Epilogue
ONE YEAR LATER…
HOLLY AND DANNY PLAY DOCTOR
Danny
It’s just past two in the morning when my phone beeps. I only got back from a two-day board meeting in Reno at dinner time so I’m dead to the world, but I’m particularly attuned to the cymbal swell that is Holly’s ringtone.
I reach for it before I’m even fully awake, squinting at the bright light from the screen to discover a message.
We bought a place of our own a couple of months ago and though our lives are busy – I gave up the band now the housing project is picking up momentum and Holly’s life is still ruled by her shifts – we are thriving as a couple.
Are you awake?
I smile at the screen.
I am now. Of course. Thinking about what I’m going to do to you in the morning when you get home.
Three dots appear as she types her reply.
My dick twitches as I wait. It’s not the first time she’s woken me for some sexting, and I love how bold she gets when she doesn’t have to say any of those words out loud.
Although I have managed to corrupt her a lot this past year – she can be quite filthy when she has a mind to.
Can’t wait till then. Can you come see me now?
Can I get my ass out of bed, go to the hospital and do bad things to the woman I love? Fucking A I can – I’m already kicking off the sheet. But she doesn’t have to know that. I smile as I tap my reply.
Well… I’m very tired… would it be worth my while, Doc?
I send the message and throw the phone on the bed as I grab the chinos and T-shirt I’d stepped out of several hours ago and throw them on. When I’m dressed, I scoop the phone off the mattress.
On the screen is a titty pic. Holly’s taken off her shirt and bra, slung her stethoscope around her neck, and snapped a picture. God, I love this woman. My mouth waters at her perky mocha nipples, and my dick roars to life.
I’ll be there in ten.
I stride out of the bedroom and grab the keys off the counter. The phone chimes again.
Take elevator to eleven. Go through push doors. Ignore closed signs. I’ll be in room three.
I frown at the screen. I thought the hospital only had ten floors? It’s a mysterious request, and my blood stirs. More dots dance on the screen before another text appears.
Message me when you’re pulling into parking lot.
My hand shakes in anticipation. I don’t know what she has planned for me and I don’t care – only one thing matters, and I tap it out now.
Be naked.
I’m pushing past the closed signs on eleven in twelve minutes.
A dark corridor stretches ahead of me. The only source of light is a smudge on the linoleum floor down the other end and I head towards it, my legs eating up the distance, my groin wound tighter than a guitar string, my blood thick and hot in my veins.
The rooms on either side count down from twenty, and all the doors are open as I pass. They’re full of ancient-looking equipment – from beds to IV poles to all kinds of machinery. The corridor is also lined with discarded gear. It must be the place equipment comes to die.
The room the light comes from is number three, and my pulse picks up as I turn into it and pause on the threshold.
There’s more equipment crammed in here, but right in the back corner, a light is shining.
It’s a free-standing lamp. The light source is at the end of an angled arm, which is currently hovering over the top of what looks like one of those narrow examination beds.
It’s hard to tell properly from here. The bed has been placed diagonally in the corner, and all I can see is the underside of the top half, which has been raised to almost ninety degrees.
Like the rest of the equipment I’ve seen here, it doesn’t look new.
The metal is pockmarked, and it seems to be of very basic construction, like something from a black-and-white photograph.
Holly’s not here. ‘Doc?’
Suddenly, a fuzz of dark hair appears at the top of the raised portion of the bed. The head turns, and Holly is peeping out over the edge. The usual flood of emotion I experience whenever I see her hits me in the chest.
‘I thought you’d never get here.’
There’s impatience in her voice and that note of huskiness I’ve come to know so well. She’s really turned on. My cock stiffens.
‘How long have you been lying there waiting for me?’ I ask as I pick a path through the equipment. All I can see is from her nose up, but I just know she’s naked over there, and it suddenly feels like a hundred miles away.
‘Too long. I almost started without you.’
I laugh as I reach the raised end. She’s turned back and all I can see is the top of her head again, so I walk around. The sight that greets me stops my breath.
She’s lying on the narrow bed, naked except for her stethoscope.
Her tits are high and full, her nipples hard and flushed with arousal, and I wonder if she’s been playing with them while she waited.
Her dark hair is in some kind of updo. A few tendrils have escaped and brush her neck, but my eyes fall to the bell of the stethoscope, brushing her cleavage like it had in the titty pic.
One of the earpieces kisses the mocha circle surrounding her nipple.
But the most fascinating part is the way Holly’s legs are positioned.
I walk to the end of the bed to get a closer look.
They’re primly together but bent at the knees, her calves resting in mounted stirrups, which are attached to a slide bar just under where the mattress abruptly ends.
Her bare ass hangs over the edge a little.
Christ… this is like every sick fantasy I’ve ever had, rolled into one.
‘I’m so pleased you could make it, Doctor,’ she says, all high and breathy, some of which I suspect is deliberate, some of it not. She toys with the earpieces of the stethoscope. ‘I have this terrible ache between my legs.’
Slowly, with some squeaking of metal, the stirrups separate. As do her legs. In seconds she is wide open, her legs well and truly out of the way, and I’m staring at her almost-bare pussy, her inner thighs glistening in the light from the lamp behind.
‘Holy fuck,’ I whisper. My cock is so hard now I’m pretty sure it’s entered a state of rigor mortis.
‘Oh, hurry, Doctor, please. The pain is getting worse.’
I blow out an unsteady breath as my gaze treks up her body. She’s fucking gorgeous and she’s all mine.
Holly
I can barely breathe as Danny’s hot gaze brands me as his. My pussy – yes, pussy – pulses at the heat in those blue eyes, and I suppress the urge to squirm at the sudden, delicious gleam that enters them.
‘Never fear, Miss Vincent,’ he says, his voice deeper and gruffer than normal. ‘I’m sure I can cure it.’
My heart trips as he slips into his role.
‘Oh, could you?’ I toy with the earpieces of the stethoscope, and a hot wave of wantonness rolls through my belly as his eyes zero in on the movement.
The urge to arch my back rides me hard, but I suppress it as one of my fingers accidentally brushes my nipple.
‘I’d be ever so grateful if you could, Doctor. I can pay you.’
‘We’ll talk about payment after,’ he says, dragging his gaze from my chest as he steps into the space between my legs I created when I spread them.
‘Yes. Thank you, Doctor.’ His eyes trek a path down my inner thighs now, and I swear it smoulders in their wake.
‘Do you have a fever down there?’ he asks in such a clinically detached way I’m glad I’m already horizontal. His gaze stops when it reaches the juncture of my thighs, and he takes his time examining it.
My breathing is thick as soup in my lungs. ‘It’s very hot down there.’
He nods. ‘I’m going to have to take your temperature.’
‘But… you don’t have your thermometer with you.’
He raises his gaze to mine and smiles. Clinically, cynically, like the doctor he’s pretending to be, not laid back like my Danny. ‘Did you know, Miss Vincent, that the male penis is the most accurate thermometer in the world?’
My thighs tremble. ‘No… I didn’t, Doctor.’
‘Oh yes.’ He rips his zip down. It’s loud in the silence of the long-deserted ward eleven. My breath hitches. ‘Just hold still now, okay? Let’s find out just how hot you are.’
I catch only a glimpse of his straining cock before he slowly inserts it inside of me. He doesn’t put on a condom. We both went through testing months ago.
His eyes shut briefly, and so do mine. My hand falls from the stethoscope, and I bite back a moan as his girth splits me right up the middle, and he settles himself to the hilt.
We’ve done this hundreds of times this last year, and I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this moment as his eyes, a hot tub of desire, flick open and capture mine.
It takes my breath away every time.
‘Oh yesss.’ His voice is a low hiss. ‘You’re very hot. You definitely have a fever.’
I pant, shift against the mattress, and bite my lip to stop from crying out. ‘Is that bad, Doctor?’
‘It can be.’
I crinkle my brow in concern. ‘Is there a cure?’
‘Yes.’ He does that clinical nod again, like his dick isn’t still sitting hard and high inside me being used as a human thermometer. ‘There are a couple of options, Miss Vincent.’
‘Which one would you recommend, Doctor?’
‘The internal application of male semen is the one I usually suggest.’
I suck in a breath, loving how Danny is getting into this.
It’s beyond my wildest imaginings. When I messaged him, I just needed to see him, needed to feel him inside me, a quick fuck somewhere quiet because he’s been away and it’s been such a torment for my body that I just can’t seem to get enough of him.
But this… this is freaking epic.
‘Okay.’ I toy with the stethoscope again, my heart just about leaping out of my chest I’m so freaking turned on. ‘Would you be willing to supply that for me?’
‘Of course.’ He gives me a stern look, as if I’m questioning his Hippocratic Oath. ‘I am duty bound to provide for my patients.’
‘I’ll pay whatever.’
‘That’s not important for now. What’s critically important is that you must lie very still.
You mustn’t move or shift or cry out, even if, during the process, you climax.
It’s better for the treatment if you do, but for the most effective outcome, the semen must have a passive entry into your body. Do you understand, Miss Vincent?’
Oh fuck… I love him and I hate him all at once. I’m probably going to have the most intense orgasm of my life, and he wants me to totally internalise it.
If he thinks I won’t get my revenge for this, he’s wrong.
‘Well?’ His voice might be low, but it cracks like a whip, and my internal muscles clamp around him hard.
‘Yes, Doctor.’
‘Good.’ He nods, satisfied, and if it wasn’t for his cock jammed inside me and the tremble of his hands as they slide down my thighs, I could almost believe he really was just doing his job.
‘Now, hold on to the sides of the couch, Miss Vincent. And I’ll begin.’
I grip the sides and bite down on the gasp that pushes against my vocal cords as he withdraws.
A ghost of a smile touches his mouth, but it’s gone again and then he hammers me.
I was expecting him to tease me slowly with his cock until I disobey him and beg for him to finish the job.
But Danny knows how quickly I can be called away, and he’s obviously not taking any chances.
My tits rock and the stethoscope bounces as he drives into me, and he doesn’t take his eyes off them.
He just thrusts and thrusts and thrusts, my position in the stirrups just the right angle for him to hit my G spot over and over and over, and he doesn’t even need to touch my clit.
He’s building quickly, and I’m building with him, fighting the urge to move and speak every step of the way.
Fighting the urge to arch my back and lift my hips to meet each stroke. To twist and tweak my nipples. To pant and gasp and moan as ripples spread outwards from my belly button and pulse through me. My eyes widen as the climax roars up from the base of my spine, innervating every inch of my body.
I cut off the threatening cry, sucking air in and out through my nostrils so loud it sounds like a tornado’s landed. My heart races like a train, and my body trembles, fibrillating against the mattress as I deny it the movement it craves.
He watches me fight the powerful dictates of my orgasm as he reaches his own.
But he doesn’t come quiet. Oh no. He groans and mutters, ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ as he buries deep and empties inside me, pulsing in and out in small, precise movements which make me want to bite and holler and scream but which I suck up, morphing my orgasm into an intensity that takes me to a whole other plane.
When it’s finally over, I am wrecked. How on earth I’m going to go back to the ER to work, I have no idea.
‘Good job, Miss Vincent.’ Danny, whose breathing has just about recovered, pulls out, and I do moan this time as he zips up. ‘I recommend internal application of semen morning and night for the next week.’
If I wasn’t so spaced out I’d laugh. So I just say, ‘Yes, Doctor.’
He pats me on the knee then – on the freaking knee – and says, ‘I’ll see you in a few hours for your next treatment.’
And he leaves.
I blink, amazed anew at Danny’s ability to recover so quickly, even though I shouldn’t be after all this time.
I’m lying spread-eagled in stirrups, possibly forever, if I can’t get my legs to cooperate, and he’s walking away.
I don’t even know my own name at the moment, and he’s walking upright, the sound of his boots on the linoleum gradually fading.
There are two things I do know.
Number one – I’m going to love that man forever. And number two – morning can’t come soon enough.