Content advisory: m/f sex; oral sex; profanity
MMC is a serial story. Please see the 9-14-10 posting for Part One.
Meredith City is a major health care hub, located in the upper Midwest. With a large trauma center, doctors covet the training positions and put up with difficult schedules in exchange for the opportunity. Not all of the opportunities are purely medical…
Recap: When we last saw them, Doctor Laurel McKenna and Doctor Drew Whitlock had decided to share a call room for the night and indulge in a little physical examination. Drew’s talented tongue has given Laurel the orgasm of a lifetime, and she’s determined to make sure Drew gets some erotic memories of his own.
Laurel licked his shoulder. Even his skin tasted sexy: salt and spice and musky man. She nipped him and soothed the area with her tongue.
Teeth tugged on her earlobe. “Careful. Don’t leave anything I’ll have to explain to the boss.”
“Of course not. My turn now.” She reached between them and stroked his cock, base to tip, base to tip, a drop of pre-come pearling on the head. Another stroke pulled a groan from him.
“Stop, or the party’ll be over way too soon.”
Placing her hands on his hips, Laurel guided him back toward the bed. He spun her around, and pushed her down to sit on the low mattress.
“Hey! It’s my turn!”
“Hold it there, hot stuff. Got to get protection.”
He grinned and grabbed his scrub shirt off the floor. He’d hoped to catch her alone at some point, just hadn’t expected it to be tonight.
“Get protection as in leave the room, or get as in I-have-one-in-my-wallet?” she asked.
Good thing he’d decided to be prepared for any opportunity. “Neither. Get, as in the inside pocket of my scrubs.”
Laurel leaned back on her hands. “Bet the laundry ladies get a thrill if you forget to bail out your pockets.”
“Not as big a thrill as I got tonight finding you in my call room.” He held up a purple foil packet and turned to throw his shirt on the sink counter.
Laurel’s warm breasts pressed against his back. One arm wrapped around his waist, the other around his hips as slender fingers circled his erection.
He groaned and arched his back. “God, woman. Patience.”
She plucked the condom packet from his hand and dropped it on the table beside the bed, then gently squeezed his shaft. “I don’t believe we’re quite ready for that.”
His hips jerked. Amazing the power a woman had when exerting pressure in sensitive places. “I sure as hell am ready for it.”
Laurel continued to hold him as she pivoted and walked him forward until his knees hit the bed. “Okay, Dr. Whitlock. Turn and have a seat.”
She stroked upward and released her hold on his cock. “Sit.”
He sat, the hospital sheets cool against the dampness of his heated skin. The vee of her thighs was right at eye level.
Perfect positioning. He reached for her hips, planted a kiss on her thigh, and inhaled deeply. He caught a whiff of her feminine arousal, not three inches from his mouth. God, the taste of her. He licked her skin and moved toward her center.
Laurel grabbed his hands and stepped back. Request denied. He groaned, then pulled out his sexiest grin and gazed up into her baby blues. “Please?”
“You had your turn. My turn now.” She leaned over and placed his palms flat against the sheets, breasts right in front of his face, an irresistible feast. He darted his tongue out and touched one pink nipple, and she pulled back.
“Drew!” Her tone was stern, but her smile belied any real displeasure.
“Hands on the linens, please.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
He raised an eyebrow, and she nodded. Apparently, his compliance was required, or he wouldn’t get another turn. He blew out a breath, and leaned back on his hands. Maybe she was going to give him a lap dance. He relaxed and waited for the show to start.
To his surprise, she knelt and pushed his knees apart. Was she about to do what he thought she was about to do? “You don’t have to—”
She leaned in to kiss him, brushing her mouth against his, lightly tracing his lower lip with her tongue, and a shot of undiluted desire raced southward. Laurel palmed his erection and rubbed it between her breasts, then dipped her head and flicked her tongue over the tiny slit. Instantly, his cock was on high alert. A pleasant tension gathered in his groin.
Her tongue swirled over the crown, and then the tip gently dipped into the pre-come weeping from the opening. “How is that? Good?”
“Definitely good. Damn good.”
She laughed quietly and moved her hands to his knees, then ran her palms up his thighs until her thumbs rested at his groin. She rubbed small circles into his curls, and he gasped and bucked as the erotic sensation traveled along his shaft. Where in the hell had she learned a move like that?
And then her warm wet mouth cradled the head again.
His hips thrust upward in another involuntary spasm.
Laurel pulled back and wrapped her hands around the root of his cock, then squeezed. “Not yet, Drew.”
His urgent need for release backed off. “You keep this up, and I won’t have a choice.”
She sat back on her heels, the slim fingers of both hands encircling his shaft. A sinful smile crossed her face. “I’ll wait.”
Something about that look had him hardening further. Got to give her props, the girl wasn’t just another pretty face. She had hidden talents. He closed his eyes, focused on not coming.
Moist heat licked up the underside of his cock and tickled the ridge around the head. His lids popped open. In ten seconds flat she had him on the verge. Again.
“Laurel! God, enough. Please. I give.”
She laughed, and the vibration traveled along his shaft and into his balls. Again she tightened her grip and held off his release.
Hell, this wasn’t sex, this was torture.
When he’d settled, she held up the foil packet. Panting, he watched as she pulled out the latex and rolled it onto him. God, he never thought he’d appreciate the decrease in sensation a condom provided, but it might be the only thing between him and a premature ejaculation.
Laurel stood and climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips. She slowly dropped down, and he watched as his cock slid inside her. Erotic as hell. She squeezed him with her internal muscles, heat surrounding him, and then…
Stopped. Halfway to heaven, she stopped. He leaned his head back and growled. “Laurel, you’re killing me here.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll resuscitate you if need be,” she whispered. Her hands came up to rest on his biceps, and traced along the ridges of his muscles and wove into his hair.
God, he couldn’t sit still. This was a game for two. Participation was mandatory at this point, whether she wanted it or not. He grasped her hips and drove upward, sheathing himself to the root, and Laurel moaned. Her fingers tightened in his hair, sending little bursts of pleasure down to his cock, and he pulled back and thrust deep. She tipped his head back and lowered her mouth to his.
This time, her tongue penetrated his lips and stroked his, putting him right on the edge. He focused his thoughts away from sex, willing himself to hold back.
This woman. Why had he waited so long to approach her? But who’d have guessed what lurked beneath that proper white coat?
Laurel raised up, and then slid down hard. Even through the condom, the feel of her was so damned good. Prolonging the pleasure wasn’t feasible, not this time.
He started pumping in earnest, and she moved along with him. Laurel moaned into his mouth and threw her head back, panting her pleasure. His own breathing and heart rate accelerated, and his release tightened in his thighs. With a powerful shudder, Laurel climaxed around him and cried out. He pounded into her once more and came hard, the orgasm blasting through him with the force of a sledgehammer and nearly sending him into unconsciousness.
He collapsed back on the bed, and Laurel slumped forward onto his chest.
“Oh, my God,” they said at the same time.
He chuckled. “More like, thank God for mix-ups in call room assignments.”
And more sharing in the future. He kissed her mouth and grinned.
Please return November 18, 2010 for the next installment of Meredith Medical Center!
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Copyright © 2010 Whitley Gray
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination, or have been used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales, or events is entirely coincidental. No portion of this work may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.