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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.

Otherwise... enjoy!

Love and kisses,

Jenny (ManyJennies@yahoo.com)

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"Worth any PRice"

by BetweenHerLegs

© Jenny Clark, 2008

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.

*** *** *** *** ***

Read more from Jenny about this story at:

http://www.asstr.org/~BetweenHerLegs/spoilers.html