THE GYNECOLOGIST AND HIS PATIENT
I sat in the sterile waiting room, my legs crossed tightly, my heart pounding so hard I was sure the receptionist could hear it, but none of that mattered, because in a few minutes, l'd be spreading my legs for him. The gynecologist. Dr. Ethan Cole. I'd been stalking his I*******m for a year. Every post, every story. He had hands that looked like they knew exactly what they were doing, and I was about to find out. "Lena?" The nurse called my name, snapping me out of my fantasy. I stood, smoothing my skirt, my pulse throbbing between my thighs. This was it. Time to lie. Just tell him you're in pain. He'll have to touch you. He'll have to look. The nurse led me to the exam room, and I sat on the crinkly paper, my legs dangling, I was already soaking wet. Any minute now, he'd walk in. And then? I'd make sure he never forgot me. The door clicked open, and there he was… Dr Ethan Cole in the flesh. Tall, broad-shouldered, his white coat fitted his body just right. His dark hair was perfectly tousled, like he'd just run his fingers through it, and his lips curled into a knowing smirk the second our eyes met. Oh God. My pussy clenched, a hot pulse of need radiating through me. I crossed my legs tighter, but it was no use-the dampness between my thighs was undeniable. "Lena," he called. The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine. "What brings you in today?" I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. "I've been... having pain," I murmured, shifting on the paper-covered table. "During sex." His gaze flickered… just for a second-down to where my thighs pressed together, then back up. "Pain?" He stepped closer, the scent of his cologne wrapping around me. "Where, exactly?" I bit my lip. "Inside." A slow, dangerous smile curved his lips. "Well, we'll have to take a look, then." He reached for a pair of gloves, the latex snapping against his wrists as he pulled them. My heart pounded. This was really happening. "Lie back for me," he instructed. l obeyed, my heart hammering as I settled onto the table. His fingers brushed the inside of my knee, guiding my legs apart, and I swore I saw his jaw tighten when he saw how wet I already was. "You're very... sensitive," he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow, teasing circle just below my panty line. I whimpered. Fuck. His eyes locked onto mine. "Let's see what's causing you so much... discomfort." And then his fingers slipped beneath the edge of my panties. His fingers were warm through the thin latex as they grazed the soaked fabric of my panties. My breath shuddered out of me, my hips lifting instinctively… just a fraction, but enough to make his smirk deepen. He knew. Of course he knew. "You're very wet for someone in pain," he murmured. His thumb slid into the lace, dragging it aside slowly. The cool air of the exam room hit my exposed flesh, making me shiver. Or maybe it was the way his gaze burned between my legs, taking in every trembling inch of me. "I… it comes and goes," I lied, my voice embarrassingly breathless. "Mmm." His gloved fingers traced my clit and my back arched off the table. "Does it hurt now?" I shook my head, unable to speak. He chuckled. "Good." And then… God… then he pressed a single finger inside me, slow and deep, his eyes locked on mine as he curled it up. My thighs jerked, my nails digging into the crinkling paper beneath me. "Tight," he observed. "But no pain?" I shook my head again, my breath coming in short gasps. "Interesting." A second finger joined the first, stretching me, his palm rubbing against my clit with every thrust. My vision blurred. “Dr. Cole…" His name spilled from my lips. "You can call me Ethan," he said, leaning down, his breath hot against my ear. "Since we're being honest now." I moaned, my hips rocking against his hand. His teeth grazed my earlobe. "You came here for me, didn't you?" I couldn't lie anymore. "Yes." His fingers went deeper into my pussy, his thumb circling my clit in ruthless, perfect strokes. "Then come for me, Lena. Let me hear how much you needed this." And just like that… I shattered. My climax crashed over me, my body bowing off the table as I cried out. He finally pulled away, peeling off the gloves with a sharp snap. "Stand." I didn't think… just obeyed, sliding off the exam table on shaky legs. The crinkling paper stuck to my thighs, and I barely noticed. My entire body was still humming from his touch. His gaze was dark and possessive, as he stepped back, giving me space. "Kneel.” he said with that same low, commanding voice. My knees hit the floor before the word fully registered, the cold tile biting into my skin. But I didn't care. The control, the way he took it so effortlessly… fuck, it only made me wetter. He smirked, as if he'd known all along. As if he'd been waiting for this. His fingers worked the button of his pants, then the zipper, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room. When he pushed the fabric down, his cock sprang free… hard, thick, already glistening at the tip. Jesus. My mouth watered. He gripped himself, stroking slowly his eyes locked on mine. "Suck." I didn't hesitate. Leaning forward, I wrapped my lips around him, taking him deep. He groaned, his fingers tangling in my hair, guiding me. "That's it," he murmured. "Just like that." I thrust in and out, sucking harder, my tongue swirling along his dick. He tasted like salt and the way his hips jerked told me I was doing it right. "Fuck, Lena," he growled, tightening his grip. I moaned around him, the vibration making him curse. "Yeah," he hissed. "You wanted this. Wanted me to use you." I did. God, I did. His thrusts grew rougher, deeper, fucking my mouth with the same precision he'd used between my thighs. I let him, my body pliant, my fingers digging into his hips. Then, suddenly, he pulled back. "Schedule a follow-up," he said, his voice dangerously calm. "In one week."GLORIAHis house was fine.Too fine.A wide two-story with cream walls and black gates, the kind of place you only saw in glossy magazines. Neat hedges, a tiled driveway, a chandelier glowing warm through the front window.I sat there behind the wheel, staring like a fool, my palms slick against the steering.I got out, and my legs trembled as my heels clicked against the pavement, each step feeling heavier than the last. I clutched my purse tighter to my chest, whispering under my breath: “Pick the money. Walk out. That’s all. Pick the money. Walk out.”I reached the gate. It wasn’t even locked… just pushed open with the softest touch, like he’d been expecting me. My stomach twisted.The walk up to the door felt like a mile. My breath grew short, my knees weak, but somehow, my hand still rose to knock.Three soft knocks. My knuckles barely touched the wood.The silence stretched until finally… the door swung open.And there he was.Smirk curling his lips. Tattoos snaking under the co
GLORIA“No,” I blurted, shaking my head before I could stop myself. “Michael, no. I can’t.”His brows pinched. “Why not?”“Because…” My voice cracked. I gripped the blanket tighter, scrambling for words. “We don’t even know this man. Who he is. Where he came from. For all we know he could be a scammer, or… or a kidnapper. And you want me to just walk into his house?”Michael’s face pulled into confusion. “Gloria, what’s wrong with you?”His eyes searched mine like he was trying to understand why I was flaring up so much.Heat rushed to my cheeks. I forced a quick, shaky smile and dropped my gaze. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just… I’m only concerned, that’s all. We’ve worked too hard to put the church in danger.”He let out a low chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re overthinking it, love. I’ve already been to his house. With two other council members, in fact. That’s how we got the first half of the money tonight. He was very professional, very welcoming. Honestly, I was imp
GLORIAAs the image loaded, my stomach flipped.“What the fuck…” I whispered, my voice strangled.It was his dick.The phone slipped from my hand, landing on the table with a dull thud. My breath came sharp, too fast, my whole body breaking into a cold sweat.This was it. This was where the line ended. I needed to stop this. End it. Block him. Report him to Michael… come clean and cut this temptation off before it dragged me deeper.I pushed back my chair and stood abruptly, my knees weak, my hand fumbling for the phone. But when my eyes fell on the dark screen, my pulse spiked again.He was huge.My throat went dry. Heat pooled low in my belly, rushing between my legs. I could tell that I was wet already. “Jesus…” I gasped, pressing a trembling hand to my chest. “No. No, no, no…”I squeezed my thighs together, shame flooding through me.This wasn’t me. This couldn’t be me.I was Michael’s wife. The pastor’s wife. A servant of God.And here I was, standing in the dining room of the pa
GLORIAThe clatter of cutlery filled the silence at the dinner table.Michael ate slowly, eyes on his plate, not on me. Vivian babbled happily beside us, swinging her little legs under, spooning rice into her mouth.I tried to match her cheer, to focus on the food, on anything except the heavy silence that stretched between my husband and me, but I just couldn't.My mind replayed the morning, the sermon, and… most of all… him.The way he’d looked at me.The way he’d said my name.The way I’d given him my number.I stabbed another piece of yam with my fork and chewed too hard, like punishing myself for remembering.After dinner, Michael excused himself, muttering something about preparing notes for a church council meeting. Vivian trailed after the maid, still singing.I stayed at the table, alone, fiddling with my phone out of habit.That’s when it buzzed and a number I didn’t recognize flashed on the screen. My pulse leapt, already knowing who it was.Unknown: This is me. The bad boy
GLORIAThe sermon had already begun, Michael’s voice rising and falling in rhythms from the pulpit. I sat stiffly, my hands clenched in my lap, my body still humming from what I had done that morning in the shower. The shame hadn’t left. Neither had the ache. Every word from my husband’s mouth made me want to scream.I couldn’t take it.With a quiet sigh, I slipped out of the row and walked toward the back, pretending to need fresh air. My heels clicked softly against the tiled floor until I reached the chair near the entrance, a seat no one ever paid much attention to.I sat there, my shoulders slumping, staring at the floor. My mind replayed everything from the morning… his cold eyes, his refusal, my own desperation under the shower. My chest squeezed tight… and then the doors opened.I looked up, startled, and saw a man stepping inside. Definitely not a regular face.He looked nothing like the polished, buttoned-up men who usually filled these seats.Everything about him screamed w
GLORIA Instead of the hunger I was praying for, his face twisted in mild irritation. Like I was a child tugging on his sleeve when he was busy.“Gloria,” he sighed, running a hand over his damp hair. “What are you talking about? Please, not this morning. I need to prepare for today’s sermon.”I blinked at him. My thighs clenched together, my body still aching, and I felt my chest tighten with anger. “Michael… baby, please,” I whispered, sliding off the bed, letting the lace slip ride scandalously high on my thighs as I walked toward him. “We could do a quickie. Just a quick one. I’m so horny right now… so wet.” My voice cracked. “Why have you been starving me?”He froze and then dropped the shirt in his hand. “Starving you?” He turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing like I’d said something sinful. “Gloria, don’t start this. Not today.”I pressed against him anyway, my chest flattening against his back, my fingers trailing down his stomach toward the towel hanging dangerously lo