“Morning, Liz.”
“Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“I’m okay for now,” I reply, lifting up the cup in my hand. She giggles and I try not to roll my eyes.
She shouldn’t try so hard. I like a woman who can hold her own.
I like the feisty ones, like the one I had bent over my kitchen counter last night. She’d been wild, all nails and biting and writhing, loving the way I slammed my cock into her. I smile at the thought of her ass backing into me. Her curly brown hair had felt good when my fingers were wrapped around it.
She’d been very, very good.
It’s too bad I won’t see her again. She was a lot of fun. We hardly slept at all last night, and I’m definitely feeling it this morning.
It was worth it though. I’d watched her put her tiny skirt back on this morning and walk bow-legged out of my apartment.
I didn’t get up when she did this morning. I just watched her put her clothes back on from my bed with my arms behind my head. I like watching a woman get dressed almost as much as I liked watching her getting undressed, and this girl loved giving me a show. She bent over to slip her panties and skirt back on, and then threw her shirt over her head without bothering to put her bra back on, glancing over her shoulder and looking at me with those smoldering eyes.
They don’t call me Doctor O for nothing.
I yawn as I get to my office, closing the door behind me and flopping onto my chair. I rub my eyes and drain the coffee cup in front of me, then lean back in my chair. My thoughts flick back to this morning. I smile, thinking of the familiar charade I play with all the women I hook up with.
Once she gathered her things from around my room, she looked back at me as I laid in bed. She smiled a bit sheepishly at me and awkwardly said goodbye. I nodded at her, knowing she wanted me to ask to see her again, to give her my phone number and promise to take her out. No way. Goodbye, curly haired vixen, it’s been a wild night but that’s all it’ll be.
It’s my golden rule: one woman, one night, and no mixing sex with work. I can’t get attached, and neither can they. One night of fun is all they get, and in a city like New York there’s no shortage of women to choose from. My career is too important to me, and women just seem to get in the way.
I set this rule for myself years ago when my ex destroyed my world and burned everything I cared about. She ripped through my life, leaving a wake of destruction behind her and me standing in the middle holding nothing but the remains of my own shattered heart.
So since then, I just don’t put myself in that position. I flirt, I fuck, I have fun, and I leave it at that.
It’s served me well to focus on my career and I’ve had no shortage of women to keep me entertained. I wouldn’t want to hang out with them for more than a couple hours anyway. Long enough to get off and then get them out.
I squint at my computer screen, knowing it’ll be a long day already. Even though Saturdays are half days, Liz has booked me up completely from now until two o’clock. After that, I’m going to need a nap to make up for last night’s lost sleep.
I glance at the screen again. My schedule is full but nothing too strenuous, just routine checkups and a few elderly patients in for their new prescriptions.
One new client I haven’t met yet pops up in my mid-morning slot. Valerie Brooks. Sexy name, I think to myself. Can’t mix business and pleasure unfortunately, otherwise I’d be all over the multitude of young beautiful female patients that throw themselves at me. This one won’t be any different, if she ends up being as sexy as her name sounds.
I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I put myself through medical school, working nights and weekends. I did it myself and graduated at the top of my class. I worked hard in my residency and have been putting in the hours at the clinic while I try to get placed in a cardiology specialty.
This position at my current practice is a crucial steppingstone in my career, and I can’t mess it up under any circumstances. Once I’m finished here, I’m in line to work under the best cardiologist in the country. Just a couple short months and I can make the move cross-country to Seattle.
Still, I smile at the thought of my medical school years. I’ve successfully kept my second job a secret from my network of medical professionals. I wouldn’t want anyone to know I was a male stripper and made a fortune getting naked in front of screaming women. That’s not exactly the bedside manner they teach in medical school.
It did teach me what makes women tick, what drives them wild. I saw the power of having a rock-hard body, and how crazy it makes women. I love having women throw themselves at me, and back then, I was no different.
You can dress me up in a white coat, and I can stare at charts all day, but I still love seeing that animalistic look in a woman’s eye when she’s more turned on than ever before.
Bachelorette parties were the most fun, those women really let themselves loose. I hardly had to strip myself of my clothes, they’d rip everything off me themselves.
On the wall above my computer screen is my med school diploma. I can’t go around half naked on a stage anymore, but I can still drive women wild.
Like the chick last night.
Her bright, red lipstick looked so, so good when it was wrapped around my hard cock. I’d wrapped my fingers into her curly hair and helped her along as she worked her magic. I can feel my cock twitch against my pants at the thought, wanting to feel a woman’s lips around it once again.
I shake my head. I’m at work. I can fantasize about her later today. For now, I need to prepare myself for my first patient.
There’s a knock on the door and Liz pops her head through the opening. She leans over as she pokes through the door so I can see her cleavage on full display. I wouldn’t mind giving her a full physical, but we work together and I can’t risk my position at the practice. She’s just the type of girl that would get too attached.
“Your first patient is here, doctor. Let me know if you need anything from me.” She smiles and cocks her head to the side. Her breasts are pressed up against the door and she bats her eyelashes at me. Good morning to you too, Liz.
“Thanks Liz, I’ll let you know. Send them in.”
3
Valerie
I wake up when my phone rings, and I run my hand over my nightstand until I find it. Squinting through one eye, I glance at the screen. It’s Emma.
“Oh. My. God. Val. You will not believe the night I had.”
She’s practically yelling down the phone in excitement. Groggy, I rub my eyes and try to understand what she’s saying. My voice is hoarse from sleep when I respond.
“Why, what happened? Are you okay?” I sit up and run my fingers through my hair.
“Am I okay? Are you kidding me? I just had the most mind blowing night of the century. Holy shit, Val, you would not believe it. I just had the craziest, most animalistic sex of my life. I haven’t even slept. He was so good, and his cock was huge. Massive.”
I groan in response, still trying to wake up. It isn’t unusual for Emma to wake me up with her crazy antics. I just wish she hadn’t done so on my first day off in two weeks. I hold the phone to my ear and she talks nonstop while I try to keep up.
“I met him at this bar and we connected right away, you know? Like we were just drawn to each other. He had me bent over his kitchen counter, pulling my hair back, ahh even just thinking about it now is driving me nuts. Val, you need to sort out this orgasm thing of yours because life's too short to not have a night like that.”
“Sounds exciting, Em.” My voice is still husky, and I clear my throat while she keeps talking.
“You wouldn’t believe. Seriously. You need to have an orgasm. Or twelve.” Finally, Emma’s excitement seems to die down. She sighs in contentment. Finally awake, I take a deep breath.
“I’m going to the doctor this morning actually, I’m going to ask them about it,” I respond.
“About the orgasm thing? “
“Yeah,”
I respond. “The orgasm thing.”
“That’s amazing, Val! Because I can tell you, you are missing out. Big time.”
As if I didn’t already know. Her words sting me to the core. I love Emma with all my heart but sometimes she can be so obtuse. I know she doesn’t mean to hurt my feelings but when she goes on and on about how great her sex life is, it just makes me feel so inadequate. She doesn’t mean to hurt me, but she does. Even today, when I’m already scared of going to the doctor and opening up about this, she’s reminding me that there’s something wrong with me.
“Call me after,” she replies. Her voice is softer now, and I can tell she’s thinking of me. “Tell me how it goes.”
My throat tightens and I nod my head, as if she could see me. “I will.”
“I’m glad you’re doing this, Val. It’s really brave of you.”
I choke out a response and we hang up the phone. Sighing, I shake my head. Of course she cares about me. Maybe I’m the bitter one, who’s focused on my own problems instead of being happy for my friend.
I lie back down and stare up at my ceiling. I wonder if there are any other ceilings that have been stared at as much as mine. I seem to know every inch of it, every crack in the paint and the way the light hits every corner of it. I should put up a photo like they do in dentists’ offices so at least I’d have something to look at. I’m not sure that would help my orgasm problem, though.
I get up and turn on the shower. I look at myself in the bathroom mirror as the water warms up. I look a bit tired but nothing a good shower and some makeup won’t fix. War paint, as Emma calls it. I need to feel as confident as possible when I go to this doctor’s appointment because if I feel the slightest bit insecure about myself, I might not go through with this. Then what would I do? I’d keep living this orgasm-less life. I’d keep missing out on mind-blowing, animalistic sex.
My mind is racing as I shower. How will the doctor react? I’m sure they’ll be professional. I hope it’s a woman.
As I get ready, I try not to think too much about my appointment. I pick out my favorite jeans and a tight white tank top. I blow dry my hair and put on some makeup, making sure my blue eyes pop. I even put on some lipstick, thinking of Emma and her signature power red. I choose a dusty pink color. It’s understated and flattering, and it feels like my version of war paint.
I throw on a cardigan and look at myself in my full-length mirror. I feel good. Simple, casual, but pretty and confident. I look like someone who is capable of having mind blowing orgasms.
At least I hope I do.
It’s nice to be wearing jeans, and to have slept in. This appointment isn’t exactly my idea of a good time, but it’s nice to have a day off. I deserve it, after all the work I’ve been doing.
I’ve started making some significant sales in New York real estate. Month after month I’ve been the top sales agent in my area, so my boss has finally given me some bigger listings. I’m breaking into the multi-million dollar mansions now, which means a bigger commission and more difficult clients. It’s cutthroat, thankless, and nonstop, but I know how to sell a house.
I smile.
I can’t come, but at least I close a deal.
Whenever life gets hard, I’ve always just thrown myself into my work. When I broke up with Bryce, it was the perfect time to pick up more hours at the office.
But now? Now I feel like I’m over Bryce. I’ve moved on, but my body hasn’t gotten the memo. Today is the day that everything changes.
Deep breaths. After this morning I’ll be buying a direct ticket to Orgasmtown, population: me.
Hopefully.
I grab my keys, wallet, and phone and head down to my car. Shoulders back, head high. Fake it till you make it. I’m going to the doctor to get my problem fixed. Simple. Easy. Nothing to it.
Right?
4
Clay
I tip back my third cup of coffee, letting the final drips touch my tongue. Isn’t this stuff supposed to have caffeine in it? My eyes are still sore around the edges and the minutes seem to be ticking by more slowly than usual. Maybe last night wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Nah, who am I kidding. A good fuck is worth a long day at work the next day.
Mr. Cooper hobbles out of my office and the door shuts quietly behind him. The old man comes to see me for his new prescriptions every month, and every month I have to hear about every one of his nine grandchildren. Today, it was particularly difficult to nod politely while he repeated himself over and over.
I check my calendar and raise my eyebrow. Miss Valerie Brooks is up next. I wonder what a girl with a name like that looks like. I’m imagining a long leggy brunette, doe-eyed and innocent. Or maybe she’s a red-haired vixen. She could be a blonde bombshell with big tits. My mind wanders and I make up a Mrs. Potato Head of hot women that could have a name like Valerie Brooks.
It only takes a few moments for my lips to curl up into a grin as I imagine what my perfect woman would look like. I lean back in my chair and close my eyes for a moment, and then sigh.
Who am I kidding? She’s probably 80 years old and doesn’t match her name at all. She’ll probably be shuffling in and telling me about her nine grandchildren in a minute.
That would probably be better, actually. The last thing I need is a distraction. One night with a curly-haired, red-lipped vixen? Sign me up. An ongoing patient? Never in a million years.
I’ve been making headway with the lead cardiologist at the hospital downtown. He’s letting me shadow him next week, and I absolutely cannot have a bad performance review here at the practice. If there is even a whisper of me being inappropriate with a patient, I’m done.
I take a deep breath and hope that Valerie Brooks is as unattractive as they come, for my sake.
Liz knocks on the door and drops off Miss Brooks’ paperwork.
“Thank you,” I say, flashing her my best smile. She blushes and I chuckle at how easy it is. I wonder how many times she’s rubbed one out thinking of me between her legs.
I glance at the papers in front of me. All new patients need to fill in general information: age, gender, address, allergies. The usual. Female, 29 years old.
Damn it.
Looks like she’s not a senior citizen after all. I close the file and stand up, ready to find this girl and call her into my office.
The waiting area is down a short hallway and around to the left. My heart is beating a bit faster as I open my door and walk out. I don’t know why I feel like this. It’s just a name, another patient. Another person that’s off-limits to me. I’ve always been professional, and today is no different. I must be still wound up from last night.
I try to talk myself down with every step. I lean on my professionalism as I round the corner.
But then, my voice catches in my throat as I get ready to call her name.
Whoa.
It has to be her, there’s no one else there. She’s sitting in a chair, facing the reception desk. I can see her profile, the way her long blonde hair falls in loose curls around her face. She’s wearing a white top and tight jeans. She’s slouched a bit, and her tits are perfectly round and resting above her flat stomach. Not too big but shaped to perfection. I clear my throat. Somehow, she looks better than my Mrs. Potato Head. I didn’t even think was possible.
“Valerie Brooks?” I hate how hesitant I sound. It isn’t like me.
She turns to face me and I get a full view of her. Her blue eyes stand out like jewels and she looks at me like she’s searching my face for answers. I want to hold her gaze but I have to glance down at her lips. They look so soft and pillowy and I bet they taste like candy. I clear my throat again and look down at the floor. I need to get it together.
I don’t mix work and play. Ever. That’s the rule, and Valerie Brooks is no exception.
I can’t resist watching as she gets up out of her chair and bends over to pick up her bag. I wait by the hallway as she walks toward me. Does she know how incredible
she looks? Each movement is graceful and sensual. Her legs are a mile long and her slender hips sway with every step. Gesturing for her to walk in front of me, I can’t help but watch. With every step her perfectly pert ass moves from side to side. I would kill to bend her over my desk, to spread those cheeks and…
Stop. No. I need to stop.
She’s like any other patient that walks through my door. Never mind that her long blonde hair would be perfect to twist my fingers into as I fucked her from behind, or that her body is slim and tight, just how I like it.
It doesn’t matter.
This is work, and I’m not going to mess this up for anything. I open the door to my office and let her walk in in front of me, motioning to a chair beside my desk for her to sit in.
She sits down and turns to me, waiting expectantly. Her eyes are deep, dark blue. They’re clear and sparkling, and all of a sudden there’s a lump in my throat—and between my legs. I can’t help but look down as she crosses her long legs, hips hugged by her tight jeans.
I clear my throat, glancing down at her file in front of me.
“Valerie,” I say in the best Doctor Voice I can manage. “What can I do for you?”
5
Valerie
This is my worst nightmare.
I shift in the hard plastic chair in Doctor O’Neill’s office and try not to stare at him.
Not only is this doctor male, he’s absolutely gorgeous. It looks like he just walked out of a calendar dedicated to sexy doctors. I can tell by the way the fabric is pulling over his chest that he’s athletic.
He’s looking over a file that I assume has my information, and I can’t help but sweep my eyes over his body. He’s wearing this pale purple button-down shirt tucked into his black pants. It fits him perfectly, and I can’t help but wonder what his body looks like. He definitely keeps in shape. He glances up at me and flashes a smile and I just about melt into a puddle on the floor.
Doctor's Orders (Complete Series) Page 2
