The Doctor's Fake Marriage(9)

By: Amy Brent




“Yeah, we have to eat. He said he’s pretty picky, so I will just be along for the ride.” I didn’t want to make too much out of it.


“Well, I’ll hook you up.” She gave me a wink, and I focused on my plate and making it empty. I hurried to my room hoping to get done in the bathroom and ready for bed before they decided to take it over.


Two hours later I had gotten everything packed, and Courtney had even brought me a few nice dresses to wear, including two different pairs of shoes. I slid into my bed listening to the sounds of their moans and the creaking of the headboard next door. I’d asked her to move her bed to a different wall thinking it would help, but it hadn’t. The rhythmic knock had me stirring as well as my thoughts of Dr. Evan Black.


He had been on my mind all evening, and I wasn’t sure I’d make it through the night without working one off. I tossed and turned another hour after the idea crossed my mind. I wouldn’t stop wondering where I’d be staying and just how much time I’d be spending with him. I was also afraid of the trial and hoped that I hadn’t gotten myself into something dangerous or that would make me sick. I knew the risks were minimal, but one could never be too careful. By the time I’d finally decided to slip my hand down into my panties, I’d decided that Dr. Evan Black was what scared me most.


I rubbed a finger across my aching bud and bit my lip so I wouldn’t moan out loud. Courtney was doing enough moaning for the both of us, and I didn’t need to give those two any further ammunition or worse, the idea that it was time to extend another invitation.


I slipped the other hand up my night shirt and found my tight nipple and pinched it sending waves of pleasure down to my little slit which I stroked nice and slow.


I could imagine Dr. Black naked, his thick erection jutting out from his hips and me taking it into my hands. It seemed strange calling him Evan, and I didn’t think I could call him anything but Dr. Black. How weird would that be? If I couldn’t call him by his first name, then I couldn’t fuck him even if I ever did get the opportunity.


I imagined myself working his cock, pumping it in my fist and then leaning forward to suckle the tip. I could imagine how he’d taste and how much pleasure he’d give me as well. I could see us spread out together, lying in a sixty-nine position and sucking each other. I’d done that once before, and that was my very first taste of a man’s pleasure. Once the guy was finished, he stopped working me and fell asleep. At the time, I hadn’t even minded, my heart had been so full of love and hopes of what was to come. Silly me.


I’d had limited sexual experiences, all being oral and none being satisfying, but I imagined him being much more capable. I wondered what it would be like to have him above me, and I imagined him taking his hard cock and putting it right inside my slit, rubbing it gently against me up and down to spread the juices around and coat his cock. Then he’d slip it inside me, nice and slow, inching it deeper. I wondered if he’d be a gentle lover or a man-handling sex machine who would make me scream and claw my way through my first orgasm. I wasn’t sure which I’d prefer, so I imagined having him both ways.


I even pictured myself straddling his hips, sitting right down on his cock, letting it fill me to my limits, stretching me and breaking me apart to steal my virginity.


I’d always heard it hurt the first time, and I was okay with that. I wanted to feel everything, the entire experience, from that first pinch of pain to the final break of ecstasy. I wanted my toes to curl, my eyes to roll back in my head.


My legs started to tremble, and I picked them up, bending my knees and spreading wider as if he were really there. Part of me wondered if he really would want to be with me, with some ounce of hope lingering, but I shut it down. I wasn’t going to let me get my hopes up for something that wasn’t ever going to happen, not only because he’d never want me, but because I wasn’t going to pursue it.


Something inside told me to go for it. And that defiant voice was just what I needed to push me over the edge. I muffled my moans with my pillow and bit it as the pleasure ripped through me. And in my head, I screamed his name. Evan.

Top Books