Doctor Jodie Wright whirled and pressed her back to the surgery door the moment it shut, sealing the small room from the patients waiting in the lobby. Her expression clouded, the arch of the wide window opposite reflected in her golden brown irises, as she stared at the back of the man ahead of her and hissed, "You shouldn’t be here."
She ran her fingers through the mane of taupe hair that pooled over her crisp white lab coat when he turned to face her. His smile was as warm as the room, the slight gap between his front teeth on display.
"Do you know how difficult it is to get an appointment in this place? I had to lie."
"Dammit, David. There are sick people out there." She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "Real sick people."
"I am sick."
She released an exaggerated breath. "Really?"
"Yes. I have-" he consulted the A5 piece of paper he was clutching, his messy handwriting scrawled across it, "-an inflamed organ."
"Stop pissing about, David, you'll get me fire-"
"Mr. Johnson."
She faltered. "What?"
"That's my name. Mr. Clive Johnson. Says so right here." He waved the paper again.
"Jesus…"
"No, Johnson. J-O-H-N-S-"
"Shut up."
David seemed amused. "How long do you have, per patient?"
She pursed her lips. "Our target is fifteen minutes."
"Then you'd better be quick. Tick-tock."
She put her hands on her hips, eyed him from flaxen hair to polished shoes and sighed. "Okay then, Mister Johnson, how can I help you this lunch time?" Her plum accent enunciated the round vowels with a clarity afforded by her Buckinghamshire upbringing.
He blinked long lashes that Jodie wished she had, folding the sheet of paper into his back pocket. "I need an examination."
"Oh do you now?"
He nodded and looked down. "It's a serious condition."
She followed his gaze. Saw the sizeable bulge to which he was referring. "So when did this… condition present itself?"
"This morning."
"And how did it come about, pray tell?"
"Well that’s the thing. I was in the Sales meeting and you know how Tim likes to drone on about projections and forecasts. Especially when he gets his PowerPoint on. And he…" Jodie looked at her watch and folded her arms. "Anyway, my mind started to wander. Mainly thinking about what we did last night."
He paused and scratched his nose. After searching for a glimmer of recognition she wasn't going to give, he continued. "I kept seeing you bent over the sofa. The way you presented that flawless bottom to me. The way you spread it. And the way you let me take you… there, where you’ve never let me before."
"We were a bit drunk."
"Yes, but still. I loved it. Loved listening to you beg when you got into it. Reminded me of when we were on that plane to ‘Frisco, you remember? Back row?"
Jodie coloured a little and shifted her weight to the other side of her body. "Of course I remember."
"I thought about when you leant across me as if looking at the clouds below us and put your hand under the blanket in our laps. It was so hot. Even hotter when you took my cock out. Made me hard in no time. I especially loved when you pulled your skirt up and whispered in my ear, begging me to take you right there in the seat. And then turned away to face the aisle, shoving your sweet round butt against me."
His voice caught in his throat before he swallowed and went on. "I thought back to how I pulled your underwear aside and had to make it look like we were curled up asleep. But that flight attendant wasn’t fooled, watching us make love. I swear she was sat in the galley with her hand in her knickers the whole time. So, yeah, after sitting there thinking about all that, I developed," he looked down again, "a bit of a problem."
Despite being riled by his unannounced presence, Jodie had to suppress a smirk, flashing another look at his crotch. "So I see."
"I think it needs looking at."
She roved her gaze from his sapphire eyes and tapered nose, beyond the few days of stubble, down his pinstriped shirt to settle longer on his zipper. "Looks fine from here. Nothing a cold shower won't fix. You can go. Make my stats look good."
He waited until she dragged her eyes to his. "A closer inspection is required. You can't take in all the… nuances of this condition from there."
"I'd love to but seriously don't have time."
David fixed her with a stare. "Then I guess I'll have to tell the receptionist you refused to see me. Won't look good on your precious statistics."
He made to take a step towards her svelte form blocking the doorway.
"Fine." Jodie sighed theatrically. "What is it you want?"
"Your expertise." David made his words slow and precise, a gravelly timbre to them. "Come closer."
"Why?"
"Because doctors need to examine patients. Need to touch them."
She didn't move at first. Just stared him down before taking a single step forward, sensible flats barely a whisper on the tiled floor.
David growled. "Closer."
One more step. Then another, until she was in his shadow, half a head shorter than he was. The orange blossom and cinnamon notes of his aftershave filled her nostrils.
His eyes strayed to her body. She saw him take in the considerable swell of her breasts beneath the lab coat as he spoke. "Aren't you going to examine me?"
Jodie waited for him to finish ogling then crept her hand towards his body. She touched his sculpted chest. "Does it hurt here, Mr. Johnson?"
David breathed in. "No. Lower."
She walked her fingers. "Here?"
"Lower," he exhaled.
"Oh. How about… here?" She brushed the strong bulge through his trousers, feeling him engorge.
"Yes. Right there."
Jodie traced the outline of his cock, impressive and hard. She felt a tingle inside. "It does seem to be rather inflamed," she purred and he nodded. "I think I have some medicine to help it go down. Might not work immediately."
Rubbing more insistently, the tingle became a fluttering in her belly. Even though she'd been initially indignant about her husband's appearance, listening to him recounting their inappropriate public behaviour, running her fingertips over his firm shaft, and witnessing him draw breath with each touch felt decidedly naughty. Especially at work.
She weighed up the odds. A few feet the other side of the unlocked door were patients. Strangers. On top of that, colleagues were prone to walk in unannounced. Too much noise or a stroke of bad luck and it might spell the end of her career.
But the pair of them had taken risks before. Considerable risks. She shivered, yet warmed as thoughts churned in her mind. That time at the far edge of the park beneath celestial blue sky, David lying back on the ground, her sitting pantyless astride him in a flowing strappy dress that covered the indiscretion beneath.
She had a Kindle in her hands, the latest Mandy Baggot on the screen. He had a Reacher novel. Innocent enough from a distance. People around them were virtually oblivious to her inner sexual turmoil as her hips rotated ever so slightly, their pubic bones grinding together. Just enough to cause David's length to rock back and forth inside her needy slit. Enough to massage the perfect spots that made her sopping wet.
Anyone passing who looked close enough might have seen telltale signs that the pages of both their books were forgotten. Her mouth slightly agape. Nipples firm and visible through the thin bra; a combination of desire and the gentle breeze. Perhaps the tiny undulations of her hips as she kept herself on edge. They wouldn’t see the cream oozing from her body and rolling down David's rigid shaft into his boxer shorts, but Jodie knew it was there. A frothy manifestation of want.
She had kept them both excited throughout; periodically nodding, mouthing things like "Yes" and "Fuck me" to him until neither could stand it any longer. Until she passed boiling point and came in a shattering orgasm that she wasn't convinced she managed to keep completely to herself. When he saw her face screwed up in pleasure, he flooded her insides with a seemingly endless torrent of sticky spunk. Spunk that leaked out of her and drizzled to the seat of her dress, long after she'd rolled off him to the grass alongside. It had been reckless. Exciting.
Invigorated by the memory, Jodie sank to her knees. Let her fingers roam to his waistband. Bringing her other hand into play, she fumbled with the buckle and loosened it, then unbuttoned his dark grey work trousers. Tugging the zip, she could feel his heat from within against her face. Moreso when she pulled his Marvel boxers down and his erection sprang free, beyond Thor's hammer and Hulk's fist.
He drew a breath when she enclosed his stiffness with her hand, gently sliding back the foreskin to reveal the darker flesh of the head beneath. "My, it is inflamed."
"Mmmm. Is there anything you can do?"
Jodie appraised his beautiful cock. "I can prescribe some fellatio. Might help with the swelling."
"You're the doctor."
Gliding her hand up and down his velvety tumescence, Jodie brought her lips to the tip. Let her hot breath play over him for a moment, listening to his breathing quicken, then pushed forward. He gave a low moan as her mouth engulfed him down to where her hand gripped the base, then drew back. Half the shaft glistened in the dappled sun that danced into the room through the trees outside.
She trailed her hands to either side of David's waist, looked up demurely into his eyes and slid her lips again over his raging hardness, gently pulling him towards her. Each centimetre that disappeared into her hot mouth triggered a little thrill deep inside her.
By the time she broke eye contact and had its entirety nudging the entrance to her throat, the annoyance at his interruption had all but vanished.
David exhaled sharply. "Fuck."
With deliberate slowness, Jodie reversed until just the tip remained captured. She swirled her tongue around the bulbous head, tasting the sweetness of pre-come before releasing him, hands dropping to her lap. She watched hungrily as his wet shaft bobbed between them. "Is the medicine working?"
He tilted his head, appraising. "Maybe another shot."
A glimmer of a smile flashed across Jodie's lips, her cheeks lightly flushed. She reached for him again, but David interrupted.
"No hands."
"A direct injection? That might be more effective."
Jodie changed the trajectory of her hands. She brushed her breasts through the starched lab coat, juddering at the touch, then traced her sides and full, curvy hips before resting her hands together behind her back, wrists crossed. She tucked her left thumb into its palm and gripped it tight with the remaining four fingers, compressing the pressure point. A trick learned from the Internet to control her gag reflex. She had no idea how it worked.
David reached for her, took hold of the back of her head and guided her forward, placing the end of his cock at the entrance to her willing mouth. She opened up to let him slide in. One-third. Two-thirds. Further and further until wiry pubes tickled her nose.
Fighting for breath when he was fully within, she shook her head from side to side and listened to his groans of appreciation as he gripped and held her in place. Jodie coughed around him, cheeks billowing, but he retained his grip. She snorted, breathing in hard through her nose and mouth where possible, taking everything he forced into her. Still he held on, grinding her against his pelvis, cock flaring in her soft, wet mouth and throat.