger around before drawing it out tantalizingly slowly and then pressing it gently against my clit. It’s all happening so quickly. I can’t believe I’m ready for it, but I am. He rubs the eager little bud, and my knees tremble beneath me. I stagger backward and lean on the window for support.
Jay takes a step forward but doesn’t break the rhythm of his fingers sliding in and out of my hole, around and around my clit. The cold glass of the window soothes my aching flesh, and I’m glad I’ve got something to lean on. The rushes travel along my limbs, and my cunt swells and engorges, each tiny movement he makes getting me wetter and wetter and wetter. I close my eyes. If anyone is looking, I don’t want to know, because I can’t stop something that feels this good.
Jay takes his hand away from between my legs.
“Oh, you’re definitely suffering from a severe case of nymphomania,” he says. “It’s the worst I’ve ever seen. There’s only one way to cure it, I’m afraid,” and as he talks, I see him tugging at his belt,
Similar Books
