Page 8 of His Baby

Aw shit. I’ve done fucked up shit in bed before, but most of the time, it was the woman spread out like a tasty feast. It wasn’t me in the vulnerable poses, revealing my all.

But this is a medical exam, so slowly, I prop myself up on my elbows, hard body tense.

“Is this good?” comes my growl.

“A little further,” is her soft coo. “I really think it would be better if you lay down all the way. Abs against the surface, your cheek flat along the exam table.”

Oh shit. But I can’t say no to this gorgeous woman, and slowly, I do as told. My massive form pastes itself against the soft, cushiony leather, rock-hard abs supported by the table with my butt right at the edge of the ledge.

A whispery soft touch grazes against my hip.

“Back up please,” she murmurs, and with a grunt, I obey. Now my ass is protruding almost right up against her, jutting out from the table at a ninety degree angle.

“Legs spread, please,” comes her soft voice. Is it my imagination, or was there a tremble of need in that tone? I want to turn around and ravage her, pressing my lips to her, but unfortunately, all I can do is spread like she asks.

“Like this?” I growl.

The woman softly brushes the paper away from my back, the two halves falling down my sides to reveal me in all my glory. She can see everything now because the only things keeping my gown on are the tie around my neck and the flimsy armholes. From the waist down, I’m fucking nude with that muscled ass in the air and thick, tree-trunk thighs spread to show her everything. Not to mention my dick. Because at this point, it’s not just hard, it’s fucking rock-solid. That soft voice and gentle touch have done this to me, and my balls are already high and tight, dick throbbing angrily.

“Ignore it,” I say roughly. “It happens sometimes.”

She lets out a low giggle.

“Of course,” is that soft coo. “It’s a natural physical reaction.”

Oh shit, what does that mean? Does she mean that this happens to her a lot? Has this happened even once before? Suddenly, I’m filled with rage. What if she’s got a truckload of hot studs who come in for their prostate exams, each and every one of them getting hard when she touches them? Holy shit, is this a common occurrence?

Fortunately, even through the sea of red, my conscience keeps it together. Calm down, tiger, it soothes. Most dudes don’t come for their first prostate exam until their mid-fifties. You’re only here at forty because of your family history.

I take a deep breath, trying to process. Because it’s true. Prostate screening only kicks in when a man hits fifty or so, so most of Mel’s patients are probably senior citizens. It’s most likely a fucking gross sight. They’re probably hairy and wrinkled, with buttocks that sag and that musty, old-man smell. Shit, if you wanted me to touch some wizened seventy-year old ogre, I’d probably puke first before smashing you into the ground.

So I take another deep breath, calming myself. She didn’t say that her patients regularly get hard-ons, the voice in my head speaks again. She just said that physical reactions are normal and it’s nothing to be ashamed about.

I nod to myself before looking at her over one shoulder.

“Is this good?” comes my low rumble as I lower myself further. “We ready to start?”

She smiles at me, cheeks pink, and her huge breasts heave a bit with each breath. Oh shit, the female’s turned on too, and I can see her perky nipples poking out from beneath her blouse. Oh yeah, that white lab jacket’s gone and she’s wearing a tight dress with the sleeves rolled up.

“Let me just pull the lamp over,” she mewls, sitting down and positioning the stool so that it’s right between my spread legs. Fuck. I can almost feel her warm breath blowing against my ass, the female’s that close. The scrape of wheels sound, and a light is flicked on in back of me, highlighting my sculpted ass.

“Ohhhh,” is her slight murmur of appreciation.

Any other man would be embarrassed but instead, I just smirk.

“I thought you did a lot of these exams,” is my low growl.

She blushes, her eyes flickering to mine for a moment.

“I do,” she replies softly. “But not a lot of guys look as … as ….”

“As what?” I rasp, brows raised. “Finish your sentence, sweetheart.”

Her eyes flicker to my quickly before dropping back to my ass. By now, I’m positive I can feel her warm breath against my anus, and my pleats tighten instinctively, begging to be touched.

“Melissa,” I growl again. “Finish your sentence. Don’t make me ask twice.”

Those big brown eyes turn to me again, and this time they hold my blue gaze.

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