Oh, Doctor!

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Red lace? Or maybe the black with white polka-dots? Hmm, no, I thought to myself as I rummaged through the drawer, I’ll go with the blue satin today. I took just a moment to admire myself in the mirror as I put on the matching bra and panties, then quickly pulled on my scrubs and sensible clinic shoes and headed out the door.

It was the least I could do to enliven my otherwise routine-filled day. To put it bluntly, I was in a rut. A sad statement for a 26 year old doctor, I know. But let’s just say that working for the HMO wasn’t exactly the excitement I had in mind when I’d started out on the path towards my dream career. Even in medical school, when I was doing my residency in the inner-city ER, I was filled with anticipation as I went off to work each day, never knowing who I would meet or what lives I would have the chance to save. Now, not so much. I spent just as much time with paperwork as with patients, and, believe it or not, never got to discover a cure for an exotic disease. Most days, it was a steady stream of little kids with runny noses, their fathers asking surreptitiously for a prescription for little blue pills.

On the bright side, my job did translate into a nice paycheck, and that meant I always had some disposable income to play with. Recently, I’d made a habit of fairly regular visits to my favorite little lingerie shop, building up quite a collection of sets of matching undergarments. There was something about it, knowing that I looked sexy under my unisex scrubs, that kept me going through the stream of patients, meetings, and paperwork each day.

And it didn’t hurt that it put a spark back in my relationship with Jacob. We’d been together for three years, living together for two, and both had jobs that left us exhausted in the evening. But lately, I’d made a habit of sending him a text message mid-day, telling him exactly what I’d picked out to wear that day. Often it was something new, something he hadn’t even seen yet. On those days especially, it seemed he couldn’t get home fast enough to watch me strip for him, and we’d enjoy a quickie before crashing.

Not to mention the fun I had picking out the outfits. Hmm, should I share this part of the story? Oh, what the hell. See, I had a special friend at the lingerie shop – a 22 year old bi-curious salesgirl who made a point of joining me in the dressing room to give me her honest opinion on each ensemble. She was the one who had driven home the importance of matching – not just color, but fabric, pattern, texture – something which Jacob let me know he very much appreciated. Little did he know who my teacher had been…

She insisted on undressing me and helping me into each bra, every pair of panties, with much fondling along the way. Sometimes, she would ask me to model for her as she fingered her clit, her eyes moving over my body as she pleasured herself. We never went further than that, as she needed to be able to jump out of the dressing room whenever another customer entered the store. But it was still a thrill, always leaving me wanting more as I returned home, and always giving me a pleasant memory the next time I put the outfit on.

It also didn’t hurt that my little lingerie buddy and Jacob both loved to tell me how hot I looked. I’m 5’8″ and fit, with perfect C-cup tits, long shapely legs, ataşehir escort bayan wavy blonde hair just past my shoulders, and big green eyes. Jacob seemed to like me best in blacks or reds, but my personal favorite in the naughty underwear category was blue – just the shade I had chosen to wear today.

“Doctor, your next patient is ready,” the nurse had popped her head into my cubicle with her trademark gentle knock and warm smile, and I finished up the e-mail I was typing. What a day. While you were reading up on my lingerie habit, I was taking 10 minutes to eat the sack lunch I had been hungry for three hours before. It had been a long day full of patients and committee meetings. Did I mention the committees? I’ll spare you, except to say that HMOs can’t seem to function without putting every single doctor on at least three committees. I wanted the day to be over, but there was one more patient standing between me and my exit.

It was in this cranky mood that I went into the exam room, my nose buried in the patient’s file as I greeted him with my usual, “Hello there, what seems to be the trouble?” I could see from his chart that he was 43 years old, with a history of excellent health. 6’1″, 190 pounds, and notes from another doctor indicating that he was into fitness – everything from running to biking to rock climbing.

It was his voice that brought me out of my fog, and I looked up to see that he was a handsome man, with striking blue eyes. As he responded, I could tell that his voice was normally deep and powerful, but currently affected by what sounded like a nasty chest cold. “Well, I’ve been congested for a couple of weeks. Thought it was just allergies or a cold, but it doesn’t seem to be going away, so I thought I should come in just in case.”

I smiled sympathetically, then replied, “It’s probably best that you did, are you having any other symptoms? Headaches, anything like that?” I paused to give him a chance to answer as I began my exam.

“Now that you mention it, I have had a few nasty headaches, just in the past few days. I’ve just been feeling kind of lousy, the congestion and sniffling leaves me tired at the end of the day.”

As I was thinking to myself how silly it was for the nurses to have asked him to change into a gown for chest congestion, I asked my next question, “And have you tried anything so far to treat your symptoms? Just want to make sure I’m factoring in any over-the-counter stuff you may be taking before I prescribe anything else?”

“Oh, no, I really don’t like to take anything unless I absolutely have to. Just been drinking lots of liquids, trying to get some extra rest.”

“OK, sounds great. Open wide,” I said as I looked into his mouth, then moved on to his ears, looking for any obvious signs of infection. “Anything else you think I should know?”

“Well, there is one thing that always makes me feel better when I feel like this, and I haven’t had an opportunity to try that remedy.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“A great blow job.”

In spite of all of my training to expect just about anything to come out of a patient’s mouth, I immediately blushed, and had to make a conscious effort to stop my jaw from dropping.

“Well, um,” I stammered, trying to maintain my role as the professional, “that’s not uncommon, escort kadıköy you know – the rush of endorphins, the hormones that are released during sex, it all contributes to strengthen the immune system.” Just as I regained my composure and managed to spit out this relatively intelligent-sounding sentence, I felt his eyes moving over my body. “And you say you haven’t had the opportunity to try that remedy?”

“That’s right. See, my standards are quite high. I won’t let just anyone suck my cock. She’s gotta be hot.”

Was this guy for real? Did he make a habit of teasing doctors? Was he just trying to get a rise out of me? As soon as I had that particular thought, I glanced in the direction of his crotch and saw that he was the one with something rising. And I didn’t need to be a doctor to see that he wasn’t wearing anything under the flimsy gown.

“So, doctor, what would you suggest?” His eyes met mine, and I blushed again, realizing he’d caught me checking out his bulge. It was obvious he wasn’t bluffing. He was asking for a prescription for a blow job. Only one thing remained to be determined – was I hot enough to meet his standards, or was he hoping I’d recommend some slut from the pharmacy?

I was in way over my head in the witty banter department, so I decided to proceed with actions, rather than words. I reached up, grabbing the corner of the curtain which hung next to the exam table, and gave it a tug so that it surrounded us in a veil of privacy. There was always the possibility that a nurse or another doctor could enter the room – a thought which caused my heart to race – but if the curtain was pulled, it would be assumed that an exam was taking place, and we wouldn’t be interrupted.

I paused for a moment, locking my eyes on his. When he didn’t make a move to stop me, I proceeded. I pulled my top off in one quick motion, tossing it to the floor next to me. Then, a bit slower, I slipped out of my pants, standing before him now in nothing but my matching satin blue bra and panties. He smiled to indicate his approval, and began stroking his growing cock through the thin fabric of the gown.

“Just one thing, doctor, before you begin. I’m going to need to know your first name.”

A simple question, yes, but oh so naughty. Every day at work, everyone – even those colleagues who had become friends – addressed me by my title. Now, suddenly, brusquely, I was being addressed simply as a woman. More specifically, as a slut who would suck a stranger’s cock on command.

“It’s Melody. Anything else you need to know?”

“Nope, that’s it. On your knees, please,” he directed, kindly but firmly, as he stepped down from the exam table and stood before me, pulling up the gown to reveal his bulging cock.

I quickly obliged, bringing myself to eye-level with his manhood, and proceeded to give all of my attention to the task at hand. In one long, slow, smooth motion, I placed my lips around the tip of his cock and gradually worked him into my mouth until I had completely engulfed his entire length, gagging a bit as he reached the back of my throat. Maintaining my slow tempo, I released him and took him in entirely several more times, until I felt him begin to move his hips in rhythm with my motions.

I now began moving faster, taking less length into my bostancı escort mouth as I used my hands on the base of his shaft. He enjoyed this for a few moments before reaching down to push my hands away, grabbing my hair and shoving me down so that I was again taking his entire length into my throat. I struggled to keep from making too much noise, but I loved his aggressive touch, and was moaning with pleasure at each stroke.

“Oh yeah, Melody, you like that, huh? You like it when I force myself deep into your throat?”

I nodded in agreement, unable to speak, and looked up at him with my big green eyes.

He continued, “I suppose you’d like a little attention as well?” He freed me to pull away long enough to answer.

“Oh no, this is all about you. We can’t evaluate the effectiveness of the blow job therapy unless we follow through to the conclusion.”

“Very well then, continue.”

I got back to work with renewed enthusiasm, completely turned on by the scenario. A colleague could walk in at any moment to discover me engaged in completely inappropriate behavior with a patient, but I didn’t care. We – this stranger and I – had quickly invented the role of slutty cock-sucking doctor, and I was getting off on playing it to the hilt.

I now cupped his balls in one hand, and began jacking him off with my other as I firmly sucked the last few inches of his cock. He clearly loved this combination of motions, so I stuck with it, gradually increasing my tempo as I responded to his growing excitement. After a few minutes, he reached down and began fondling my tits, gently at first, but then more firmly, and finally squeezing my nipples to the point of pain.

No complaints from me, though, as I simply bobbed up and down on him with more enthusiasm, groaning with a mix of pain and pleasure as he moved closer to his climax. He was pounding into me now, thrusting his hips powerfully forward as I struggled to keep his throbbing length in my mouth.

“Where do you want me to cum,” he hissed breathlessly. Although he had been in control up to this point, I jumped through the door which his question opened. I knew exactly what I wanted, and knew the logistics of the exam room well enough to make it happen.

I gave his cock one last, long suck, before letting him out of my mouth and jumping to my feet. As he watched, I walked to the exam table, placed my forearms flat against its surface, spread my legs, and looked back at him over my shoulder, in a clear invitation to take me from behind.

He needed no further instructions, as he came up behind me, moved the fabric of my panties away from my dripping-wet pussy, and slowly pressed his long, hard cock into me. I groaned loudly as he filled me, reaching down to finger my own clit as he began pounding in and out. I knew he wouldn’t last long – but neither would I, turned on as I was. When he reached around and grabbed me by the tits, using them both to pleasure me and as a handle while he fucked me savagely, I could feel my orgasm beginning.

As my pussy clenched around his cock, he whispered in my ear, “Yes, Melody, yes, yes,” and I felt his cum shoot deep into me. He collapsed against me, and we both stayed there for a few minutes, panting against the exam table.

When we finally stood up and reached for our clothes to begin dressing, he said with a smile, “Well, it seems that the old treatment worked wonders once again!”

“Glad to have helped! And thank you, I’ll have to keep that treatment in mind for troublesome cases in the future.”

“Oh no, doctor, thank you.”

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