The Dean pressed a second finger inside Sophie’s sex, causing her to writhe in pleasure at the increased sense of fullness. He steadily pumped his fingers in and out, increasing the pressure with each stroke. He caressed Sophie inside until she was crazed with want. Begging him to finally touch the spot she needed him the most. Finally, after what seemed like endless torture, he moved his fingers, slippery with her wetness, to the tight bundle of nerves at her very center.
Sophie gasped out loud in pleasure as she stroked herself there. She imagined the Dean’s fingers rubbing her clit slowly, then faster and harder, then faster, then slowly again. Sophie stroked in time to her fantasy, feeling the pressure building deep inside of her. She used her free hand to suppress her scream of ecstasy. He caressed her tight bud with gentle touches, increasing to strong lashes. Sophie felt his tongue inside of her. She panted in exertion, riding her fingers. Sophie felt herself getting closer and closer to going over the edge. She increased her rhythm.
The Dean began moving his hand faster, rubbing circles around Sophie’s clitoris and driving her higher and higher. He did it again. And again. Sophie cried out. She felt her peak crash into her, as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her. Sophie rode it out until it receded gently away, and little by little her breathing slowed and her heart rate lowered. Sophie stretched her arms up and breathed in deeply. She was finally relaxed.
“That should take the edge off,” Sophie thought contentedly. She snuggled into her covers and closed her eyes. Sophie was sound asleep in minutes.
Chapter Four
Sophie stood up from the desk in the resident break room and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. She was currently assigned to the emergency room and the shifts were physically and mentally grueling. The flickering fluorescent lights made her stress headache worse. Sophie took a deep breath and did a couple yoga stretches to ease the tension in her shoulders and back. She glanced down at her wrinkled scrubs. If she was going to do this, she needed to change. Sophie couldn’t meet the Dean looking like she rolled out of bed. Thankfully, Sophie kept street clothes in her locker at the hospital.
After a quick shower, Sophie changed into a white tank top, loose short skirt, and flat sandals. She briefly wondered if she should wear something more professional, but Sophie knew if she went home to change she might lose her nerve. Anyway, she knew her outfit showed off her figure to its best advantage. Looking as appealing as possible couldn’t hurt her case with the Dean.
Sophie walked over to the lone mirror in the room and wiped away the steam with her hand. She took a critical look at her face. The physical signs of her stress and fatigue were showing. Sophie banished the purple shadows under her eyes with a couple swipes of illuminating concealer. Blush on her high cheekbones added color back to her normally golden complexion. Sophie lightly lined her almond shaped green eyes, applied mascara to her dark lashes, and finished off with a cherry colored lip balm before grabbing her bag and heading out to the parking garage.
She hopped in her car and pulled up a map application on her smartphone. Last night Sophie was more concerned with following the Dean’s car rather than the precise route to his home. With a deep breath, Sophie started her car and pulled out of the D-1 parking garage. This was it. She was committed.
****
It was almost midnight by the time Cole pulled into his driveway. He had spent the evening playing mediator between the Chair of Transplant Services and the Chair of General Surgery. They were in a drawn out battle over which service took precedence when it came to operating room time. The Transplant Services Chair argued that his surgeons should be able to bump planned procedures since transplants were time sensitive. The General Surgery Chair argued scheduled operating room time should be protected, otherwise patient care was jeopardized. The two blowhards argued for four hours. Cole interjected when the debate became too heated, but otherwise observed the proceedings and tried to recall why he decided to get into hospital administration.
At forty-two Cole was in the prime of his career. At forty, he had made the life-altering decision to give up his bustling practice as an Orthopaedic Spine Surgeon in Chicago in order to become the youngest Dean of Medicine in the history of the University of Seattle. Cole continued to perform surgery, but now he had the luxury of handpicking his cases.
When he became Dean, Cole naively thought he could ride into the University like a gunslinger. He imagined himself mowing down enemies, taking no prisoners, and making sweeping changes in a matter of months. Now, after a year and a half on the job, Cole understood barriers existed to making system-wide changes. He still believed the University of Seattle could become the premier medical institution in the country, but getting there would be a marathon not a sprint. Cole needed to play the politician, listen to complaints, and form alliances with the leadership on the faculty council. He had to do this knowing there was a big bulls eye on his back. Those without power were always looking to take those with power down. But, truthfully, Cole loved the game. He relished control and authority. It was good to be Dean.
Cole grabbed his leather briefcase and hopped out of his dark red Porsche Carrera. He looked up at his house in the darkness. It was a mid-century modern ranch-style home, lovingly restored by its previous owners. Cole bought the house for both its clean lines and sweeping views of Lake Washington. He was drawn to Seattle, in part, because of its proximity to the Sound and major lakes as well as the plethora of outdoor activities in the area, and the house fit his lifestyle perfectly.
Cole was walking up to his front door when he noticed another car in his circular driveway. Cole assessed the vehicle and was more curious than alarmed. The old Ford definitely wasn’t one of Brandy’s vehicles. Brandy was Cole’s ex-girlfriend; a vapid, yet steamy Eastside socialite whom Cole had broke up with a month ago after she started dropping marriage hints. Brandy had not taken it well. Cole hadn’t heard a peep from her until she showed up last night on his doorstep intending to seduce him back into her bed.
Thankfully, Cole didn’t have to wait long for his curiosity about the strange car in his driveway to be satisfied. A moment later, a woman opened the driver’s side door and got out. As the person walked towards him and into the moonlight, he immediately recognized his late night visitor. He felt a pulse of surprise and unexpected arousal.
“Dr. Benedict,” he said in greeting, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
She stopped a few feet away from him. Sophie’s posture was erect and confident, but her wringing hands gave away her nervousness.
“Dean Armstrong, I need to discuss an important matter with you,” she said.
“The normal way to set up a meeting with me is to contact my secretary, Ms. Briar,” He replied tersely. “Not show up at my house at midnight.”
“I tried that,” she said. “I’ve been trying to set up a meeting with you for the past week. I even sat outside your office, waiting for a 5-minute window or to catch you on your way to lunch. You are an impossible man to see. Your secretary told me you are booked until late September. Unfortunately, I don’t have that long.”
Cole watched Sophie silently for a moment. Sophie’s skirt and tank top displayed her tan, lean body perfectly. He usually only saw her in shapeless scrubs. The only other time Cole saw Sophie in street clothes was at the First Year Resident Retreat. He dropped by to do a meet and greet and offer the residents an introductory rock climbing course during their scheduled recreation time.
He found the female residents who purposely fumbled with their equipment to gain his attention and assistance annoying. Cole recalled Sophie struggling with her harness, face flushed with exertion, and assumed she was playing the game too. However, after a minute, he realized she truly needed help but was too stubborn to ask for it. Cole walked over and assisted Sophie with her thigh and waist straps. Having his hand high on her black spandex-covered inner thigh was torture, since Cole knew he couldn’t act on his sudden urge to caress higher. He had accidently
brushed her breasts when tightening Sophie’s waist strap and noticed Sophie’s nipples tighten under her miniscule bra top. Cole remembered his mouth watering with the desire to taste them.
Sophie was lithe, strong, and curved in all the right places. In Cole’s opinion, she had a body made for fucking. Keeping his touch impersonal was a lesson in restraint, especially when she needed a boost up to the first hold during their rock climbing instruction. He knew sleeping with a resident could be a career killer for a senior faculty member, and since he was now a Dean his behavior needed to be above board. However, the thought of Sophie strapped into a harness in her tight yoga pants and low cut workout tank still made him hard.
In the present time, Cole gave in to temptation and let his gaze wander up and down Sophie’s body. He noticed Sophie’s nipples were hard. Cole wondered if it was from the cold or his blatant perusal.
Cole’s gaze made its way to Sophie’s eyes. In them, he saw a mixture of anxiety and wary interest. “This may turn out to be a very interesting night,” Cole thought. Out loud he said, “If the issue at hand is that important to you Dr. Benedict, I can spare a few moments of my time. Please, follow me.”
Sophie followed Cole up the driveway. She waited patiently as he opened his front door, set his keys on the entry table, and placed his bag on the floor. Cole looked back at her briefly, to make sure she was following him, before making his way down the hall to his office.
Cole’s office was a distinctly modern and masculine space. The room was dominated by a mid-century style walnut desk, modernized with aged steel legs. In front of the desk were two black leather and wood Scandinavian style chairs. Pushed against a dark gray wall was a tufted camel-colored leather loveseat. The opposite wall was taken up by floor to ceiling windows, looking out over the lake.
Cole walked to the sideboard. He took out two crystal tumblers and poured a finger of scotch in each.
“Please, have a seat,” he said to Sophie, who stood awkwardly by the door. She sat in one of the leather chairs. Cole sat in the other, positioning it so they were face to face, their knees a mere foot apart. Cole handed her one of the glasses of scotch. “Now tell me what brings you to my home.”
****
Sophie stared at the amber liquid in her glass before taking a fortifying sip. She was ecstatic. Her initial plan to breach the Dean’s home worked. Now she needed to come up with something to say. Sophie was desperate. She would do anything to stay in her residency program. Sophie knew she needed to make a compelling argument as to why she deserved to remain at the University of Seattle.
Meeting with the Dean in his home felt incredibly intimate. Sophie’s hands were sweating from nerves and her embarrassing attraction to him. Only last night she had brought herself to orgasm imagining the Dean touching her body. Just moments earlier in Cole’s driveway, Sophie felt his slow perusal of her like a physical caress. Her arousal from the previous evening flared back to life. Sophie flushed. Her cheeks felt hot, and Sophie knew they were probably bright red. Sophie thought the Dean would laugh if he knew about her schoolgirl crush on him. Over the past year and a half, their relationship had been nothing but professional and impersonal.
Sophie shook her head, trying to clear the fog of arousal. She came here for a reason. Sophie clenched her thighs together, willing her arousal away, and took another sip of scotch.
“Dean Armstrong,” she began.
“Cole,” he said, interrupting.
“Excuse me?”
“Please, call me Cole.”
“Cole,” Sophie said slowly, letting his name linger on her tongue. “I hope you forgive my intrusion tonight. I needed to speak with you by the end of the weekend, and as I explained, I was unable to secure a meeting with you using conventional methods.”
The Dean nodded, and Sophie continued. “Dr. Mapleton who, as you know, is the Director of the General Internal Medicine Residency program, has terminated my residency effective the close of business on Monday. He has not given me any firm justification as to why, nor has he responded to any of my messages asking him to reconsider. I only have six months left in my residency. If I’m forced to transfer into another program I’ll likely have to start from scratch. That’s if I’m accepted into another one. Being terminated from the prestigious University of Seattle’s program will be a black mark on my resume.”
“What would you like me to do about all this?” Cole asked.
Sophie took a deep breath.
“From what I understand, the person with the ultimate authority to terminate a resident’s appointment is the Dean. You have to sign off on all dismissals.”
“Yes, that’s correct,” Cole, said.
“Therefore, I am asking you to reconsider my termination. If you ask any of my faculty advisors, they will tell you I have been an exemplary student. They have found no fault in my patient care.” Sophie reached into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. She handed it to Cole. “You’ll find their names and personal contact information on this sheet. My advisors attempted to petition Dr. Mapleton on my behalf, but he refuses to meet with them.”
Cole watched her silently. Consideringly. Sophie fidgeted under his perusal. When she couldn’t sit quietly any longer, Sophie said, “I’ll do anything Cole. I’m desperate. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”
Cole took his gaze from her and looked down at the paper Sophie handed him. Her list of champions included several well respected senior faculty members, including Dr. Evelyn Feldstein. She was one of Cole’s favorite doctors on the medical staff.
While he considered the situation, Cole polished off his scotch. He tilted his glass at Sophie, silently asking if she would like another. She emptied her glass as well and handed it to him. Sophie needed another drink. The alcohol was making her feel more relaxed and less stressed. She also appreciated the “liquid courage.” Sophie watched Cole, appreciatively, as he walked to the sideboard and poured them another scotch.
“Your termination packet actually came across my desk on Friday. I’m still in the process of reviewing it,” Cole said, his back still towards her. “From what I understand, you were placed on probation three months ago.”
“I was caught moonlighting,” Sophie replied. “I worked in an urgent care clinic on Bainbridge Island. I needed the money.”
“When you took the position, were you aware moonlighting is forbidden in your program?”
“Yes, I did and I’m sorry I broke the rules. I accepted Dr. Mapleton’s disciplinary action without appeal, and have not moonlighted since.”
Cole walked over to Sophie and handed her a scotch before sitting down on the edge of his seat, scooting his chair closer to her. Cole leaned his elbows on his knees and looked directly into Sophie’s eyes.
“It’s unfortunate you broke the rules, however I don’t think that is the reason why Dr. Mapleton is requesting you be terminated from the residency program.”
“Then, why?” Sophie asked. If Cole had any insight on the situation, she’d be glad to hear it. Sophie had no clue why she was unceremoniously booted from the program.
“I think it’s because of me,” he said bluntly.
****
Cole finally gave in to the urge to touch Sophie, placing a hand on her soft knee. Sophie glanced at his hand and then up at him with look of confused interest. He knew the physical contact was out of left field given their previous interactions, but Cole couldn’t help himself.
He caressed the soft skin near her knee, watching goosebumps rise on her slim thighs. Cole nudged her knees apart and ran a finger up the inside of her leg. He could see her lacy peach panties and a telling dampness. It gave him permission to caress her thighs more thoroughly, allowing his fingers to breach the hem of her skirt. The only sound in the room was their increasingly labored breathing.
Cole tamped down the desire to continue his exploration, knowing he owed Sophie an explanation before this went any further. He raised his eyes from her thighs to her face. She looked
dazed. Her glittery eyes, slightly parted lips, and pink tinge on her cheekbones revealed her arousal. Good.
Sophie was aching. Between her legs. Her breasts. She felt swollen with anticipation. Wet. Sophie couldn’t believe she finally had Cole’s hands on her, just like she imagined last night. She wanted his hands between her legs, stroking her moist folds. Her clit. She wanted to touch him. To kiss Cole and suck his tongue. Sophie felt drunk with arousal.
Cole cleared his throat, getting her attention.
“When Dr. Mapleton told me about you moonlighting and his intended punishment, I vehemently argued against your probation. Typically, residents are given a warning in such cases. If they cease working outside of the hospital, no other measures are taken against them. It’s a common occurrence and response.”
“Then why did Dr. Mapleton want me to go on probation?”
“Honestly, I don’t think he cares for you although I’m not sure why. Also, the more I threw my support behind you the more adamant Dr. Mapleton became about putting you on probation. He even mentioned the possibility of kicking you out of the program, citing some vague improprieties. I eventually deferred to him, as he is the Residency Director, but I think my arguments put a target on your back.”
The Pleasure of the Dean Page 2
