Playing with Her Doctors

by S. E. Law

  She licks her lips, making me grow even harder, and then nods slightly.

  “Okay,” she says in a whisper.

  At that moment, a knock on the door sounds.

  “Dr. Stephenson,” comes a low voice. “I hear you have a new patient. May I join?”

  I grin at Bethany while bending down to press another kiss to her clit. “What do you know? Here’s Dr. Stevens is now.”

  6

  Ranger

  When I open the door, I catch Ryder in mid-kiss. Except he’s not kissing a woman’s lips. Or more precisely he is, but he’s kissing her pussy lips and not her upper lips.

  I can see why. The patient splayed before him is absolutely gorgeous. She’s exactly what we like in a woman – curvy with some real meat on her bones, with enormous, creamy breasts tipped with rose red nipples and thick thighs perfect for biting. Her legs are spread wide open and as Ryder raises his head, I see that her privates are just as beautiful as the rest of her. She’s got a pink pussy that looks moist and inviting, already swollen and dripping from Ryder’s ministrations.

  My partner has good taste, but then again, I’ve known him for twenty years, and he’s always had good taste. We met during medical school a long time ago. At first, we were rivals. It seems almost ridiculous thinking back, but it’s true. He was a good-looking guy who wanted to be top dog in our class, as did I. Our natural alpha male tendencies came to the fore, and we battled each other to get top marks. Not just that, but we were also competitive socially. We were both after the prettiest girl in the class in an effort to prevent the other from getting her, more than anything. Ridiculously stupid, looking back, but it is what it is.

  Finally, our rivalry came to a head. It wasn’t even over the prettiest girl, believe it or not. Instead, we happened to be at the same bar one night, and there was this woman. She wasn’t conventionally attractive, and if anything, she was a little on the bigger side. But she was toying with both of us. She’d talk to him for ten minutes, and then talk to me, before switching back to him. There was something about her that was magical and impossible to look away from – whether it was her charm, her smile, or the way she kept teasing us. To this day, I still think about her sometimes.

  Regardless, it reached a head when she invited us to meet her “in back.” Ryder and I stared at each other incredulously. Was this woman serious? Was she actually extending an invitation?

  We shook our heads but followed her soundlessly to the deserted alley behind the bar. There, she turned to us, slung one arm around his neck while slinging the other around mine, and whispered, “Take me. Both of you.”

  I was astonished, to be honest. Up until then, I’d had some pretty wild sexual exploits, but I’d never done a threesome, and especially not with another man. It wasn’t something I was looking to get into, to be frank. But Ryder was already unbuttoning his pants, and Sarah (I think that’s what her name was) dropped to her knees before his huge organ before smiling up at me.

  “You too, cowboy,” she said. “I like sucking two at once.”

  Without thought, my fingers undid my fly, and she gave us both amazing blowjobs. Sarah was good at it, turning from one dick to another while making such beautiful sounds with her throat, assuring us that she loved every moment of it.

  After we both came hard into her mouth, I thought it was all over, but instead the woman swallowed our cum, smacked her lips, and then stood while hitching her skirt up. She wore nothing underneath, and her pussy lips were already moist and ready.

  “Now it’s my turn,” she cooed before bending over to put her hands onto the ground, showing us her perfect pussy and ass. “I like two men at once,” she said coyly. “So be sure to take me both ways.”

  Ryder and I couldn’t move for a moment, but then we both sprang into action. We were on Sarah in a New York second, tasting her sweetness before tonguing her ass, and then pushing our dicks into each of her three holes. This all happened in a dirty New York alley, believe it or not, but the memory is still vivid in my head. It was such a mind-blowing experience, and it opened new vistas to me.

  Because after that, Ryder and I dropped our ridiculous one-upping. We realized we could do better as a team, and not only that, but we enjoyed it more as a team. We have similar tastes in women, and sometimes, the ladies feel even better when they’re being shared. After that, we sought out women as a duo, believe it or not. Of course, occasionally, one or the other of us will still go out on our own, but it doesn’t happen that often.

  Needless to say, we’re very discreet about our habits. As elite plastic surgeons practicing in New York, it’s important to be known for the right things, and those definitely don’t include tag-teaming women. We want to be known for our aesthetic judgment, for our jaw-dropping transformations, and for our medical expertise. We don’t want to be known as two guys who share partners, even if the women are totally willing and wanton.

  As a result, when I heard musical moans emanating from Exam Room 1, I knew Ryder was onto something. We don’t generally play with patients, but it happens sometimes, and judging from the rising volume of her cries, I knew it was something I wanted to get in on at the ground floor. With my cock already semi-erect, I opened the door and stepped in just in time to join in on the action.

  7

  Bethany

  The man who lets himself into the exam room is absolutely gorgeous. He’s got hair so dark it seems to absorb light, and blazing blue eyes. His face is chiseled with mobile, expressive lips and the man’s tall. Probably at least six foot three, with broad shoulders draped in a lab coat and dark slacks underneath. He shuts the door swiftly, and turns to us with a knowing smile on his face.

  “I see you’ve already got the patient prepped, Ryder,” he remarks. “Nice to meet you, Miss McLeod,” he says with another smile at me. “How are things going here? This is a vaginoplasty exploration, isn’t that right?”

  I gawk a little at him even as Dr. Stephenson presses another tender kiss to my clit. Shivers run straight through my pussy and I melt right there into his mouth.

  “Oh my,” is my breathless reply.

  “You’re right in time, Ranger,” growls Ryder. “We’re just getting started.”

  The new man moves forward and pulls a stool up right by Dr. Stephenson.

  “I’m Dr. Stevens,” the new man says by way of greeting. “I’m a partner here at Epinine Medical, and read over your chart, Ms. McLeod. You’re here for a potential vaginoplasty, isn’t that right?”

  At that moment, Ryder bites my clit playfully and all I can manage is another breathless, “Oh my,” as juices stream from my cunt. Ryder swallows them all, before gently nipping at the inside of my thigh. Oh my god he’s giving me a love bite. This is the craziest exam and yet it’s better than I ever imagined.

  Dr. Stephenson merely smiles before lightly probing my hole with his tongue again.

  “I’d like to get a second opinion with respect to her vaginal plasticity,” he says. “I’ve gone in there and it feels tight, but I could always use another professional opinion.”

  Dr. Stevens nods.

  “Let’s see,” he says in a neutral voice. “I’ll get in there and let you know.”

  Dr. Stephenson rolls his chair back, and Dr. Stevens takes his place between my thighs. His blue eyes are like lasers on my pussy, and if possible, I grow even hotter and wetter beneath his gaze.

  “She’s moist and lubed,” he remarks. “That’s good.”

  But instead of inserting a finger for the exam, he too presses a kiss to my sensitive hole.

  “Oh!” I squeal as tingles run through my cunt.

  “Mmm, we need a bit more lube,” he says. “Relax, sweetheart.”

  The doctor tongues my hole tantalizingly before circling my clit a few times, and then alternately sucking and licking at my clit.

  “Mmm,” I moan, my eyes drifting shut as my fingers go to my nipples, squeezing and pulling them. “This feels so good.”

  One of
them grunts.

  “It’ll feel even better soon, baby,” he says. “Now just hold still.”

  A finger gently presses against my sensitive opening, entering my channel. My pussy welcomes him, squeezing tight while pulsing gently against the invasion. He stirs the finger a bit, testing my wall strength.

  “No, she’s definitely quite small,” he remarks. “But maybe I better put two fingers in to check.”

  Another finger joins the first, and I melt all over his hand.

  “Oh my god!” is my squeal.

  “Open wide,” the men say. “Here, this might help.”

  With two fingers in my pussy, suddenly I feel something rubbing against my tight pleats.

  “A lot of girls relax better if they’re touched in both places at once,” comes a masculine growl. “Now relax as I stroke you, and let the good doctor do his job.”

  As I quiver and tremble beneath their dirty touches, the two fingers in my pussy begin to scissor, testing the elasticity of my vaginal channel, before stirring a bit. I moan and cry out with ecstasy, creaming so hard before these men. My thighs open wider if possible, even as the finger on my anus teasingly, tenderly caresses my back pleats.

  “That a girl,” rasps on man. “You’re doing really well.”

  “Almost over,” says the other. “We’re going to have the results soon.”

  What is he talking about? But it doesn’t matter because suddenly, orgasm overcomes me. Pulses of light shoot from my pussy to my nipples, making me shiver with need. My cunt explodes, clamping and spasming on the fingers inside me, as white lights dance before my eyes and every cell in my body goes soaring over the edge.

  “Oh!” is my breathless squeal. “Doctor!”

  I don’t know who I’m calling for. I don’t know what’s happening to me. But I do know that these two men have made me feel something I’ve never felt before. They’ve made me feel desired, which was sorely lacking in my life, and as the Heavens open before me, I’m grateful.

  8

  Bethany

  I sit in my living room, with Danny playing at my feet. My two-year-old is so cute, and he loves stacking colorful blocks before knocking them all down with a loud rattle. It makes him chortle happily, just to begin the process again.

  “Wow, he’s growing fast,” remarks Wanda, while taking a sip of her tea. “I swear, just yesterday he wasn’t even able to sit up.”

  I smile at my best friend. Wanda is dressed in one of her usual zany outfits, complete with yellow, sailor-style pants and a completely clashing polka-dotted pink top. Of course, both of these items are jarring on their own, but even more so when contrasted with her wild red curls. I love long red hair in the style of Julia Roberts, except that Wanda’s hairdo sometimes look more like a triangular red pyramid. I’ve hinted at maybe hiring a professional stylist, but Wanda always waves my suggestion away. I’m just grateful I have a real friend, so I’ve given up the extreme makeover.

  Danny ignores us, burbling happily in his corner. I sigh.

  “They do grow up fast, don’t they?” is my wistful comment.

  “You know it girl!” sings Wanda. “I swear, I love little bugaboos but I’m not ready to have one. Danny is all I need,” she says cheerfully. “I’ll just borrow him when I’m feeling maternal.”

  I laugh good-naturedly.

  “When you have your own, you’ll be introduced to a new world,” I promise. “Incredibly high highs, but also incredibly low lows when the baby won’t stop crying no matter what you do.”

  “Oh that,” says Wanda with a giggle. “That’s why Danny’s so great. I’ll just hand him back to you whenever he gets like that.”

  I roll my eyes while giving her a silly grin.

  “No but seriously, speaking about you. Enough about me, we always go on and on about me. How did your date last night go?”

  After all, Wanda and I are still twenty-five year old women living in NYC. Although I’m now a mother, Wanda still has copious amounts of free time to go out and meet men. I actually encourage her to date as much as possible, and to sleep with all the hot guys she meets. When you get to motherhood, many of those opportunities shrivel right up because, believe it or not, not everyone wants to get entangled with a woman who has real responsibilities.

  My friend rolls her eyes.

  “That guy I went out with last night didn’t even show. What a douchebag. Can you believe it? I was so embarrassed when I realized what was happening because I had all those coupons for free guac at McWindy’s, but then I realized, if he wasn’t there, I’d be able to eat twice as much for the same price. So I did it,” she exclaims proudly. “I consumed two entire bowls of guacamole and chips on my own. For only five bucks too!”

  I sigh a bit, but keep a cheerful look on my face.

  “I’m happy for you Wan, but do you know why your date didn’t show?” I ask. “Did he say anything? Did he maybe send an apology text afterwards?”

  “Oh him?” says Wanda casually. “Who knows? Well, he did say our discussion about women’s rights on-line got out of hand and that we wouldn’t be a fit.”

  I gawk at her.

  “He said this before or after you were supposed to meet?”

  “After of course,” she says carelessly, like it doesn’t mean much. “Whatever, there are so many guys on-line, I’ll meet someone else soon. In fact, I’m supposed to go out with this other guy next week. I’m sure it’ll be better. If he doesn’t show too, then c’est la vie! It’s just more guac for me!” she cheers.

  Internally, I cringe a bit. Wanda is one of those women who always maintains a tough-chick façade, but I can see that she’s hurting from the no-show and the level of rejection in her life. She’s a strong, brassy, independent female, but sometimes, my friend is just too out there. Not just with the crazy hair and mismatched clothes, but also in the way she talks and the opinions always at the tip of her tongue.

  Take for example, her dating profile. I looked it over for her, ostensibly just to check for typos and such, but the minute I read it, I could tell no one would reply. No one sane at least. Wanda, for one, writes in long paragraphs, and I mean long. This girl babbles for ages and ages about all sorts of things, and she doesn’t realize that when you read on a phone, it appears as a wall of text. Readers’ eyes will go blurry, not to mention the fact that supposedly everyone has ADD these days. I don’t know how anyone would even get through one her answers.

  Fortunately, my friend was amenable to putting in some paragraphs, but it wasn’t just the formatting that was the problem. It was also the content itself. Wanda went off on all sorts of things. Politics. Religion. The Middle East. Every prickly topic you can think of, she hit hard with a hammer directly on the head. It’s like she lost every filter that makes for acceptable company, and instead wanted to spew her guts onto her dating profile.

  But when I gently suggested some changes to the actual text, Wanda shook her head firmly.

  “No, I want these guys to know who I really am,” she said. “That’s the point of these dating profiles, right? To showcase the real you without fear and judgment?”

  I nodded, taking a deep breath.

  “Well yes, but I think it’s a little more complicated than that. I mean, dating profiles appear really simple, but they can actually be very nuanced. Do you think some of these guys are really interested in three paragraphs on climate change? About oil spills? About the strife in Gaza on the next page?”

  My friend nodded emphatically.

  “Yeah, definitely. I mean, I would want to hear about this stuff. I don’t want to hide behind a screen because I want to be real in presenting myself. There are so many Instagrammers and digital influencers out there, and none of them are real. They’re always trying to sell you shit, and I’m not like that,” she said with a superior tilt of her nose. “I’m the real deal, Wanda Lela Jones, for your consumption pleasure.”

  I scrunched my nose but caught myself. Different strokes for different folks, the vo
ice in my head reminded. As a result, I nodded with a gentle smile. Maybe Wanda would find someone just as zany and eclectic as herself. After all, she’s not the only person passionate about these particular issues, and this is a big city.

  I nodded encouragingly.

  “Great. There’s someone out there for everyone, and you’re on the right course. You’ll find someone,” I said placatingly.

  “Thanks!” replied my friend with a cheery grin. “I know he’s out there, never fear!”

  But now, hearing about how another date was offended from her lack of a filter, I wasn’t so sure anymore. I could already picture the conversation they’d had: combative, personal, and virulent. I know I wouldn’t want to argue with her about women’s rights. Another sigh escaped my lips, but I force myself to stay upbeat.

  “Maybe this next one will be better,” I say in a cheery tone. “You never know.”

  “Yep,” said Wanda while popping a chip into her mouth. “But onto you.” Her expression grows serious. “How did your check-up go, Bethany? You’re okay, right? I’d die if something was actually wrong with you.”

  I smile at the redhead. Wanda’s always thinking about my needs, and I’m grateful to have her as a friend.

  But the words don’t come easy because how do I explain what happened? I take a deep breath. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, but when it comes, I still don’t feel prepared. On the one hand, I tell Wanda everything, but on the other, everything that happened was so illicit that I don’t want to give away too much.

  “It was good,” I say nonchalantly. “I went into Epicine Medical and met with the doctors there.”

  Wanda leans forward eagerly.

  “Oooh, which one did you meet with?” she asks with a curious sparkle to her eyes. “They were both so hot!”