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Chapter 13:Mom's minivan
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2025-12-04 23:56:25
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Private Lessons From A Doctor Chapter 13:Mom's minivan
MabelSunday family game night at my parents’ house started at six sharp, because Mom believed in “tradition” the way other people believe in oxygen. Adrian arrived at 5:47 wearing the navy sweater I’d clawed off him less than twenty-four hours ago in the hotel suite. He looked perfectly respectable: hair neat, smile easy, hickeys hidden under the collar I’d personally checked in the hotel mirror this morning.I looked like the good daughter in a soft pink sundress and cardigan. No one could see the bruises on my inner thighs shaped like his fingerprints, or the fact I was still swollen and sticky from how many times he’d filled me since Friday night.We lasted exactly seventy-three minutes.Mom had us playing Taboo in the living room. Dad and Adrian against Mom and me. Every time Adrian leaned forward to grab a card, the sleeve of his sweater rode up and I saw the faint teeth marks I’d left on his forearm. My clit throbbed so hard I had to cross my legs.At 7:16 Mom declared we nee
Private Lessons From A Doctor Chapter 12:The Hotel Suite
MabelWe needed distance from the city, from the clinic, from the security footage that still hadn’t been deleted by Saturday noon. Adrian texted me at 2:17 p.m.: Pack an overnight bag. Black dress. No panties. I’m picking you up at six.He pulled up in the matte-black Audi he never drove to family events (too flashy, too him). I slid into the passenger seat wearing the dress he’d bought me last month: backless, high slit, thin silk that clung to every curve. He looked me over once, slow, then reached across the console and dragged two fingers up my bare thigh, under the hem, straight to my pussy.“Good girl,” he murmured when he found me already wet. Then he licked his fingers clean and pulled away from the curb like nothing happened.Two hours north, the hotel rose out of the pines like something out of a fever dream: glass and cedar, floor-to-ceiling windows, a private drive that curved through old-growth forest so no one saw which car dropped you at the lobby. He’d booked the pe
Private Lessons From A Doctor Chapter 11:The clinic After Hours
MabelThe clinic was supposed to close at seven. By 7:12 the last patient had shuffled out, the receptionist had locked the front doors, and the overhead lights clicked off one by one, leaving only the soft amber glow of the exit signs and the low hum of the refrigeration units in the lab.Adrian texted me from his office: [Chart room. Now.]I was already soaked. Had been since lunch, when he’d cornered me in the supply closet for a thirty-second kiss that tasted like spearmint and danger, his hand sliding under my skirt just long enough to feel how wet his morning voice note had made me. The note was still saved on my phone—twenty seconds of him stroking himself in the shower, growling “niece” right before he came. I’d listened to it four times on the drive over.I slipped through the side hallway in the scrubs he’d told me to wear—no bra, no panties, hair in a messy bun so he could wrap it around his fist later. My sneakers were silent on the waxed floor. The building felt diffe
Private Lessons From A Doctor Chapter 10:No more rules
MabelI woke up to the smell of coffee and the low throb between my legs that told me I’d been fucked thoroughly, repeatedly, and perfectly.Adrian was already in the kitchen, shirtless, sweatpants slung so low I could see the V-cut that made my mouth water. He slid a mug across the counter without looking up from his phone.“Morning, little niece,” he said, voice rough from sleep and last night’s screaming.I took the coffee with one hand and flipped him off with the other. “Call me that again and I’m biting you.”“Promise?” He grinned, put the phone down, and prowled around the island toward me.I was wearing his T-shirt and nothing else. He backed me up against the fridge, took the mug out of my hand, set it aside, and dropped to his knees.“Adrian, it’s nine a.m.—”“Shut up,” he muttered against my thigh, pushing the shirt up to my waist. “I woke up dreaming about how you taste with my come still inside you.”He spread my legs and licked one slow stripe through my folds. I was alr
Private Lessons From A Doctor Chapter 9:Sunday dinner
MabelI was already soaked before I even pulled into my parents’ driveway.Adrian had started the mind-fuck at 10 a.m. with a single text:[Adrian]Wear the pale-blue sundress. No panties. I want to know you’re bare under that table while you smile at your mom.I’d stared at my phone so long the screen went black. Then I’d shaved, lotioned, and slipped into that exact dress (light cotton, little buttons all the way down the front, skirt that flared and stopped mid-thigh). When the breeze hit me as I stepped out of the car, I felt the air slide between my legs like a promise.Mom greeted me with a hug and a “You look glowing, honey!” Dad kissed my cheek and took the peach pie I’d baked at three in the morning because I couldn’t sleep. And then I walked into the dining room and saw him.Adrian stood by the window, sunlight pouring over him like he’d ordered it personally. White linen shirt, sleeves rolled up, topily casual. His eyes flicked down my body (slow, deliberate) and the corner
Private Lessons From A Doctor Chapter 8:Private lessons
The first Tuesday I showed up at Adrian’s house with a bottle of wine and a stomach full of butterflies. He opened the door in sweatpants and a faded Duke Med T-shirt, hair still damp from the shower, and the look he gave me (like he was already undressing me with his eyes) made my knees wobble.“No clothes after the first ten minutes, remember?” he said, taking the wine without breaking eye contact.I rolled my eyes to hide how fast my pulse was racing. “Hi to you too.”He laughed, pulled me inside, and kissed me hello against the door until I forgot my own name.That was how it started.Tuesday and Thursday nights became sacred. I’d text him when I was five minutes away (always something stupid like “bringing contraband chocolate” or “if you make me wait on the porch I’m leaving”) and he’d reply with a single emoji that somehow managed to be filthy and sweet at the same time.The first few sessions were technically lessons.Week One he sat me in front of the full-length mirror in hi
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