Warm and Sweet, Vol. 1

by Jolene Avonn

  “Miss Clancy?” he repeated, tensing his jaw and revealing a tight dimple in his cheek.

  “Yes,” I said. “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Good,” he said. “I’m still learning the room numbers and the nurses’ shorthand.”

  To my immediate disappointment, the nurse followed him in and stood near the counter. She smiled warmly at me.

  “Hello again,” she said.

  “Hello,” I snapped.

  Dr. Kestrel shut the door and rolled a stool out of the corner, flipping through a folder and bringing a pen to his mouth. His clothes might have surprised me the most: he wore gray pants and a burgundy cashmere sweater over a crisp white dress shirt. No lab coat in sight, and none of the standard, nondescript clinical garb.

  I shifted on the exam table and shot a look at the nurse. I’m not sure what I expected. I knew it was standard practice to have someone else in the room. But certain parts of my body had different ideas. The heat that had been raging in my chest and washing down into a waterfall between my legs had started to overcome my brain.

  Dr. Langley ran the pen along his lips — they were a deep pink, buttery soft — and then nipped off the cap.

  “What brings you in today?” he said. He spoke quickly, like someone who’s already an hour late. He scribbled on a page in the folder and didn’t look up at me until he was finished. His sleeves were pushed up, and his forearms tensed and flexed in a way that made my head swim.

  “Umm, nothing big, really. It was time for my regular visit and I also had a few questions.” My voice trailed off as I struggled to figure out if I could possibly tell this new doctor the real reason I’d made the appointment.

  “Right,” he said crisply. “Well, let’s get the basics out of the way and then we can chat. Sit up straight, please.” He handed the folder to the nurse, pulled a stethoscope from his back pocket, and inserted the buds into his ears. Then he puffed a couple breaths on the cold round surface and rolled toward the table.

  I closed my eyes and sat up as straight as I could, well aware that my breasts were pushing the crumpled gown into shapes like cones. I wished hard for the nurse to disappear. It was one thing to be overwhelmed by arousal; it was another to be caught having to explain it to an attractive doctor with another more experienced woman in the room, someone who’d probably smile with fake concern and laugh about it with lunchtime pals.

  Dr. Langley pressed the stethoscope to my back and told me to take deep breaths. I inhaled slowly as he moved the cool circle between my shoulder blades, lower along my sides, gliding over me with a deft touch and making my neck tingle every time he murmured, “Mmm-hmmm, that’s good. Again please. Mm-hm.”

  My skin was alive. I twitched every time he brushed against me, pretending it was because of the cold while I knew full well that Dr. Langley’s fingertips were thrilling me one small touch at a time. Every now and then he’d push his full hand against my back and I had to bite my tongue to keep from swooning loud enough to shatter his stethoscope. He moved closer, heat rolling toward me in waves.

  “Okay,” he said. “Now I’m going to move to the front real quick. This will only take a second.”

  Dr. Langley slid his hand inside the open back of my gown and brought his hand over my left breast, which was perched in the cup of my bra like a trembling offering just for him. The stethoscope’s tube fluttered back and forth across my nipple like a tiny tongue. I shuddered and sucked in a breath, swelling even more as my lungs filled. My pulse pounded like crazy and I was sure he could hear it, stethoscope or not. His forearm rested heavily against my right tit and that set my pussy dripping in earnest. The little square of tissue was hot and wet against my lips and the thong dug in until I could feel myself throbbing against it.

  I did all I could to keep from shaking as he pressed into me.

  “Liz? A breath?”

  I let out a whoosh of air and inhaled again. “Sorry,” I gasped. “It’s, uh, a little cold.”

  “Almost done,” he said.

  I wanted him to hold his arm against me forever. Take your time, I said to myself. Please don’t go. Not ever. He moved to four different spots on my chest and listened for a few seconds at each, and then withdrew his hand. His fingertips brushed my thigh as they left and this time I did start to shake.

  “Everything sounds good,” he said. “Look directly at me for a second.”

  Dr. Langley clicked on a pen light and checked my eyes. Between flashes of blinding light, I saw him focusing intently. I wanted so badly to reach out and brush his bristling cheeks, to pull his mouth to mine and melt away. When he held my chin briefly and turned my head to the side to peer into my ears I could barely contain myself.

  He was close now. So close. His warm breath on my neck turned the experience into a sensual collage. The smell of his cologne, a mix of citrus and musk. The soft cashmere of his sweater calling for me to nuzzle into it, pressing my face into his muscular chest. The steady rhythm of his breathing — utterly calm. The idea that this powerful man was mere inches away when I needed a strong touch so badly; everything combined to turn me into a sloppy, overheated mess.

  Dr. Langley pulled a tongue depressor from his pocket and tilted my head back.

  “You know the drill,” he said. “Open up and say, ‘Ahhh’”

  I opened wide and let my tongue stretch far out on to my lower lip before I half-groaned, “Ahhhhhh.” Dr. Langley pressed the wooden stick on my tongue and peered down my throat. He slid the stick a little further back and I started to gag.

  “Steady,” he said, his thumb and forefinger tightening on my chin and freezing me in place.

  I fought the urge to swallow and cough at the same time, bucking up against him in one quick spasm. My ears buzzed with panic, and I got that hot nervous feeling in my center as he held down my tongue a second or two too long, until he finally released pressure on the tongue depressor and let go of me.

  “Okay, now lie back for me for a second,” Dr. Langley said, moving along without noticing my distress. “I’m going to press on your tummy, moving my hand a little, make sure everything’s okay in there, and then we’ll be ready to get you off to the bloodwork station.”

  I tipped back slowly on the exam table and settled my head into the crinkling paper over a small pillow. I kept my eyes closed and concentrated on counting backward from 100.

  This is just a crush, I told myself. One of those instant crushes that will pass as soon as you leave.

  Dr. Langley slipped his hand under the gown again and began to press around my stomach with firm, warm fingers. I giggled, instantly ticklish.

  “Sorry,” I gasped.

  “It’s okay, perfectly normal,” he said. His voice was still clipped. I knew he wanted to move to the next appointment; my mind raced with reasons to prevent him from going.

  He slid his hand over my navel and pressed again. My pussy gave a throb and I shifted my hips to work my panties harder against my damp labia. I bit my lip and tried not to break into hysterics as a steady refrain dominated my inner monologue:

  Please touch my pussy, please touch my pussy, please touch my pussy.

  Every repetition seemed to make me wetter. I worried that Dr. Langley might smell me, or that he’d hear the slickness as I shifted on the table, or that the warmth rolling down my midsection would turn into a full-on climax.

  I tried to hold perfectly still. My imagination raged with possibilities. Would he examine my breasts? What would happen if my nipples were stiff and hard when his hand accidentally slipped under my bra? Would he twist them more? Harder? Tug them between his fingers, roll the flesh until I screamed?

  And what would it be like if his hand really did crush against my cunt and jerk the sticky panties to the side? Would the cotton rip? What would those thick fingers feel like as they slid along my folds? Would he be rough or gentle? Would he tease me or fuck me hard, without mercy?

  Go ahead. Tear them. Rip my panties off. Shove two fingers in so fast th
at I come in hard waves right then and there. Right now. Do it. Do it!

  Dr. Langley pushed an inch or two above the light hair leading to my mound, just for a second, and my head lifted up from the pillow in sheer erotic agony.

  “Ohhhh,” I moaned, barely above a whisper. I was on the edge and about to tumble off.

  “That hurt?” he asked. He sounded alarmed and slightly peeved.

  “No!” I said. “No, sorry. It’s okay. I’m really ticklish, doctor.” I forced a chuckle and gripped the edge of the exam table so hard my fingernails hurt.

  He jerked his hands free and patted me once on the calf. “You’re all done, then. You can sit up, Liz.”

  I angled up on an elbow first, woozy, and then sat with my legs dangling from the table. Dr. Langley took my folder from the nurse and opened the door for her. She frowned at me as she left.

  “I’ll be along in a second,” he said. He shut the door again.

  My breath came fast and shallow. My cheeks burned and my ears hummed with excitement. I was so incredibly warm, and there was no question about leaving hints of my desperation on the exam table. The paper was wet and soft below my pussy.

  “So you had some questions then?” he asked.

  I smiled and looked at the floor.

  “No, I guess not. Well, maybe,” I said. “It’s stupid.”

  “Tell me. I’ve heard it all, Miss Clancy, believe me.”

  I looked up and saw the frustration on his face. He wanted this over with. He just wanted to leave. His furrowed brow took my smile away. I sighed, torn between giving up or asking for help.

  Finally, I decided to take a chance.

  “I’ve been having this problem,” I said. I spoke fast because I knew that if I stopped, I’d never work up the nerve to try again. “For a long time. I get these feelings, this heat, these burning feelings and they just don’t stop. It’s like I can’t turn it off. Everything throbs and pulses and the only relief is really embarrassing to talk about but I’ll say it because I’m nervous and kind of scared. The only thing that helps is touching myself.”

  I smoothed the paper gown over my thighs and waited. With every word I’d spoken, I’d gotten more worked up. My bra felt ridiculously tight and my nipples were crazy hot with the same kind of electricity that thrilled my sex. In my mind, Dr. Langley would have no choice but to counsel me. To soothe me. I wouldn’t have complained if he’d continued the exam. In fact, I was one step away from begging for it.

  “And there’s one more thing,” I added.

  “Yes?” he said, checking his watch.

  “Sometimes,” I said softly, “well, most of the time, I like it to hurt. I have to tease myself, or pinch myself, and that’s what — ”

  “Is this serious, Liz?” Dr. Langley said.

  I couldn’t meet his gaze. I nodded slowly.

  “You’re telling me you’re aroused? Constantly?”

  I nodded again.

  “And there’s a pain element?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The stool squeaked as he leaned back and set the folder on the counter.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “Forever!” I blurted out. “Well, like two years maybe? Three? Since I started, you know, noticing things. Noticing boys. When things started to change.”

  “Are you sexually active? Beyond the self-satisfaction aspect of this?”

  I could hear the hint of a smile in his voice, a rather cruel note.

  “No,” I said. “No partners.”

  We sat silently for a long moment. I lifted my eyes to meet the doctor’s intense gaze. He was completely still, studying me, judging me. Right then, I knew it. I knew I shouldn’t have said anything.

  “Stop wasting my fucking time, Miss Clancy,” Dr. Langley said. He stood abruptly and snatched my folder from the counter. “You’re perfectly fine. You’re just horny. Go get yourself laid.”

  I stared at him in shock.

  “What? Don’t like the truth? Not used to that, are you? Well look, I’m sick of people coming in here and lying about shit. Excuses for pills, excuses for disability pay, and now you. You know damn well you’re attractive. Taller than average, lean legs, big tits. And here you are trying to get me to feel you up because you’re too scared to go fuck a guy your age.”

  I blinked hard, tears quivering at the corners of my eyes like huge raindrops.

  “But…I don’t…that’s not what I wanted at all.”

  Dr. Langley took two strides forward. He wrapped one hand behind my neck and pulled my face close to his. I went stiff with fear.

  Breathing hard, he slid his other hand under the paper gown and mashed his palm against my cunt.

  “You tell me again, little slut,” he growled. “Tell me this isn’t exactly what you wanted.”

  I whimpered as he cupped my pussy and ground his hand in hard, quick circles. My vision blurred as blinding heat washed over me. He trailed his finger over my labia lightly, petting me, and then he drove his palm into my clit until I squeaked.

  I couldn’t talk. I mouthed words that didn’t come out. Dr. Langley’s rough cheek scratched against my neck as he snarled into my ear.

  “Tell me what you want, Miss Clancy.”

  I tried to shake my head but he wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t help letting my thighs open, and my hips tilted up as he continued working against my slit until my lips blossomed around the wadded, thin triangle of my panties and the tissue.

  “Tell me why you’re here!” He slid a finger under the thong’s front and jerked upward, pulling it further into my slit.

  “I want…I want you to make me come,” I moaned. I worked my hips in harder circles, pressing into his hand and flexing my legs open and closed. The movements were involuntary. My body was driving me toward an explosion and nothing could stop me.

  “You want to cream all over my hand, don’t you? So fucking wet already you’re dripping on the table, so worked up by a simple little touch like this.”

  He pressed his thumb right above my clit and then circled the swelling, hooded pearl three times before I could even take a breath.

  “Yes, yes,” I said. Bursts of white rocketed across my vision. The doctor’s thumb went faster and faster.

  “Yes what?” Three more tight circles, and I could feel a new, heavy presence at my cunt as he curled his hand into a fist and leaned in, thumbing over my clit and pressing his knuckles into my drenched lips.

  “I want to come. I want to come on your hand!”

  “Are you a wet one? Do you gush all over yourself when you finger that tight pussy all alone in your bed? Don’t lie to me, Miss Clancy.” He shook my head until I locked eyes with him.

  “Yes, oh God yes,” I groaned, rocking my hips forward yet again, unable to break away from his penetrating stare. “I’m so wet. So messy. I’m going to cream on your hand, doctor. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t help it.”

  “I thought so,” he said, his breath ragged as he worked his fist against me for another thirty seconds. My thighs trembled and my belly spasmed with a million waves building into one giant, drenching rush. I threw my head back, finally escaping his grip, and let out a long moan. My tits surged against the paper gown and I reached for Dr. Langley’s powerful forearm and gripped it hard, pulling him into me, imagining his fingers sliding deeper and deeper.

  Then, cruelly, he withdrew. I snapped my head back down and stared at him, pleading.

  “No no no no,” I whined. “Dr. Langley, please!”

  “I’m done with you,” he said matter-of-factly. “You’re a silly, silly woman and I can’t waste any more time here. Get your clothes on and go with the nurse when she comes in. And Miss Clancy, don’t come back here if you know what’s good for you. You say you like it to hurt? You and I both know that’s bullshit.”

  Dr. Langley wiped his hands with an antiseptic towelette from a jar on the counter. I watched in shock, my legs spread slightly on the table and my wetness sticky on my
thighs. My chest was flushed beet red and I was panting. Dr. Langley tossed the towelette away and left the room without another word.

  “I…wait,” I sputtered. “You can’t just leave me.”

  But he had left me. I looked down at my crumpled gown and tried to drop off the table gracefully. My shaky legs almost gave out. I gingerly slipped one hand against my pussy and stroked low to high, just like I liked, desperate for release; a noisy set of footsteps in the hallway crushed any ideas of self-pleasure. I had to get dressed before Nurse Moore reappeared.

  When she entered, I’d just finished buttoning my shirt. I know my face was still flushed, but I’d at least taken time to run my fingers through my hair. She didn’t say anything as we walked quickly toward the bloodwork station.

  ~~~

  That night I went upstairs to bed right after dinner. I lingered in a hot shower for a long time, washing myself slowly and running through my appointment with Dr. Langley over and over again. It wasn’t difficult to rediscover my arousal; within moments I was surrounded by clouds of steam and my fantastic imaginings of what it’d be like to have him wet and naked in front of me.

  The strong hands that had thrilled me in real life performed a soapy, slippery massage of my breasts, rubbing each full globe thoroughly and twirling my nipples into a frenzy that left me leaning with one hand against the cool tile wall.

  Those same hands, in this hazy-hot day dream, slid down my belly and lavished attention on my pussy. His thick middle finger dipped low into my cunt, beckoning inside, pulling my juices to the surface and driving deep again.

  You say you like it to hurt? You and I both know that’s bullshit.

  Fingers at my nipples pinched hard. They pulled, and pulled more before releasing. Then a smack directly on my tender areola. Again. The wet skin singing in pain now. The finger slides out of my pussy and for a moment I’m left wanting. Then a hard slap against my sex shocks me, dropping me to my knees and setting off spasms up and down my thighs.

  Again and again, wet slaps against my pussy pepper my clit and lips and I drench the hand that’s tormenting me. More pain at my nipples from another hard twist, the lightning connection from breast to clit on fire and humming.