“Doctor Blumfield, I don’t...”
“I’m your doctor. We have to be frank. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
I gulped. Hard. Oh holy shit is Walter ever going to be pissed.
“When’s the last time he really fucked you? I mean rammed you so hard this pretty little pussy turned red? Slam-fucked you so hard you couldn’t walk?”
Feeling myself blush, I gasped. “Doctor! I don’t know what that has to do with anything!”
“Yes you do,” he shot back, “you know exactly what I’m talking about. You know there’s nothing wrong. You knew it when you felt this juice run down between your legs. The only thing wrong with you is that you need a man to take care of you. To make you feel special. Does that sound about right?”
There was no way I could just agree with him, even though I knew he was right.
“If he can’t do it for you, you need someone who can. I know what you’re thinking, Alex. You’re thinking how good it would feel to have me between your legs. You’re imagining what a real man’s cock feels like, aren’t you? Your filthy little mind probably started to come up with scenarios while you were bored in the waiting room.”
Before I could answer, he shushed me.
“I can do that for you. This isn’t something I do normally. There’s something about you though. But, quid pro quo, Alex. I give, I get. Do you understand?”
I couldn’t do anything but nod. He had me from the instant those twinkling brown eyes flickered across my body
. I knew that, and so did he.
“We’ll have a follow-up in a week. At that point, I’ll either decide to keep our deal going, or cut it off. If I like what I see, we might have an arrangement. But for now, I’ll show you that none of this has anything to do with you.”
He brushed a gloved hand over my leg, down my shin. “Alex, you are a beautiful, fascinating woman. Why do you think your husband’s lack of ability to excite you is in any way your problem?”
As I considered his question, Dr. Blumfield slid his fingers back up my leg, along the side this time. He lingered behind my knee, turning figure eights and watching my eyes, waiting for a response. I started to speak, and then closed my mouth again.
“What is it, Alex?” he said, his voice turned up at the end. He sounded genuinely concerned. “You’re safe with me. That’s how this works.”
I opened my mouth again, words almost falling from my tongue. Almost.
His hand moved up my leg. Little tingles swam up my body, tickling my slit and warming my belly.
“He… Walter – he convinced me it was entirely my fault. He made me believe that all the problems were me. That there was something wrong with me. ‘I haven’t changed’ he kept saying. Well that isn’t true at all. He has changed! He’s out of shape, can’t keep me excited the way he used to do. And worse than that, he’s…”
Dr. Blumfield’s fingers slid up one side of my sex and down the other. He drew slow, patient circles that collected my moisture at the bottom of each stroke and spread it around my pussy, glistening and sweet.
“That’s fine, Alex. You can talk to me. I understand. But you know that it is Walter who is the problem. The way your tight little pussy wants me to stick my fingers inside, how you keep trying to wiggle closer speaks volumes. You’re beautiful. Your face, your body – admit what you already know. Admit out loud that Walter is a disappointment.”
Those fingers pushed apart my folds and I felt the smallest amount of pressure when he moved them inside my hole. Alex! What are you doing? Walter is going to kill you! Walter is-
“Worthless!” I gasped as Dr. Blumfield’s fingers worked inside me, soft latex pinching ever so slightly. “Walter is worthless! I love him, I want to be with him, but he just can’t please me. Not like, not like…”
“Not like what, Alex? Not like who?” His voice sounded like a blanket being pulled up to my chin. Warmth spread out of me and up, making my nipples prickle harder still than they had before. His fingers slid deeper and his thumb came to rest just beside my aching clit. Oh how I wanted him to grind that palm against me, drive it in over and over. He curled his long fingers inside me, dragging them along my front wall, every time hitting that one place and making my toes curl up in the stirrups.
“Not like,” I swallowed, and took a long, deep breath, “Not like you.”
As those words escaped my lips, Dr. Blumfield pushed a third finger inside my pussy to join the other two and ran his thumb hard over my button. “Not like me? What about him is not like me?” Pushing his fingers deeper, grinding my clit back and forth underneath the pad of his thumb, the doctor put a little pressure on my asshole with the tip of his last finger. The instant before it slipped past my ring, I felt an intense, wonderful yearning.
“Pl-please push it deeper, Doctor Blumfield,” I begged, “I’ve never felt anything like this before. Please.”
He pulled away. “Not until you answer me. You answer and I’ll do what you ask. Now tell me, what is it about me that you wish Walter had?”
“He’s – Walter, he’s kind and gentle and decent most of the time. But, he just,” I paused and took a breath. Dr. Blumfield put just a tiny bit of pressure on my aching little nib. Then he stopped and stared. “Well, he’s tired all the time. He never treats me like I need to be treated.”
“And how is that?”