Waiting to see the doctor always sucks. It's universal. No doctor is
ever, ever on time, and so you're always reduced to reading one of the ancient magazines left in their waiting room, staring at the wall, trying to avoid being sneezed or coughed on by the other less considerate patients, and in general trying to pass the time without going out of your head. Then when you finally get called for your appointment, thirty minutes late, you get taken back to the tiny waiting room and then spend another half hour cooling your heels while you wait for the doctor to make his appearance.
Yes, it truly sucks. So it was no surprise at all to me that when I accompanied you for your yearly checkup that you were casting about for something to do while we waited, and of course your mind went where it always does. And of course mine was right there with you. We make a good pair, we do.
Your fingers dance over your smartphone's keyboard, and *bzzt* goes my own phone. I pull it out, and my eyes widen just a little bit:
F: I'm not wearing any panties. Just so you know.
I breathe deep and cast you a furtive glance. You're already grinning, not even bothering to hide it. I Swype out a reply and a few seconds later your own phone vibrates. I notice you are holding it a little closer to your crotch than most people do, and that your eyelashes fluttered just a bit when it went off.
M: Ah, good! Then it seems we had the same idea this morning. Neither am I.
Now it's your eyes that widen, trailing down my body to the ridge rising in my jeans. The outline is very pronounced, but of course you can't resist feeling for yourself, placing a hand on my thigh in mock sympathy, asking me in your public voice if I'm sure I'm feeling okay, "accidentally" brushing lingeringly against the ridge in my jeans. Your solicitous chatter covers my indrawn breath; how thoughtful of you.
My phone buzzes again. When did you have time to type another message?
F: Ooooo. Nice and hard for me already. Tell me, baby, what are you going to do with that big hard cock?
My hands shake and three times I miskey my response. Finally your phone buzzes with my response
:
M: Oh, I don't know. Thought I might, for example, slide it deep into your hot, wet pussy. Since, you know, it's bound to be wet by now. I know how naughty you are.
You shift in your seat, crossing and uncrossing your legs. Now it's my turn to ask if you're feeling okay. A few seconds, and my phone vibrates:
F: Of course. Your naughty girl. But you like me that way, don't you? You like it when I get so turned on telling you what I'm going to do to you. You like your girl all hot and wet and ready for you.
Now we're both breathing fast. The others in the room are giving us concerned looks, wondering if we might have the flu. Both of us are flushed, beads of sweat forming on our foreheads. Your phone buzzes:
M: I do like it. In fact I love it. I love the way you are instantly ready to go. I love the way all I have to do is whisper in your ear and you're dripping for me. It makes it so much easier for me to slide a couple fingers in. Or, for example, something bigger.
You lick your lips and give me a sultry look from under those lashes. Your fingers dance over the keyboard again. My phone:
F: Bigger? Why, whatever do you mean, lover?
Your phone buzzes with my response, but before you can pull it up, the receptionist calls your name. On shaky legs you stand, and I'm right there, arm around your waist, to support you, my hand "accidentally" squeezing your ass on the way by.
We're ushered back into the waiting room. The PA takes your blood pressure and temperature and then tells you to strip down to your underwear and put on the gown. "The doctor will be with you in a few minutes," she says, and then leaves.
The click of the door closing is as loud as a gunshot. We look at each other, the hunger in our gazes almost palpable.
It's you that makes the first move, stepping away from me. You pull your dress up and over your head, slowly, sensuously, with a little wriggle that accentuates your curves. I drink in the sight of that gorgeous body, reaching out a hand to stroke your thigh. A small slap brings me back. "Nuh-uh", you say sharply. "No touching. The doctor will be here in a few minutes, remember?" You pull the gown on and begin tying it, but your hands fumble with the knots and it's obvious to me that your mind is still elsewhere.
I step close and put my hands on your waist. "Wait," you say, weakly, "the doctor." "Yes," I murmur, drawing the S out and out. "The doctor. But he'll be running late. They always do." I slide my hands inside the gown -- not hard to do -- and run them along your stomach, down to your thighs.
Suddenly I realize I'm feeling cotton there. What? Was I so stunned by watching you undress that I missed something that obvious? I hook a finger inside the waistband: yup, panties. "I thought you said you weren't wearing any!" You look back over your shoulder with that gamin grin. "I lied," you say simply. "I might need to be spanked."
Maybe another time. The very fact that you want the spanking immediately makes me decide not to give you one. Instead I just hook my fingers into that waistband and pull, yanking those panties down to your ankles. "No!" you gasp. "We can't....no time, we'll......get.......caught." The pauses between words are punctuated with sighs; my hands are still active, now cupping the globes of your ass, now roaming around in front. I slip a finger down to those plump lips and find you wet, so wet, ready and raring to go. "Naughty, naughty girl," I murmur reprovingly. "Mustn't disobey me like that. When I want my girl, I take her. You know this by now."
"Yes," you murmur, sighing, leaning back into me, wiggling your ass against me, rubbing yourself against the front of my jeans. "Don't want to get caught, but I.....oh god." You moan as I slip three fingers into your wet pussy. "I......oh. I don't.....ohh! Unhh!!! I don't care any more. Please......"
"Please what?" I tease, rubbing a thumb over your clit. "Does my girl need to be fucked now? Does she need my cock after all?"
"Oh yes," you moan, and punctuate it with a shiver so violent it almost flings the gown, already precariously tied, off your body completely. "Do me now. Do me any way you like. But
hurry!"
With three quick movements my zipper is down and my jeans are down to my knees. My cock springs free immediately -- unlike you, I
wasn't lying about not wearing any underwear -- and it throbs angrily in the cool air. I sit down hard on the doctor's stool and spin you around to face me. Your feet tangle in the sodden mass of your panties; I help you get one foot free but the other shoe binds up and they stay hooked around that foot. Neither of us cares. I draw you closer, spreading your legs with one hand. You straddle me, reaching for my cock, pointing me the right way. I look up at you, hair hanging in your face, lips puffy with lust, and I think again that you are
so. very. fucking. hot when you are really needing to get fucked.
Then everything disappears in a rising tide of pleasure as you impale yourself on me, hard. You aren't just wet; you are utterly soaked, and it's a good thing, because you rock me deep inside you with one thrust and immediately you're shaking, gasping, bouncing up and down on me. My hands lift and drop you, fondling your ass, squeezing. I'm so hard. So hot. Aching for you. Your cunt clutches at me eagerly, welcoming the invasion. I am gripped by velvet.
Moaning. Both of us are moaning now, quietly, but getting louder. I've never felt so hot, so out of control. I want this godlike pleasure to last and last but the minutes are ticking by and we need to get off and get you off me before the doctor comes in. I thrust harder; you pull me deeper into you. I lift you higher and drop you faster; you lean forward and bite my shoulder to stifle your cries. I lunge to my feet, supporting you on that bar of flesh still sunk so deeply inside you; you wrap your legs around my ass, hook your arms around my neck, and capture my mouth for a violent tongue duel. I slam you none too gently against the wall, trapping you there, helpless to resist my pounding. Thrusting, up and in, in, into that hot wetness, into the glorious ecstasy that is your cunt, in, into you. "Harder," you moan, "deeper," and "yes, baby, yes," I answer you, suiting word to deed. Bottoming out in your hot pussy, my legs straining as I shove myself deep inside you, shaking with need.
"Oh god," I moan, voice cracking, "I'm gonna," and "yes, oh yes, do it, fill me," you cry. Your eyes are wild, lost, swept away. They lock with mine, the electricity arcing between us. The lust sears, it burns. I tremble, I quake, I feel the rush, feel you clamp me even harder. Your mouth opens wide, captures mine again, and we scream at the top of our lungs into each others' mouths when I empty my balls deep inside you. Your heels dig into my ass, your thighs tighten around me. You bite my tongue and then you're shaking, convulsing yourself, hips banging rhythmically against me, unable to stop yourself even if you'd wanted, coming so hard it's almost painful.
I thrust a last time, deeper still, straining to my utmost, every muscle locked.......and then slowly, slowly, return to this plane of reality. My ass unclenches, I come down off my tiptoes. You slide slowly down the wall and I put my hands on your ass to steady you. I pull back and out of you, breathing hard. Glance at the clock on the wall, and now I panic in earnest. Quickly I pull my jeans up, my wet cock rasping deliciously against the rough denim. I help you adjust the gown more decorously, and we quickly grab a handful of tissues to mop me off your thighs.
We look at each other, grinning like a pair of idiots...and then jump apart a few feet as there's a knock at the door. "Come in," you call in a rusty voice, and the doctor enters, looking down at your chart. "Well, miss........." he starts, and then falters to a stop. We both follow his gaze, and realize that we've forgotten your panties, still tangled around one of your shoes.
Both of us go bright red. The doctor merely raises an eyebrow, and closes the door behind him. "Well," he muses, matter-of-factly. "What seems to be the trouble today?"
He looks up, eyes twinkling. "Quite obviously, it isn't a problem with our sex life, hmmm?"
-- PB
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