She's a young surgeon, but she
needs a job.
If only she weren't a lesbian, she could sleep her way in.
Maybe she just needs a little help over that barrier.
But what might happen on the other side?
FF, FM, first time -- and more!
BetweenHerLegs
says --
This
story, like all BetweenHerLegs
stories, is a literary exploration of sexual fantasy.
It it not intended to describe actual persons or events, nor to condone
or encourage any of these activities.
Likewise, this and every other piece of erotica on this site should not
be read by or to minors,
nor by or to anyone for whom these materials are illegal, immoral, or
ill-advised.
Dr. Melle Swann would have
been a young up-and-comer if she had been a
man. She had just completed a very competitive and highly
prized
residency, had excelled in med school, and had been very active with
several fund-raising campaigns. But it didn't matter what
era,
there still wasn't much interest among major hospitals for hiring a young
woman into a top-tier surgical opening. Preference always
went to
a lesser qualified, even if not older, man. She wasn't too
proud
to sleep her way into a position, but she was too gay to sex
up a
man for it, and all the people making the hiring decisions were
men.
And the men would have had her if she'd offered. She was just
a
little taller than average, and in better physical condition than just
about any woman she'd met who wasn't a professional athlete.
She
had a naturally golden complexion, dark brown hair that fell below her
shoulders, and eyes the same color. She rarely smiled, but
her
face was serene and thoughtful, and no less attractive for it.
Her curves were more than a little generous for her lean
waistline and
trim limbs, but her fitness kept them toned and and perky.
But she wasn't about to offer herself to a man.
On the other hand, a woman with influence over a man? That
was a whole other story.
Toni Harrison was the assistant to Walter Eastman, the director of a
private hospital. She was in her forties, but still had good
skin
and and a fairly tight body. A brunette who
invariably wore
her hair up, she had large breasts, but was otherwise lean for a woman
of her age. Toni was also, by all accounts, Eastman's second
brain. More than a secretary, she really helped him run the
place. He consulted her on every decision, and she had the privilege of
taking initiative in raising issues with him if she so desired. As a
rule,
Melle assumed most women were regrettably straight. For that
reason she never stepped out and offered herself up to them.
But
while trying to persuade Toni to put in a word for her with Eastman,
the director's assistant had been clearly eying her body.
This morning, Melle was wearing a navy blue dress with a high neckline,
but also a
high hemline. As with most of her clothes, she bought it to
fit
her waist size, so it was a little tight around her chest and hips.
She
wore little makeup, but she did have on a white gold necklace, sheer
pantyhose, and a pair of high heels in the same shade as her dress.
Once she realized that Toni might be interested in her, she
took
full advantage of her outfit, leaning and stretching and twisting at
every opportunity.
Finally Toni motioned her closer. Melle leaned over the desk.
"Yes?"
"Is it true what I head about you?" Toni asked in a quiet voice.
"What's that?"
"That you're, you know?"
"No, I don't know."
Toni whispered the word: "Lesbian."
Melle smiled slightly. "Yes."
Toni cleared her throat and rose from behind her desk. "Come
with
me," she said gently, leading the doctor to an unused second office in
the same reception area. Melle had been having a dry spell
anyway, so if this worked out like she was hoping, it would be
fantastic all around. She was pleased to see that even though
Toni's hips had only a slight curve to them, her ass was well defined
and round.
When they entered the office, Toni shut the door. She walked
over
next to a couch, and smiled. She slowly begin to undo the top
buttons on her red dress. "Dr. Swann, I think you
can help
me answer a question I've always had."
"What's that?" Melle asked eagerly, climbing up onto the couch, and
kneeling next to one arm rest.
"I've never gotten much out of a man's kissing my breasts," she
admitted, wriggling out of the top of her dress, so that it hung about
her waist. "I've always wondered it it would be better if a woman
kissed them." And just like that she undid the front clasps
of
her bra and exposed her chest to the doctor.
"You'll love it," Melle said seriously, leaning over the arm rest to
pull the other woman towards her. She opened her mouth and
extended her tongue teasingly as she rubbed her cheek on the beautiful
tits. "You'll love it," she said again.
"I already do," Toni purred, clutching the other woman's head to her.
Suddenly, there was a noise behind her, and Melle tried to turn and
see, but Toni held her too tight. The assistant was strong.
Melle
feltt hands on her hips and ass as she was bent over the arm rest.
Her
dress was hiked up. A hand reaching between her legs and
rubbing. She tried to squirm free but couldn't.
Toni had
her gripped tight. Now her pantyhose were being pulled down.
And suddenly there was something on her pussy, pressing
against
it. Hard and warm. And then it was inside her.
It was nothing that Melle would have recognized as sex. She
would
not have chosen it. She assumed that it was Eastman, though,
and
decided that as long as it was happening to her anyway, adopting a more accepting attitude might be
to her
advantage. So she started to rock back against him.
Even as
she did, she also started to kiss and suck on Toni's tits.
They
were there and they were lovely; they shouldn't go to waste.
To Melle's delight, Toni shift slightly and loosened her grip, offering
her nipple to the direct attention of the would-be surgeon.
To
Melle's surprise, as Eastman gripped her hips and caressed her ass,
fucking her from behind, she realized that her pussy was moistening in
response, and it was getting better. Still not something she
would choose, but it was okay.
Toni made an incomprehensible sound of animal pleasure in response to
Melle's mouth work. She squirmed as she stood, fingernails
raking
up and down along the back of the doctor's head. "Is your
tongue
that effective on other parts of a woman's body?" she panted.
"More," Melle teased, sucking the tip of one breast into her mouth hard
before flicking her tongue over its nipples as rapidly and fiercely as
she could.
"Fuckin A, you're hot," Eastman said, his New England accent confirming it was him.
"You ever been fucked by a man like this, though?"
Melle bit back a sarcastic that might have referenced her clumsy heterosexual couplings
at the beginning of high school, and instead said, truthfully, "Not
really."
"Then you've never felt this before," he said. As he did, he
leaned into her and thrust his cock hard and deep. She had
assumed he had been plunging his full length into her. He
hadn't.
Now he did. His entire manhood deep inside her,
rubbing
along the underside of her cervix. It almost felt like he was
in
her belly.
"Oh god," she grunted involuntarily.
Eastman pulled back and then stroked in again, just as deep.
"Oh my fucking god," she panted.
As the director continued to stroke her, slow and deep from behind,
Melle lost the ability to act. Her mouth stopped working over Toni.
Her hips stopped rocking. She could do nothing but
lean
over the arm of the couch and make stupid exclamations of amazement.
Not only was this a feeling she'd never had before, but it was a
good
feeling. A really good feeling. So good that when
he
pulled out without warning, she actually missed the feeling.
"Put it back in, put it back in," she pleaded. "Please,
please, please."
"I can't hold out, babe," Eastman said, gesturing Toni to kneel on the
floor beside them. The pretty middle-aged woman did so, obediently, and within a
matter of
seconds, Eastman had fisted himself to completion all over his
assistant's chest.
Melle wasn't thinking clearly. She moved into a sitting
position, staring at his cock as it softened. That thing had
been
inside her. And she had enjoyed it. And she wanted
it
again. What was wrong with her?
"Can you go again?" she asked desperately.
"Not yet," he said. "Maybe I'll be ready after you clean up
Toni."
"Clean up ... ?"
"Yeah," he said.
Melle looked at Toni. The forty-something woman's face
betrayed a
mixture of fear and anticipation. She wasn't sure
she would
like a woman licking cum off her, but she was sure wanted to find out.
Melle herself was pretty positive she wanted nothing to do
with a
man's cum, but she wouldn't mind getting her mouth on Toni again.
"This is an expensive dress," she said, standing and getting undressed.
"Mind if I take it off?"
"Not all," Eastman assured her with a grin. "But leave the
shoes on."
Smiling with a mixture of amusement and unexpected arousal, Melle
stripped naked and then slipped back into her navy blue high heels.
She then shifted to the floor, each hand caressing one of
Toni's
arms. She leaned in toward the assistant's chest.
She
paused at that point to mentally brace herself. A man's cum.
Was any job worth that? Probably. And she
really
wanted to feel him inside her again, and knew that she would do just
about anything to get that feeling back, even if it meant tasting his cum.
So she did. Melle began by sticking out out her full lower
lip
and using it like a a soft squeegee, wiping Eastman's semen from Toni's
breasts. After a moment she lifted her face and slowly curled
the
lightly plumped lower lip back into her mouth. She bit it
gently
and then sucked
the cum from it.
She actually enjoyed the slick texture and the salty, slightly acrid
flavor. She went back to Toni's breasts, now with her tongue.
As
Toni groaned and fell to a seated-kneeling position, Melle
slipped her hand between the woman's beautiful legs. She
might as
well give the girl a good time.
She was very patiently working her hand up towards Toni's womanhood
when suddenly Eastman pushed her to the floor, away from the older brunette. Melle
didn't
object as the man lay her on her back. In fact, she spread her legs
wide for him. At first he knelt between her legs, rubbing
his
cock over her pussy lips teasingly, but when she raised her beautiful
legs, high heels and all, and wrapped them around his back, like a
spider pulling in its prey, he did not persist in teasing.
The moment his hardon slipped between her lower lips, Melle let out a
great groan and arched toward him. Her legs wrapped around his
waist tightly. Her hands clutched his head to her chest.
As
he suckled hungrily on her breast, she could only think about his long,
steely heat inside her, stretching her walls and touching places she
hadn't known were accessible to another person.
Eastman worked like a piston within her tight embrace, pumping as
steadily and as vigorously as possible. "You're so tight," he
panted, his voice muffled by her her gorgeous breasts.
"I've never had a man like you before," she told him, in the heat of
the moment regretting that she'd waited this long. "And I
never
use dildos."
"So much the better for me," he grunted out. He was gripping
her
shoulders now, lifting himself up a little and thrusting harder,
faster, and occasionally deeper. Every so often he would
thrust
slightly to one side, the angle rubbing her swollen inner walls.
Melle could only arch her back and take the pounding in her pussy with
closed eyes and open mouth. Her legs slid off his back.
This freedom allowed him to suddenly ram his cock powerfully
up
toward her g-spot, and a few strokes later, Melle was gasping and arching
her back high the air as she felt her insides spasm and quiver. Eastman
did not relent, kept stroking the same area. In no time at
all,
she was screaming with a series of small but powerful climaxes, each
provoked by his stimulation of her quivering insides, one orgasm turned
into another.
Without warning, he raised up out of her, and started to stroke his
cock. "I'm about to explode all over you, hot stuff."
Though she hardly recognized this side of herself, Melle smiled with
anticipation, and struggled up into a sitting position, looking up into
his eyes. Her face was only inches from the swelling, purple
head
of his cock.
"Mmm yeah," he groaned, stroking harder.
The beautiful young surgeon opened her mouth and lewdly extended her
tongue. That was enough for him. His rod quivered
and then
exploded with irregular spurts of sticky white cum. Melle
took it
on her tongue, on her face, in her hair, even a little in her eye. She thought he was finished with his load, and didn't
realize
that he was still beating off, so as she looked up at him, humming with
pleasure, eyes wide, mascara running from his semen, she was surprised
to catch two more shots, right in her eye.
Melle collapsed against the couch. Her body was tired, her
mind
confused, and her spirit exhilarated. She was pleased to
see
Eastman himself sit down on the couch, tired and spent.
Pleased
that she had provided him with a full sexual workout, Melle smiled and
started to try and wipe her eyes clear with the back of her hand.
"Thank you, Director," she said, her voice exhausted.
"No, thank you, Dr. Swann," he said. "Anything for our new orthopedic surgeon."
As fantastic as her first sex with a man had been, it would have been
worth it anyway, because it got her the job she wanted. Despite
having
thoroughly enjoyed her turn as a straight slut, she assumed that it
would be a one-time experience. It had been good, but it had
been
a one time thing brought about a certain set of circumstances that
could never really be replicated again. Nevertheless, she
found
herself longing to feel a man inside her again. She brought a
pretty young girl home from a bar one night, begged her to use a dildo,
and found it an unsatisfying plastic replica. The lesbian sex
had
been good, but she was craving the sensation of another person so warm
and hard, filling her from the inside.
She was almost to the point of trying to figure out how to find a male
prostitute, when another answer presented itself to her. A
patient's husband. He was young, handsome, and looked very
strong. Melle was meeting with him in her office, discussing
the
results of his wife's surgery. The whole time they talked,
she
moved about the office as sensually as could, and tried to flirt
without being obvious. After all, not only was he married,
but
his wife was in the hospital -- and in her care.
They started to chat about this and that after going over the medical
things, and she sat on the edge of her desk, legs crossed, one high
heel dangling off her foot. She laughed when it fell off, and
then gasped loudly as a quick tremor passed through her
body. She looked down and saw Mr. Briggs, on his knees,
sucking her now-exposed toes. The man's mouth was
gentle,
obscenely wet, and softer than she had imagined a man's mouth could
possibly feel. She couldn't help gasping repeatedly as the
married man sucked and licked his way down the row of toes.
"Mr. Briggs, what are you doing?" she managed to pant.
Briggs looked intense as he looked up at her with his mouth wide open,
tongue running circles around
Melle's long, pretty toes. "I've never cheated on
Olivia before," he
admitted. "I've never wanted to."
"I'm glad you changed your mind," Melle encouraged him, her face
equally intense as she leaned back and had to use her hands to brace
herself.
"It's all your doing," her patient's husband said. "I've
never met a woman who exuded as much sexuality as you do."
She uncrossed her legs, leaving them slightly parted. As
Briggs
slowly kissed his up the top of her foot to the back of her calf, she
shivered. "I hope you're not shocked," she said.
"Shocked?"
"When I wear skirts, I don't wear any panties."
He looked up the length of her shapely leg, and she spread just a
little more for him. "God," he said, the word hardly more
than an
animal sound erupting from the back of his throat. He reached
up
inside her skirt and clutched at the naked flesh of her hips, all the
wall, kissing his way to the inside of her thighs.
Melle slid a little towards him, bringing her bare pussy very close to
his face. The stimulus was enough for him. He
abandoned the
foreplay, and went for it. Briggs grabbed her legs with his
strong hands and spread them wide. He then turned his head
sideways and began sliding his tongue up and down her burning hot slit,
working deeper into her with each pass. As strong as his
hands
were, her thigh muscles were stronger, and she fought to bring her
thighs closer together, almost crushing his head between them within her
skirt.
He used his mouth well, but she didn't want his mouth. "Fuck
me,
Mr. Briggs," she begged. "I want your cock inside me."
He didn't need a second invitation to the beautiful pussy of his wife's
doctor. Leaving her on the edge of her desk, he hiked her
skirt
up, and dropped his trousers and boxers as quickly as he could.
He was rock hard already, and she stared admiringly at his
cock
as he pressed it up against her pussy, and slowly worked itself into
her depths.
"Oh yeah," he said, closing his eyes and starting to work
rhythmically. "You're very tight."
"And so wet for you, Mr. Briggs," she groaned, clutching at the edge of
the desk for balance. She kept her eyes open to watch his
beautiful manhood as it pumped her pussy. Not only was he
big,
but he knew how to fuck. Every single stroke found her g-spot
without needing any search time. "You're incredible."
Briggs was silent now. He could only pant as he concentrated
on
his work. He maintained the slow, deliberate pace as long as
he
could. It was Melle who had finally had too much.
She
clutched at his shoulders and pulled him up onto the desk, between
her legs. "Faster," she begged. "Harder."
He complied. And then went faster than that. And
harder.
"Yes!" she screamed. This was the feeling.
This was
what she had been craving. "Oh god, yes, don't stop!"
"Oh fuck," he shouted. "Oh god."
"Don't pull out," she begged him, panting as she fucked up against him,
wrapping her legs tightly around him. "Fill my pussy with
your
cum."
"Fucking god damn yes!" he shouted, his erection jerking hard inside her.
She felt his cock spasm, felt him throbbing against her walls.
"Yes," she encouraged. "Yes, don't stop."
But he slid out of her. "Sorry, hon," he said, "that's all
I've got for now."
Melle was on the verge of her climax, and didn't want to be left
hanging. She grabbed his head hard and pulled it
down to her
cum-sopping pussy. He fought and pulled away. She
screamed
at him. He called her psychotic, and beat a hasty retreat.
"Fucking men," she shrieked, literally spitting after him.
What
had she been thinking? Whether a cock felt good inside her or
not, it wasn't worth putting up with a man to get it. She was
in
a bad way, and she thought about just bringing herself off a couple
times to relax the tension, but then she decided on a better plan.
Mr. Briggs' wife was recovering from reconstructive knee surgery.
There was nothing wrong with the rest of her. And
she was
gorgeous. And married to that bastard. So Melle
went to the
hospital.
As attractive as the surgeon might have been, Olivia Briggs made her
self-conscious. The patient was over six-feet tall, thin and
shapely like a model. She had curly black hair that was
impeccably cut, and obscene long eyelashes with large green eyes.
Even without makeup her complexion was perfect and her lips
rosy
red. Perhaps best of all, the hospital gown she wore showed
off
her long, beautiful legs.
When Melle arrived, she went through the normal routine of checks and questions, but then paused
by the side of the bed. She looked into her patient's
glamorously
beautiful face and smiled. She reached down to touch the
woman's
knee -- her good knee, which was naked and exposed not protected by a
brace.
"Wrong knee," Olivia joked.
"Depends," Melle said with a smile, brushing her fingertips lightly up
and down the inside of the other woman's leg.
"Depends on what?" Olivia asked, her voice and face betraying some
apparent discomfort.
Melle let her fingers trail down the length of the other woman's calf.
"Depends on if I'm palpating your injury location or
just
promoting your recovery with a gentle, healing touch."
"Which are you trying to do?" Olivia asked, her face now inscrutable.
Their eyes were locked. Melle's hand was gliding
oh-so-slowly up towards the woman's thigh.
"I thought I might try the healing touch," the surgeon offered, blowing
some stray strands of hair out of her face.
"I'm not sure I'm ready for a healing touch."
Melle pressed her hand gently into the patient's inner thigh, bringing
an involuntary noise from the woman. "Is it because of the
touch
or because of who's giving the touch?"
Olivia answered hesitantly, "I'm not sure."
"I'm your doctor," Melle insisted gently, "and I think this is what you
need." She began rubbing little circles in Olivia's thigh,
working gradually upward, between her sculpted legs.
"I'm married, Dr. Swann, shouldn't my husband be the one healing me?"
"It's not the same sort of healing," Melle explained, her fingertips
now a hair away from the woman's pussy. "Besides, I know for
certain that your husband has been busy using his healing techniques
elsewhere."
"Really."
"Mm-hmm."
"But I've never been... healed... by a woman before."
"Then it's time, isn't it?"
Melle extended a long, elegant finger and gently rolled it around the
patient's lower lips. "You don't need to do anything, just
sit
back and let the healing wash over you."
As the surgeon's finger gently worked its way down into the heart of
her slit, Olivia closed her eyes, and groaned a little. "It's
not
me that it's going to go washing over."
At that, Melle laughed softly, and used her free hand to lift the
bottom of Olivia's gown so that she could watch her finger loosening
the woman up. Olivia was shaved clean except for a small,
black
tuft at the top. Melle had never seen a pussy quite so smooth
and
flawless as hers. "You're beautiful," she whispered, sliding
her
finger most of the way inside her patient.
Olivia just groaned and arched her back.
She didn't need much incentive, but Melle took that as he cue to step
up the action. She slid her finger all the way inside Olivia
and
began working it slightly in and out, but mostly around in circles.
She pressed each of the other woman's pulsing inner walls,
which
were quickly swelling in on the finger. The surgeon climbed
up
into the bed and bent down to kiss the top of her patient's thighs.
"So beautiful," she repeated, now adding a second finger.
She was frigging Olivia much harder now, though only a little
faster.
"Oh!" Olivia gasped, thrusting against the action of the doctors
fingers, as one hand clutched at the other woman's hair. "Oh,
doctor."
Melle paused, holding both fingers deep, deep inside the gorgeous
woman's pussy. She crooked them a little and then began
rocking
them back and forth. As she did this, she slid her mouth
wetly
towards Olivia's mound. Olivia gave out a little cry, and
tugged
the surgeon's hair hard.
"No!" she begged. "Not that."
Melle extended her tongue as lewdly as possible, almost touching the
place where her fingers entered her lover's body. "What's
wrong,
hon?"
"Not that, please."
"Why not?"
Olivia's grip was tight on her surgeon's hair, not allowing the other
woman to dip her head any lower. "My husband's never even
done
that. It wouldn't be right."
"Right?"
"I don't know, I'm scared."
"Scared it won't feel good?" Melle asked, straining against the painful
force on her hair to approach the pretty pussy.
Olivia surrendered, letting go of Melle's hair and throwing her good
leg over the doctor's shoulder. "Scared it might feel too
good,"
she admitted.
Melle hummed as she pressed her face against the pussy. It
was
warm and moist, yielding to her passionate kisses. She
continued
to slide her two fingers in and out now, slowly, but searching for the
other woman's g-spot with each stroke. She sucked
and
kissed and lapped at every inch of the woman's beauty. When
Olivia began to squirm tensely, Melle knew she was getting close to her
first orgasm, and decided to make it a good one. Speeding up
her
fingers, her mouth slid to the woman's clitoris. With tongue
and
lips she revealed the aching little love bud, which she immediately
began to suckle.
It was far too much for Olivia, who had never received oral sex before
at all, and she cried out and hunched her entire body as she came.
The surgeon didn't let up, though, instead began stabbing
rapidly
with her fingers at the other woman's g-spot. She continued
to
suck and lick, and even nip at her clit. Following
as it
did so close upon her first climax, this attention overwhelmed Olivia.
The patient could do nothing except make animal noises and
claw
at her lover's head as her body spasmed out of control.
When she finally could take no more, Olivia yanked Melle's hair again,
this time pulling her off and pulling her up on top of herself.
"Thank you, thank you, oh god, oh god, thank you," she
panted,
kissing the surgeon and tasting her own pussy on the other woman's
face. "You're so pretty, god," Olivia added, still out of
breath,
covering Melle's face with clumsy, wet kisses. "I can't
believe
what you just did for me."
Melle just smiled and hummed against her lover's mouth.
Olivia opened her mouth wide and accepted the other woman's tongue.
The erotic sensation of another woman's tongue, so sweet and
soft,
so curious and passionate, was enough to cause another quiver inside
Olivia, and she cried out before rolling herself and her lover so they
were on their sides. She clutched at the surgeon's hip,
loving
the feel of another woman's body, and then said, "Now it's your turn."
Melle was not only desperate to be pleasured by the gorgeous woman, but
was still wound up from having been left hanging by the woman's husband
earlier. She closed her eyes and smiled in
anticipation.
And then there was the sound of general shouting, and she opened her
eyes again.
They had been discovered.
Olivia scrambled to cover up her indecency, and Melle tumbled out of
the hospital bed. When she pulled herself up to her feet, she
saw
who had come in. It was Director Eastman.
"Good god, Dr. Swann," he was saying, "have you no self control
whatsoever?"
Melle frowned, her serious face able to convey venom quite effectively.
"If I had self control, I wouldn't have this job," she
remarked
quite pointedly.
"You don't have this job anymore," Eastman growled. "You
cannot take advantage of your patients like this."
"She wasn't taking advantage of me," Olivia said, looking scared.
Melle looked at her patient with confusion. She hadn't felt
bad
about what they were doing, but she wouldn't deny that she had been
taking advantage of the other woman. Director Eastman looked
at
them both with disbelief. "What do you mean?" he demanded.
"I wanted her first," Olivia said hurriedly. "I seduced her."
"You did what?"
"I seduced her. She's so beautiful," Olivia said, calming
down
some as she spoke now. "She has such a pretty, sophisticated
face," she continued, "and her body is so tight but so curvy, I just
couldn't stop looking at her. And thinking about her.
And
when she came in just now, I reached out and grabbed her hips and just
pulled her to me. I sweet-talked her. And I pulled
her into
my bed."
"Is this true?" Eastman asked, turning to Melle.
Melle had no intentions of letting this woman take the hit for her.
She was apparently as generous and kind as she was beautiful.
She deserved more respect than that. But as she
opened her
mouth and started to answer, she got a sharp glance from the patient
in the hospital bed. "Yes," she answered. "I mean,
she . .
. " Melle started to lose her voice as she looked at the other woman.
She was so tall and so glamorous. Yet her eyes were
pleading for Melle to let her be the bad guy. The surgeon had
never known such a sacrificing spirit in such an attractive container.
It was compelling. And overpowering. She
swallowed
heard, and finally answered the director, but her eyes kept roaming
over Olivia's face, trying to memorize it since she would never see it
again. "I mean, she and I made a bad choice to do this here,
but
there was no taking advantage. If you can look at her and not
understand how I couldn't resist her, then you're not opening your
eyes, Director."
Olivia smiled. And Melle found herself smiling. It
wasn't
something she did often, but when she smiled it was a big, wide smile
that incorporated her whole face.
"No, I can certainly see why neither of you could resist," Eastman
allowed, softening. "But this is a hospital for crying out
loud.
People outside the door could hear you."
"Sorry, Director," Melle apologized.
"Sorry," Olivia added quietly.
"Don't let it happen again," Eastman added. Both women
nodded,
but he could see a sudden shadow of doubt or regret cross their faces
so he added, "Bite on a pillow or some thing so you at least don't
scream out."
They smiled, and he left. The moment the door was shut, Melle
climbed back up into her patient's bed and started to undress as they
kissed. "Thank you."
"No, thank you," Olivia insisted, caressing her lover's increasingly
exposed body. "I've never been a lesbian before."
Melle smiled as she slid out of her skirt. "I used to be a
lesbian," she said. "Then I wasn't. Now I am again."
"Naughty doctor," Olivia scolded her. "No panties?"
Melle just sighed with pleasure and lay next to the other woman.
Olivia's fingers began to explore her body with both
curiosity
and desire. She knew her own body, but had never known
another
woman's. It was a fascinating experience for her, and Melle
could
see both her interest and her passion increasing with every touch.
Olivia scooted a little away from her more experienced lover
to
watch as the other woman's breasts responded to her touch. At
first she only let her fingertips dance around the soft flesh, but
watching the breasts heave with breath and seeing the nipples harden
encouraged her that this was a good thing. She cupped her
lover's
tits firmly, flexing the palms of her hands to massage them.
Melle turned her face into a pillow and groaned.
Smiling with delight at having pleased the surgeon, Olivia giggle
girlishly and trailed her hands down Melle's sides, along the
curve of her back, and to her ass. She caressed its firm
shape,
surprised at how good it felt in her hands. She didn't
realize
quite how aroused Melle was, however, and was caught off guard when the
surgeon grabbed one of those hands and pulled it around to her mound.
"Please," Melle begged. "Please."
Olivia was not one to give easily into pleas for sexual release.
She smiled, and ran her tongue around the lips of her lover,
while two fingers traced the contours of Melle's mound. Down,
then back up, and then down again. On their return up, she
allowed them to dance now around the outer surface of her pussy itself.
Thrilled less by the novelty of the sensation and more by the
sheer delightfulness of all the complex textures and surfaces, Olivia's
smile dissolved into animal passion. She could resist Melle's
begging no longer. Kissing the surgeon deeply, Olivia plunged
a finger deep inside her and held it there. If she felt linger traces
of her husband's cum she either didn't recognize them for what they
were or else didn't care.
Both women gasped into their kiss. Olivia couldn't believe
how it felt to be inside a woman. It was like nothing she
could have imagined. The shapes were not entirely unlike her
own, yet still she ran her finger deliberately over every one of them to test
and memorize each surface. Even in the similarity, touching
Melle from the inside was nothing like playing with herself.
There was a spiritual component. As if the warm,
wet portal was a gateway inside the woman herself. As if the
swelling of her inner walls were not embracing her finger, but
encouraging it onward, welcoming her inside her lover's spirit.
Olivia kissed Melle harder than she'd ever kissed another person.
Her mouth was hungry, ravenous. Teeth gnashing,
tongues battling, lips trying desperately to engulf the surgeon.
With three fingers now she tried to crawl inside her lover.
With her mouth she tried to crawl around her.
Hoping to surround and engulf Melle inside and out.
Suddenly, she felt the surgeon's hand return to her pussy with a hard
stroke of two longer fingers. Olivia bit her own lip hard and
threw her head back. Their bodies swayed against one another,
fingers thrusting. Eyes open, they kissed. Melle's
face was screwed up with a desperate look somewhere between pain and
passion. A sudden surge in wetness told Olivia that her lover
was cumming. She thrust harder with her fingers.
Melle did the same. Rocking against each other in
the hospital bed. Surgeon and patient. Olivia
didn't know if they were making love or just fucking, but she was
entranced by whatever they were doing.
Without warning, Melle turned her head and bit her pillow hard, rolling
away from Olivia's hand and bucking violently. For several
moments, her body bucked and spasmed. When finally she
released the pillow from her mouth and turned to face her patient,
Melle's eyes were glazed over and her mouth hanging open. She
tried to say something but could not.
Olivia was overcome by the sense of have just rendered her lover
totally helpless, and she too came again, a quiet tremor that coursed
through her entire body, seeming to emanate from her very center and
work out like a shock wave. She shivered in its wake and then
slowly brought her hand up toward her mouth. She'd never
tasted even her own juices until she had kissed Melle after receiving
oral sex earlier. But as she stared into the other woman's
eyes she was eager to take her fingers into her mouth and taste Melle.
She opened wide and took all three fingers in, running her
tongue around and between them.
Then, smiling and giggling like a little girl, the beautiful married
woman looked at the fingers in awe and then asked her surgeon, "Can I
be a lesbian again tomorrow, Dr. Swann?"
The response was slow and difficult. "I know I will be."
Melle, her body aching and her spirit soaring, felt her mind
clarify. She didn't know what was to become of her and
Olivia. They would be together again tomorrow. That
was enough to contemplate for now. For a moment she almost
allowed herself to think it had been a mistake to allow herself to be
used for sex by two men. Then she realized that without
allowing Eastman to fuck her, she would never have gotten the job.
If she hadn't gotten the job she wouldn't have met either Mr.
or Mrs. Briggs. And if she hadn't enjoyed her first cock
enough to want another, she would never have dallied with Olivia
Briggs' husband -- and would not have rebounded with Olivia herself.
And no matter its long-term possibilities, this moment with
Olivia was worth whatever price she had paid.
Lost in thought, she was caught off-guard when she felt Olivia's soft,
wet tongue reach out and taste her delicate inner folds.
Melle cried out loudly, and then, looking down at the
beautiful woman who was curled up between her legs, cried out again.
Olivia began to gently suck her way around those delicate
inner lips. Yes, worth any price.
