by Whitney G.
Oh. My. God ...
“Garrett ... Can you ...” I cried out, as he began fucking me even harder with his fingers, as the sound of them slipping in and out of drenched pussy filled the room. “Can you ... slow down? Slow ... Down ...”
“Shhh ...” He blew against my clit again — making me moan even louder, but he didn’t slow down at all.
He continued to tease me with his tongue’s perfect, sensuous rhythm, and each time I tried to close my legs, he tightened his grip on them and held them apart.
My pussy began to throb against his mouth and that only made him torture me more.
“Come on my face, Natalie ...” he whispered. “Come for me ...”
As he began to alternate between rubbing the pad of his thumb and his tongue against my clit, I shut my eyes. My body began trembling beneath his tight grasp, and I tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was no use.
I cried out as my entire body shook against the table — sending some of the supplies from the cart crashing to the floor. I felt him continuing to kiss my pussy, as wave after wave of pent-up pleasure rolled through me again and again.
By the time I was still again, I couldn’t feel my legs and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to stand up for the next two hours, if I wanted to.
Garrett trailed his tongue against me one last time before standing up and looking at me.
“You’re sexy as hell when you come,” he said softly. “I look forward to seeing that a lot more often.”
Keeping his eyes on mine, he grabbed a few soft towels from the cabinet and wiped between my legs until he was satisfied with his work.
Then, after picking up my skirt and placing it next to me, he walked to the door. “We’ll need to meet here for a follow-up within the next forty-eight hours. Just to be sure you’re completely satisfied with your treatment ...”
THE DOCTOR
New York, New York
Garrett
Subject: Progress.
I heard you completed a pap smear all by yourself today. Would you like a medal?
—Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Progress.
Correction: I completed two pap smears all by myself today. And yes, if you’re offering. I would like a medal.
—Dr. Madison
Subject: Re: Re: Progress.
I’d be happy to award you one under three conditions/demands.
—Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Progress.
List them and I’ll let you know whether I can agree to them or not.
—Dr. Madison
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Progress.
1. You start talking to me again outside of emails/when you need my help for something. (I apologize for the way I treated you and I will apologize in person, if you agree to this point)
2. You admit that you regret standing me up that night.
3. You meet me in exam room number six in thirty minutes so I can give you the award personally ... (Hint: It’s not really a medal.)
—Dr. Ashton
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Progress.
1. Okay I agree to this. (I definitely want the apology in person.)
2. I do regret standing you up that night, but only because I think we actually match up pretty well and we could’ve had a good conversation about it. (Then again, you would’ve fucked me before I started here, so a part of me still doesn’t regret standing you up. :-) )
3. I’m already in here waiting. (Hint: I was hoping it wasn’t a medal :-).)
—Dr. Madison
THE DOCTOR
New York, New York
Garrett
What the hell am I thinking?
I was going to have to fire this woman. Sooner rather than later.
Exactly twenty-two hours after I devoured her pussy in an exam room, I did it again.
And again two days after that.
And then again every other day, just because.
She had yet to complete her first official exam from me because we kept pushing it back due to our “exam room time,” and I was starting to feel like I was becoming more like the other doctors here.
I was only doing the things I wanted to do, when I wanted to do them. and that honestly wasn’t good for me or Natalie.
What was worse, was that I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that I actually liked her beyond whatever the hell we were currently doing. She was hands-down the most intelligent woman I’d ever met, definitely the sexiest, and I felt as if she was the perfect type of person I could see myself dating outside of the office.
That, in itself, was a huge problem.
I wasn’t the monogamous dating type — at least I wasn’t ready now, and my practice came before everything. Always.
Still, I was starting to realize that even though we were both workaholics, we somehow still found a way to spend time together every day. In the break-room, over breakfast in the library downstairs, after office-hours in the newly renovated research wing.
I even sent her a gift delivery last night ...
I needed to put a stop to this. And fast.
THE RESIDENT
New York, New York
Natalie
Subject: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today.
I’m attaching a picture. How cute are these?! (I think he really likes me.)
He also sent me a sweet, handwritten invitation for a “makeup date” a few weeks from now.
—Natalie
Subject: Re: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today.
He sent you flowers yesterday, too. Are you trying to make me jealous? (And of course he really likes you. **eyeroll** It’s quite obvious from that permanent goofy grin he makes you come home with every day.)
Please don’t stand him up this time...
Wait, you’re not calling him ‘Dr. Nine Inches’ anymore? By the way, why haven’t you told me anything about experiencing these supposed “nine inches” yet?
—Shan-Shan
Subject: Re: Re: Re: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today.
No, he sent me dinner and wine yesterday. The other set of flowers were from the day before yesterday. Big difference. :-)
And yes, I’m trying to make you jealous, but only because I saw some of your notes from Manhattan Medical on the counter today and that made me jealous... (What they did to me still stings, amazing alternative or not. I’m sorry. :-( )
I definitely won’t stand him up. He’s actually insisting that he pick me up that night.
Oh! And I actually like the name ‘Dirty Doctor’ for now, and the only reason I haven’t told you about his ‘nine inches’ is because we still haven’t had sex.
PS—Do you think it’s possible that we really could be a 100% match like that silly NewYorkMinute app suggested?
—Natalie
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today.
100% match?
Let’s see: You’re both stubborn, argumentative, and hot tempered when pushed. You also clearly have no morals when it comes to having oral sex in an exam room after hours, so...Yep. 100% match.
On a more serious note, yes. I think something might become of this down the line. I see you two dating for years, eventually.
ALSO—Since you mentioned Manhattan Medical, I’m attaching an internal memo that went out earlier this week. I know you’re enjoying Park Avenue Wellness, but if you’re the slightest bit tempted, read this. (If not, delete it.)
—Shan-Shan
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: ‘Dirty Doctor’ sent me flowers today.
I won’t need to read it, but thank you for sending it to me anyway. :-)
I’ll call you on my lunch break.
—Natalie
THE RESIDENT
New York, New York
Natalie
So much for that...
I hate that I ever started to really, truly like this man ...
It took all of a few weeks for Dr. Ash
ton to ruin all my memories of what he’d done to me in the exam room, along with all the random sweet things he’d done for me. The scenes of him giving me back to back orgasms with nothing more than his tongue were now erased by the way he’d come into work for the past couple days this week.
He was back to being an unhinged, psycho-boss and treating me terribly for no reason at all.
The office partition had reappeared between our spaces, the bookshelves were next to me once more — brimming with files, and when I asked him why he was doing this again, he simply blew up on me.
As he talked on the phone to what sounded like an angry patient, I pulled up Manhattan Medical’s website and logged into their employee portal.
I’d finally opened that internal memo Shannon emailed me and realized it was probably fate trying to send me a message. It was a Human Resources message that revealed that two residents had been fired last month for recklessness, and the hospital was looking to quickly replace them without much fanfare or attention.
I opened my drawer and pulled out my resume, hoping for a miracle that I would be accepted again. And if I didn’t get accepted, I was going to apply to other places and hope for transfer options with the new semester.
Falling in love with Park Avenue Wellness — hectic days aside, wasn’t enough for me to constantly put up with Dr. Ashton’s hot and cold behavior. Amazing tongue or not.
“Dr. Madison?” He called my name once he hung up the phone. “Dr. Madison?”
I pulled out my phone and sent him an email.
Subject: Yes?
What can I help you with today, Dr. Jekyll/Hyde?
—Dr. Madison
He sighed and stood up from his desk, walking over to mine. “We’re not going through that email-only shit again.”
“Aren’t we?” I typed in University of Maryland into the education section. “I told you before that you can’t treat me any type of way and you did it again, for no reason.”
“There is a reason.” His voice was tight. “A very good reason.”
“Then what is it?” I stopped typing and looked up at him. “What could possibly make you think that you could have me screaming your name in that exam room one day and then completely beneath you like trash the next?”
“I’ve told you before, I would never technically have you beneath me,” he said, walking behind my desk. “And to be honest, the reasoning is —” He glanced at my screen, sucking in a harsh breath as the words, “Thank you for filling out part one of the Manhattan Medical Residency application” popped onto my screen in bold.
“You’re applying for other residencies while you’re here?” He sounded angry, but there was a hint of hurt in his voice. “How long have you been doing this behind my back?”
“Just today, when you started being a condescending asshole again.” I gritted my teeth.
“Are you sure it’s just today?”
I didn’t get a chance to answer him before a new email popped onto my screen from Shannon, and I knew there was nothing I could do to prevent him from seeing it.
Subject: Emergency! (Is it now? LOL)
Am I supposed to call your office right now so you can tell Dirty Doctor there’s an emergency you have to tend to or is it in an hour? I can’t remember ...
Let me know ...
—Shan-Shan
“So, you’re a liar as well?” Dr. Ashton clenched his jaw.
“Better than being a psycho who doesn’t know how to treat the smartest resident he’s ever had.”
“You’re also the sexiest resident I’ve ever had, Natalie.” He closed the gap between us. “And that’s the fucking problem.”
“My looks make you treat me bad?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re a therapist and you actually allowed those words to come out of your mouth? Seriously?”
“Natalie —”
“No.” My blood was boiling. “Your reasoning is absolute bullshit. It sounds more like, I like you, Natalie, but I’m just an alpha-asshole who’s too scared to be a gentleman, so I’ll just treat you badly as my way of showing ‘I like you’ whenever it hits me.”
“That’s not it.”
“It’s not?” I tried to step back, but he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest. “That doesn’t sound the least bit plausible to you?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Then why have you consistently brought me, and only me, breakfast and coffee to work every day? Every. Single. Day?”
“We share an office. It’d be rude not to do so.”
“Why have there been random, nightly flower and wine deliveries to my house, then?”
“Maybe I feel bad for breaking the fraternization rules and want to make it up to you.”
“And the handwritten invitation in the mail from you to me?”
“To Per Se?” His expression softened, but it didn’t stay long.
“Yes, to fucking Per Se for four weeks from now because you said you ‘really, really wanted’ a make-up date.” My chest was heaving up and down, and I was on the verge of screaming. “What’s your excuse for that one?”
“I’ve never been stood up a day in my life. I need you to correct it.”
“You know what?” I jerked away from him and headed toward the door, hating that I was beyond wet, that I could clearly see the imprint of his hardened cock through his pants. “Fuck you, Dr. Ashton. Fuck. You.”
“I’ll happily take you up on that.” He beat me to the door and grabbed the doorknob before I could twist it. Then he spun me around. “Yes, I fucking like you, Natalie. A lot more than I should.”
“How easy was that to say?”
“Very. Take off your clothes.” He was in front of me in seconds, his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair as I struggled to unzip the side of my dress.
Impatient, he moved my hand away and unzipped my dress himself. Then he pushed me down onto the chaise and unbuckled his pants.
“Get on your knees ...” He whispered into my ear, and I slowly rose up on all fours. He moved behind me and grabbed my ponytail, gently pulling it back.
I heard the sound of him unwrapping a condom, and the next thing I felt was him slowly sliding his cock inside of me. Inch by inch.
It’s definitely nine inches...
“Ahhh...” I murmured, and he kissed the back of my neck.
I dug my nails into the leather as he commanded me to be still, as my body adjusted to the full, thick length of him.
He kissed my shoulder softly, but there was an abrupt end to his sweetness. He suddenly gripped my hips and pounded his cock into me relentlessly, making me cry out in pleasure. His left hand cupped my mouth to muffle my loud screams, and he used his other hand to hold me taut against him.
Shutting my eyes, I let him have full control and gave into him — not focusing on anything else. As he bit my skin harshly, he whispered, “Your pussy feels so fucking good...so fucking good...”
The phone on his desk rang as he thrust into me deeper. I expected him to simply let it ring as we continued, but he pulled me back by my hair and whispered, “Pick it up.”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He slid into me again. “Pick up the phone. Answer it.”
“Now?”
“Right now.” He slapped my ass, never losing his rhythm.
With him still pounding into me, I picked up the phone. “Dr. Ashton’s office.” I answered breathlessly. “How may I —” I held back a moan. “How may I help you?”
“Hi, my name is Hannah Yates. I was hoping to reach Dr. Ashton about my appointment this evening. I wanted to let him know that I’d be coming a little earlier, and if that would be okay?”
“It’s more than okay,” he whispered into my ear. “Tell her it’s more than okay.”
“Um, ma’am, it’s —” I bit my lip as his thumb massaged my clit. “I’m sure that will be more than okay. I’ll let him know. Have a great day.”
“No, wait! Could you als
o tell him that I’m open to talking about my sex life? Tell him he can ask me those questions this time, so it won’t be awkward.”
I nodded, as if she could see me, unable to say anything as my body began to tremble and shake.
“Hello? Are you there?”
“Are you, Dr. Madison?” He kissed my neck. “Are you there?”
“Yessss....” I moaned and dropped the phone, falling forward against his desk. He caught me before my face could hit the wood, and then he picked up the phone himself.
“Miss Yates, this is Dr. Ashton, are you still on the line?” He pounded into me harder as he found his own release, holding me against him as he kept his voice calm as ever. “Yes ...Yes, I was telling Dr. Madison that would be completely fine, so you don’t have to —” He kissed the back of my neck. “You don’t have to check later ... Okay ... Yes, that offer still stands ... Right ... Okay, see you then.”
He hung up the phone and slowly pulled out of me before laying me against the chaise. He took off the condom and threw it away, then he walked back over to me and helped me back into my dress.
He looked at me, slightly concerned. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. I’d never been fucked like that before, and I was pretty sure I would be replaying today in my dreams for months to come.
“Are you planning to stay the rest of the day, or —” He looked at his watch. “Is it almost time for you to pretend like you have an emergency with ‘Shan-Shan,’ so you can leave and keep applying to Manhattan Medical?”
“No, I ...” My cheeks reddened. “I wasn’t going to pretend.”
“So, there is an emergency?”
“No,” I admitted. “But there could be in a few minutes. You never know.”
“And is ‘Dirty Doctor’ what you call me behind my back?” He looked somewhat amused.
“I have a different nickname for you, actually.”
“Care to tell me what it is?”
“Never.” I smiled. “But if you’d like me to change it, you can drop the alpha-asshole thing as of today and try to be a bit more romantic.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You don’t want to know the answer to that, but it includes the return of email-only conversations.”
