“Do you want this?” His voice was a growl, rough and deep, vibrating through me.“Yes,” I whispered, then louder and shameless, “Yes, I do. I want you to fuck me, doctor.”His eyes darkened and without another word, he slid lower, pressing his cock against my soaked entrance. I was trembling, watching his thick cock push against me. He circled my pussy with the tip, smearing my wetness, teasing me until I was whining.Then, just the head slipped inside. My walls clamped down instantly.“Fuuuck,” I moaned, my head falling back. The stretch burned but it was delicious and when he pulled out, I nearly sobbed at the emptiness.“Please…” I begged, my voice broken.Without warning, he slammed into me, with one brutal thrust burying his cock inside my pussy.“Aahhh…!” I screamed, biting down on my lip to muffle the sound. The sting of the stretch, the way my body split around him, had me clawing at the exam table.His hands clamped down on my waist, pinning me to the table, holding me still
I felt the snap of his gloves tighten around my skin as his fingers pressed deeper inside me. First one, then two, sliding in and curling like he was searching for something specific. My legs trembled as he spread them apart, pushing just a little wider. The sound was wet, every push and pull coated in slickness I couldn’t hide. “Relax your muscles,” he said evenly, like he was reading from a textbook. His voice was steady but the way his jaw flexed betrayed him. He was fighting something. His fingers rolled inside me not just in and out but pressing, twisting, finding the spot that made my back arch off the exam table. A sharp cry escaped me before I could choke it back. Then…smack. His palm landed across my clit. My hips jerked violently, a broken moan spilling out. “Sensitive,” he murmured, almost like he was still taking clinical notes but his hand came down again, striking that swollen clit, this time harder. “Ahh…oh god…” My voice echoed through the sterile white room. My
I walked into his office, my heart beating too fast. He didn’t greet me with anything more than a curt nod before gesturing toward the exam table.“Sit,” he said, his voice calm and detached.I sat nervously on the edge of the exam table, my palms damp. He closed the file and looked at me with that same unreadable expression.“From the results yesterday,” he said slowly, “we’ll need a more complete check, not just below but also above. That means your chest.”My heart jumped into my throat. “My chest?” I repeated softly.He nodded. “Remove your shirt but leave the bra on for now.”Hands trembling, I tugged my blouse over my head. The room suddenly felt colder, my bra stretched tight across my breasts. “Sit straight,” he said.I obeyed then he slipped on fresh gloves with a snap, then stepped closer. His hands cupped one breast, lifting it like he was measuring its weight. He moved to the other, doing the same, then pressed gently, fingers kneading into the soft flesh.“Any pain?” he
The nurse walked in just as Dr. Watson excused himself, leaving me on the table trying to remember how to breathe.“Miss?” she said softly, wheeling over a tray with vials and a needle. She didn’t seem to notice my flushed face or shaky hands or maybe she did and just pretended not to.I nodded, forcing myself to sit up straighter. She wrapped the elastic band around my arm, her fingers cool against my skin.“This won’t take long,” she murmured.I stared at the ceiling as the needle pricked my skin. The sting was nothing compared to the throbbing ache still pulsing low between my thighs. Every movement reminded me of how wet I still was and how I hadn’t been allowed to finish.“All done,” the nurse said, taping gauze to my arm. “Doctor wants you back tomorrow for the follow-up.”“R-right, tomorrow.” My voice sounded far away, even to me.I thanked her and changed in my clothes, walking out of the hospital with legs that didn’t feel like my own.---When I got home, Mom was waiting at
I lay there, gown bunched up around my waist, the paper beneath me sticking to my skin. His gloved hands pressed gently against different parts of my stomach, moving lower each time.Dr. Watson’s hands were warm, even through the gloves, as they pressed along my stomach. He started higher up, firm but gentle, as though testing each part of me.“Any tenderness here?” His voice was even, almost soothing.I shook my head quickly. “No, doctor.”He shifted lower, fingertips pressing just above my hip bone. The pressure made my skin prickle. “And here?”Again, I shook my head, though my throat was too dry to form words.When his touch drifted lower down toward the soft flesh at the top of my inner thigh, my body stiffened. The breath I’d been holding escaped in a sharp gasp.Dr. Watson paused, his eyes flicking up to mine for a second before lowering again. “Don’t tense up, You need to stay relaxed for this part of the exam.”“O-okay.” My voice cracked and I hated how nervous I sounded.His
LoraI must have checked the mirror five times before finally grabbing my bag. My hands wouldn’t stay still. I kept fussing with my hair, adjusting the hem of my skirt, debating if I should change into something less… fitted but then again, it was only a check-up.Still, my stomach refused to calm.I wasn’t sick, not exactly. I’d been feeling a little off. Tightness in my chest, trouble sleeping, an ache low in my abdomen that came and went. My mother insisted I book an appointment before it turned into something worse and now here I was, rushing through my morning, dreading what felt like a simple exam.But the truth was, it wasn’t just nerves about my health. It was him.Dr. Watson, he was my assigned physician. Mid-thirties, tall, always composed, with that unsettling mix of professional charm and quiet authority. The kind of man whose presence filled the room before he even spoke. Last time I saw him, I couldn’t stop replaying the way his hand brushed my wrist while taking my puls