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My hips buck when his mouth closes over my clit, but he is still being gentle, still sensitive to my virginal state. I let out a sound I’ve never heard myself make before, an expression of innocent pleasure as the heat of his lips and his tongue begins to bathe my sex with molten heat and I feel my pussy start to flower with its own juices.
I have been wet before. Felt the need to touch myself before, but none of the times I rubbed myself to release were anything like this. I never felt myself so completely enthralled by lust.
“You want this to stop anytime, we’ll stop,” he says, breaking the seal around my clit and the spell.
“Oh my god what are you fucking doing!?” I whine the question at him. He has left my pussy blazing with need just to tell me something I already know. I can stop any man any time doing anything. I’m not afraid of him or what he’s doing, and I don’t need to be treated like a little snowflake… “OW!”
I gasp as his fingers come down across my wet pussy in a swift swat. He spanked me between my thighs. He punished me in the place I’m only supposed to feel pleasure. I am about to curse him out when his fingers clasp gently, but firmly around the bud of my clit, getting my attention and holding me in thrall.
“Language,” he growls softly. “You’ll respect me when you speak.”
“Even in bed?”
“Especially in bed,” he says, making a fresh thrill of excitement go flashing through me. I like the other side of the doctor, the authoritarian, rough man capable of imposing his will on me. It feels completely different when Doctor Ares does it. Any other man tried to do this to me, I’d break his nose. For Tom, I melt.
“Understand?” He pinches my clit just hard enough to make me nod, then pulls his fingers away from that tight bud and instead pushes them inside me just a fraction, two thick male intrusions spreading my body.
The sound I make is post-verbal. I love the way this feels. I love lying here, spread for the doctor, being examined by him in the most intimate way. He knows my body. He owns my body. And he is claiming me with an expert touch which leaves me quivering.
I am tight, but he is patient. He twists his fingers a fraction, lets me feel the way my body moves with his. There is something inside me, a barrier which keeps him out, but not for long. It is melting, tearing, slipping away in the face of the gentle but insistent pressure he is applying.
He pulls away, but I reach down for his wrist and try to pull him back inside me. I don’t want him to stop just because I haven’t had a man before. I want him to break down the barrier inside me. I want him to take me and make me feel all the things I can sense welling inside. It is raw instinct which drives me to writhe and grasp and…
“Easy,” he purrs. “We’re taking this slow, remember?”
“I don’t want it slow,” I whine as he pulls his hand free and leaves me empty.
“You need it slow,” he says, the slight hint of a growl in his voice. He is all authority now, firm, but calm as he rubs the flat of his hand over my pussy, rubbing me gently, settling my carnal complaints. “I want you to know there’s a lot we can do that doesn’t involve the part of me you grabbed.”
“I want that part of you. I want all of you. If you get inside me, maybe I’ll be…”
“What,” he says, prompting me when I trail off.
“Maybe I’ll be normal.”
“Normal isn’t anything,” he says, cupping and holding my pussy. “Nobody is normal.”
“But I am so weird. I know. I want to be normaler. I want to have all the experiences I’m supposed to have.”
“So you want to have sex just not to be left out of having sex,” he smiles. “There’s nothing more normal than that, but it’s not a good reason to do it.”
“Do you not want to be with me?”
“I want to be with you,” he reassures me. “But for the right reasons, not because you feel bad about yourself, or because you think having sex will fix something. You should have sex because you want to be connected with another person, and experience that side of them.”
“I do want to experience that side of you,” I assure him, grinding my hips into his palm. I want to be connected to Tom. From the first moment I met him, I think I knew he might be my way out. I need to be with him. “Please,” I whimper. “Don’t make me beg.”
