She Wants It Rough

by Meegan Melons

  His lips moved over hers, tasting tentatively at first. Then he pushed his tongue into her mouth pulling another shiver through her. She stroked his tongue with hers. Each stroke of his tongue sent a pulse of heat through her body.

  Moisture pooled between her legs. She squirmed closer to him. His cock was so close her pussy throbbed with need.

  He chuckled and pulled back. "If I'm going to risk losing my practice we're going to do this right. Slowly. I want to make sure the cure sticks for at least a few days."

  Heat washed over her body. She nodded, waited.

  He cupped her breasts in his large, strong hands and she sighed. Closed her eyes and leaned her head back. He flicked her nipples pulling them into hard peaks of desire.

  Then she felt him move, sensed his head lowering to her breast. The clasp of his hot mouth over her sensitive peak pulled a groan from deep inside her body. He suckled hard forcing jolts of electricity through her body.

  Her pussy pulsed with the rhythm of his sucking. She gripped the side of the exam table and arched into him, urging him silently to suck harder. He did. He pulled the nipple between his teeth, grazing the flesh lightly then he sucked hard.

  She reached down to grab his cock. He moved a little closer to give her better access. She circled her hand around his shaft, slowly tightened her grip and tugged forward. He groaned into her breast and she smiled.

  With each tug of his cock his suckling on her breast got faster, more insistent. She pulled harder on his length. He sucked harder on her breast.

  Her pussy ached with need. This was not enough for her. She needed to feel him inside her. Thrusting deep and fast into her willing core.

  "Dr. Miller, please fuck me. Please."

  He pulled away from her breast. "Patience, Jenna." She opened her eyes and saw the grin on his face.

  He pulled over the step stool that shorter patients used to hop up on the exam table. He knelt in front of her and she thought she would explode. He positioned his head between her legs, parted her folds with deft fingers then flicked his tongue over her clit.

  She moaned, sucking in a breath. She leaned her head back again, eyes closed, to focus on the sensation of his tongue making circles around her sensitive nub. He flicked slow then fast causing ripples of sensation to race through her body.

  When she moaned again he slipped a finger into her pussy. She sighed.

  "You are so wet, Jenna. I love that. But I'm not ready to take you yet. How much do you want me?”

  "So bad. Please fill me. Fuck me."

  He stood and went to the counter with all the instruments and (other things). He opened a drawer. She leaned to the right to see what he was getting. He pulled out some lubricant and a condom.

  Excitement raced through her. She didn't know what the lubricant was for since she was plenty wet already but the condom meant he would be fucking her soon.

  "I want you to come off the table, stand on the stool here and lean over the exam table."

  A delicious slice of panic chased through her body. No matter what he asked her to do she would do if it meant him filling her with that hard cock.

  She jumped down and leaned over the table waiting for him. She would prefer to see him as he fucked her but it wasn't mandatory as long as he took her.

  The first splash of lubricant on her ass made her jump. He rubbed the liquid in the crack between her ass cheeks, rubbing circles around her tight hole. Fresh panic took hold but she didn't want to stop him. She needed this. He pushed a finger slowly into her ass and she sucked in a breath.

  "Try to relax. It will feel amazing if you relax."

  She nodded, let her body on the table go limp. Thoughts of him driving into her helped her relax a little. He pushed his finger in a little deeper, pulled it out then pushed it back in again.

  He slipped a second finger in waiting until she relaxed again enough to push in deeper. When she was relaxed enough he pumped both fingers in and out of her in a slow rhythm.

  "How does that feel?"

  "Amazing. But I want more than your fingers."

  He pulled his fingers out and picked up the condom wrapper. She heard him open the packet and put the sheath on his cock. He grabbed her ass with both hands, parting her cheeks to expose her tight puckered hole.

  The tip of his cock pressing against her caused a shiver to go through her body. She felt the cool lubricant of the condom.

  "Remember what I said. Relax."

  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and relaxed her muscles. His cock pushed into her slowly. He inched in letting her get used to him before pushing in deeper.

  A flutter started in her stomach when he began pumping faster in and out of her. His groans brought a smile to her face. She mangled the protective tissue paper covering the table as he drove into her.

  She whimpered and moaned absently wondering if the rooms were sound proof. If they weren't some other patients were getting a nice (sound experience).

  He thrust into her ass faster and faster. Her pussy still ached to be filled but it pulsed with the stirrings of an orgasm. A few thrusts would push her over the edge she was sure. Her breasts, crushed into the table, felt heavy, aching.

  After a few more thrusts he pulled out of her with a loud groan. Her lower body pulsed, quivered, ached. She felt like a starving woman who had been given a morsel of food only to have the feast taken away.

  "Hop back up on the table and scoot down until your feet are in the stirrups."

  Barely able to move she hopped up on the exam table and did as he asked. When her feet hit the cool metal of the stirrups her legs naturally fell open. He walked down to the end of the table.

  She leaned up so she could see him. His body was covered in a light sheen of sweat. He ripped off the condom and threw it in a waste basket.

  He pushed the stirrups farther apart, walked in between her legs. He hit a button to lower the table slightly until it was the perfect height for his cock to drive into her.

  A shiver raced through her body. Her pussy still ached to be filled. She fought the urge to plunge her hands between her legs to rub her clitoris. His moved closer until his cock touched her nether lips. She sucked in a breath. Waited. He inched into her pussy as slowly as he had her ass.

  She wanted to take her legs out of the stirrups and wrap them around his waist pulling him in deep. But she didn't. She waited.

  "Dr. Miller, please. I ache so much. Your cock is the only thing that can help me."

  He plunged balls deep into her. She arched off the table and let out an contented sigh that ended in a low moan. He drove into her hard and fast, going as deep as he could.

  His balls slapped against her ass. She arched off the table with each thrust to pull him deeper. He gripped her around the waist to hold her in place as he plunged into her.

  She shook her head back and forth on the bed the ecstasy almost too much to handle. The sensation of being filled made her feel complete. Content. She cupped her breasts flicking her nipples as he plunged into her.

  The sensations coursing through her body pulled another moan from her. A flutter in her stomach moved lower and became a tingle in her pussy. Her clit pulsed. Her thighs quivered. He thrust faster and faster into her hot wet core.

  After a few more hard, deep thrusts her orgasm crashed through her body on a low groan. Spasms wracked her body. Her thighs twitched as he continued to pump into her. Her pussy contracted around his cock until he finally groaned his own release.

  His faced tensed. Semen splashed against her walls. He kept pumping into her until her pussy had milked every last ounce from him. He pulled out and she felt semen dripping between her legs.

  He walked over to the counter and grabbed some paper towels. He cleaned off his shaft then walked over with some fresh paper towels to wipe their juices away from her pussy. His hands rubbing over her caused the pulses in her clit to increase.

  More spasms chased after each other. Her legs twitched again.

  "H
ow's your sickness now, Jenna?"

  She pulled her legs out of the stirrups and struggled to sit up on the exam table. "That was amazing and I feel much better but I think I might need help every week."

  A grin spread across his face. He pulled his clothes back on, tossing her clothes to her so she could do the same. When he was finally dressed again all the way down to his lab coat he regarded her, lust filling his eyes.

  "As a doctor it's my duty to do what I can to help you overcome sickness."

  "So I'll see you next week then. And maybe we should talk about a recommendation for birth control. I'm not on any, and maybe considering my condition, I should be."

  He grinned again and pulled out his prescription pad. She didn't care what he recommended as long as she could still fuck him whenever she made an appointment. He scribbled something on the pad and hand the paper to her.

  "This one should work well for you. Make an appointment with the receptionist on your way out. See you next week."

  She jumped off the table and hurried to the front desk. At least now she wouldn't have to pretend to be sick anymore. At least not for him. The receptionist would end up thinking she was the most ill of all his patients. But Jenna didn't care.

  Fully Stuffed

  I don’t even want to be a sorority girl. I could never imagine myself as one of those prissy bitches, strutting around campus with a designer bag paid for by Daddy’s trust fund.

  I’ve got too many curves, for one thing. It’s not like I’d ever fit into any of those high fashion brands for super skinny chicks. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I liked what I was wearing.

  And they’re always so damn perky. That fake kind of nice, where they pretend to like you then talk all kinds of crap about you behind your back.

  They can go and on about the most mundane shit, totally content with endless conversation about the most recent gossip. It’s nauseating. I never cared about any of that. I’m way too focused on my studies right now to waste my time with that stuff.

  But here I am, on my way to interview with Triple Pi. You could say I’ve lost all sense of self-respect—except, I’m not doing it for me.

  The truth is I’m doing it because of Brent—because he asked me to.

  But then, I’d have my legs spread eagle faster than he could say, “Can I fuck you?” if he ever did. Not that he would, I’m just saying.

  And that’s because Brent is the man I want to marry one day. I mean, we only just met, but I really hope we do.

  He’s actually the first and only guy who has talked to me since I moved into the dorms last week. I wish it were because he wanted to, but really it’s just that he had to. Brent is the dorm supervisor, so he was the one to show me around when I first got there.

  And when I first saw him, it was an instant crush. Like getting hit with a sledgehammer. I couldn’t even form words when he introduced himself. Like I forgot how to speak English all of a sudden.

  He extended his hand and his gaze held me in a state of suspension. I couldn’t believe those eyes; dark hazel swimming around pupils that bore through to my soul.

  “I’m Brent,” he said.

  “I’m—hello, you—I mean, I’m Brent—no, I am Kat.”

  “Hi Kat,” he said with a genuine smile, showing his perfect teeth. It sure looked genuine, anyway.

  His presence was dominating. Standing there in the tiny dorm hallway, he could have been a giant. His massive bicep flexed ever so slightly at the extension of his arm, leading up to broad shoulders so wide he barely fit between the narrow walls. His white V-neck shirt was tight against the muscle mounds of his torso. I’d never felt so much wetness between my legs.

  My thoughts were lost in a fog. Basic motor functions were foreign to me.

  He held his hand there for a long time, then looked puzzled as to why I hadn’t shaken it yet. He shrugged and retreated the hand to brush back a thread of black hair. It was s smooth, fluid motion that escaped the awkwardness of the moment. Unlike me.

  “How do you like your room?” He said. My room? It was a total mess of unpacked boxes and still is. There’s no hot water and it’s smaller than an office cubicle. A complete shitwreck.

  “I—I really like it,” I said, still staring at him. I must have looked like a complete psycho. I hadn’t even showered or brushed my hair that morning. Of course, I wasn’t exactly expecting I’d meet the man of my dreams.

  “Really? A lot of people get pissed about getting stuck in the West building.”

  “Do—do they?”

  “Yeah, it’s in serious need of a renovation. Place it totally falling apart.”

  “Oh I guess it is—does,” I say, followed by an awkward giggle. My weight shifts to one leg. I couldn’t believe how flustered I was in front of Brent. It’s like I was suddenly back in high school, giddy and crushing hard on a guy I just met.

  “So, have you looked over the dorm rules yet?” About twenty times already. They’re plastered on pretty much every surface area of the entire building.

  “Just once or twice—a couple times—I think.”

  “Good,” he flashes another cool smile, his eyes glinting in the dim light, “just remember no visitors after nine. Come on, let me show you around.”

  And so the rest of the tour continued in this fashion; me staring at him like a lunatic, blubbering incoherently each time I spoke. I found myself mesmerized by every word, every syllable from his mouth about dorm policy and how the toilets tend to clog.

  Actually, I wasn’t paying much attention to what he was saying.

  And so it hit me like a ton of bricks when he asked me, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

  I think my throat hit the floor when he said it.

  Was he asking me out? Like, on a date? My cheeks went flush—I forgot how to breathe.

  “Because I’m supposed to tell girls in the West building about joining Triple Pi.” Oh, I guess not. I exhaled a long disappointed sigh and he sort of looked at me funny, then continued. “They like to meet freshmen to find out if they’d be a good fit for their sorority.”

  I can’t believe I even let myself think for a moment that he was interested in me. I felt like such an idiot.

  But then my eyes lit up at what he said next.

  “I’ll be there.”

  I think my head would have fallen off if I nodded any faster. I made an affirmative squeak that sounded like my lungs had given out. My face was glowing neon red by that point.

  “Okay then. Tonight at eight.” His arm came out halfway for a handshake then paused. He studied me for a brief second, then brought the hand back to his side. “Well… see you then.”

  Then he turned opposite from me and went on down the hallway. I just stood there, frozen in place for a good minute or two. My knees were all jittery and barely supported my weight. The heat between my legs was slick with desire for Brent. My pussy throbbed and ached with a new kind of passion.

  I don’t know what the heck a male would be doing at sorority house, but I sure as hell know that I don’t care. All that matters is that Brent is going to be there.

  ******

  I crane my neck to read the Greek letters above the big white sorority house, whispering them aloud. “Triple Pi.” It sounds exactly like the kind of club I swore I’d never belong to when I went to college.

  But none of that matters now, because Brent is inside.

  I gather my courage and step along the narrow brick pathway lined on either side with purple poppies. It’s obvious they had the money to pay for a professional landscaper.

  My black heels click on the brick tiles leading up to the steps of the porch, and I can’t help feeling self-conscious.

  I had on my favorite white blouse and a black skirt that I thought made my ass look pretty hot. Thankfully my hair was cooperative after about an hour of curling and primping, and fell elegantly over my shoulders. I was feeling pretty confident in front of the mirror before I left, but my self-esteem has compl
etely betrayed me at this point.

  The truth is I really don’t care so much about making an impression on the sorority girls as I do Brent.

  As I approach the double doors of the house, one of the ornate brass handles turns on its own.

  The door cracks open and a petite head comes out of it. She’s got pigtails tied with red and white polka dot ribbons and thick-framed glasses. A lot more bookish than I was expecting. Certainly not the fashionista I thought would greet me.

  “Oh—it’s you,” she says, looking me up and down. Her eyes are dismissive, her expression standoffish. She glares at my blouse like I’ve committed some sort of fashion sin. “Come on, Madeline is waiting for you.” Her attention remains fixed on my cleavage as her head retreats back through the crack. I don’t think she looked at my face even once. What a bitch.