Herringbone’s
My heart rate accelerated to a level I knew was dangerous. It even caused tinnitus to explode in my ears. But was I stopping?
Miss said to go in, flirt, take someone into the bathroom, and record myself eating a stranger’s pussy.
Here in my vanilla community, “everyone” knew that Herringbone’s was a lesbian bar. Something we talked about at barbecues, suggested as someplace to “check out” when we had a few too many glasses of wine.
In other words, the kind of place a successful 31-year-old hetero professional, who has been married to a man for five years, has a dog and an SUV, should not be entering alone on a Friday night. Especially not wearing a miniskirt, no bra nor panties, a pink spaghetti strap tank that does nothing to hide her D cup breasts, and a pair of fuck me boots she hasn’t worn since medical school.
Miss ordered. I have to obey. I touched my choker. Oh fuck! I need to obey more than I ever needed anything in my life.
At the bar, a hot black chick with a shaved head was looking me up and down. I found my target. Despite so many things in my brain screaming “this is wrong,” I was going to take that woman into the bathroom, lock the stall, and record myself eating pussy until she orgasms.
Not exactly what people would think a respected OBGYN would be doing on a Friday.
So, how the fuck did I get here?
***
How I Got There (eight months ago)
K. Tatum was on the day’s appointments under the category of new patient. These always landed with me, not David, my partner. This was, after all, his practice for the last 20 years, and I was the newb. I had been on rotation at two different hospitals in Ohio when Wesley, my more than likely, soon-to-be ex-husband, had the opportunity to take a position here in Illinois. I figured, what the hell, I can do this anywhere.
I take women’s reproductive health very seriously. Illinois staunchly defends it. And now more than ever, we vagina owners need to support one another.
I pulled up Miss Tatum’s chart on my tablet as I walked towards examination room four. Five four, 115 pounds, 21 years old, here today regarding “two unusually painful periods in a row.”
Hopefully nothing super-challenging.
I knocked and stepped in and greeted a beautiful redheaded young woman with sparkling green eyes. She was sitting straight up, wearing poise and confidence like favorite earrings—remarkably well put together. Even in the horrible gowns that we gave our patients to wear for examination purposes, you could tell she had a very sexy young body.
I should say that up until this very moment, I have never felt a pull to enjoy another woman sexually. There have been times growing up and in college when people tempted me. And other than a drunken make-out five years ago with my friend Chloe, I’ve never had any lesbian leanings.
My life was about to change dramatically.
In a bright, even alto, Kayla told me of her recent menstrual history, and we discussed possible causes. I told her I would like to give her a full exam if she was comfortable with that.
“Aren’t you the doctor, Doctor?”
“Your body, your choice. Although a physical exam is not necessary, it’s recommended.”
“I am in your capable hands.” Her voice sounded calm, inviting. Her eyes caught mine with a hint of something. Mischief perhaps.
I felt my face flush, and I’m sure I was blushing. *Cough* I was pleasantly uncomfortable. “I find I can discover a lot more through tactile examination.”
“I agree that skin-to-skin contact is always the best option.”
I should’ve known at the time that it was actually a come-on, but I wasn’t expecting it. She was ten years younger than me!
As I gloved up, I told her I was going to examine her abdomen, lower back, and, of course, her vagina. As I turned back, I expected her to look a bit bashful, as most of my patients did. Instead, she had slowly lowered herself back on the examination table and, without asking, slid her rather attractive legs into the stirrups. The simple drape cloth we usually had positioned over the end of the table was casually tossed aside, exposing her entire lower body from navel to toes.
I have been working around women’s vulvas for nearly a decade, and while I recognize that intimacy and privacy are conflicting elements in my work, I have never hesitated when seeing a naked woman’s so-called private parts. Yet I suddenly found myself doing just that, hesitating.
The labia seemed to be normally plump, slightly opening, as is often the case in my office. And while she was impeccably shaven, perhaps even waxed, there was a slightly darker cast to the skin tone of her mons. Add in some charming freckles just above the right side that looked almost like a constellation, and you have a really sweet pussy.
I shook my head to focus, internally admonishing myself. “Sweet pussy? Dr. Drexel, get your shit together!”
I auscultated her lungs and lower abdomen. I pressed in different places from her navel down and discovered some slight irritation just to the left and below her navel. Possible cyst.
Then I sat on my stool and prepared for the most intimate of examinations any doctor can give a patient.
“No speculum needed, I’m going to use some lubrication. We keep it warmed, so it’s not quite a shock.”
I usually smiled softly when I said this and often got a nod or even a thank you from my patients. I looked up at Kayla, and she was grinning with one red eyebrow raised.
“I don’t think you’re going to need any lube, but you are the professional.”
The most common gynecological practice is a bimanual examination: to put one hand above, flat on the lower abdomen, the other inserted into the vagina. You get a good feel for the position of the uterus and ovaries, and perhaps some anomalies.
I put my left hand on very light-colored skin, and I found my own heart skipped a beat. A sweet fragrance of youthful secretions filtered through my nostrils and lit up my brain waves.
“Sorry, this may hurt…”
I slowly slid two fingers into her tight opening, only to have vaginal arousal verify what she had told me. As I pushed in deeper, I gently swirled around. When I reached her cervix, everything felt normal, tight, problem-free.
My left hand felt nothing out of the ordinary, except that she slightly winced at pressure.
This type of examination usually took ten seconds. So why was I still in here?
I was staring at her clitoris peeking out from under its hood, beckoning me. I should’ve been surprised when I felt her hand against my upper one, but I only found a strange comfort in her touch.
“Uh, Doc? This feels nice, but you’re making me a little nervous.”
I slid out, pulled my hands back, and sat up straight. Feels nice, Shit!
I’m sure my face was pink, and I was talking a mile a minute. “I am so sorry, Kayla, I was just trying to be thorough because of your—. Yes, your cervix feels very normal. I would like to get an…an…ultrasound to verify, but I believe from your reaction and the way things feel, you probably have some fibroid cysts. They can often strain your uterine lining and make your cramps especially difficult.”
I made the mistake of making eye contact and found her face to be slightly grinning. She had one eyebrow up, and her eyes were even more naughty-looking than before.
“Did you need the lube?”
I blushed even more so and looked away. But I decided I needed to answer. “No, no, I did not.”
“Sorry, I’ve always been a little fluid aggressive when it comes to people touching my pussy. Oh no, is that appropriate?”
I laughed awkwardly. “Of course, this is a safe space. Say what you need or what you…want.” My voice trailed off because my patient’s fingers were gently caressing her own well-lubricated labia. I sat transfixed.
“You see what I mean? Of course you do. You’re staring at me.”
I turned away from her and made notes on my tablet. I was sweating, I felt my nipples reacting, and my own vagina was lubricating itself. Sweet Mother Earth, I was getting turned on by a patient! This had never happened to me.
“The – the good news is they’re treatable with some hormonal therapy.”
“Yeah. Had ‘em before. You won’t need the ultrasound. I just wanted to make sure.”
“Oh, good…On your way out, you can tell the desk where to send the prescription.”
She nodded, looking serious for a moment.
I could tell she was no longer coming on to me, so I breathed a little more easily. “But please, if the pain returns next period, call me. I would like to give you some tips on how to deal with it. Or perhaps we will need a more aggressive examination.”
She was already out of the stirrups and sliding herself off the table. The gown was barely holding on; her left nipple was almost visible. My throat went dry. She was close. I backed up.
“How will I get a hold of you? I’ll need a direct number.” She said the last as if it were nonnegotiable.
“I actually have a work phone that— The number will be in the visit report.” My voice was suddenly quieter. Something very strange was happening to me. “Text me. Or even call if you need. Day or….”
I felt the doorknob on my back. She was almost predatorial in her gaze. In her bare feet, she was about four inches shorter than me. She was close enough that I felt her breath on my exposed collarbone.
“Thank you, Doctor. Can I call you ‘Carrie’ after that hot moment we just shared?”
“It was j-just an exam.”
“You’re cute when you stutter.” She turned, and the open gown showed a slender and stunning back with perfect pink ass cheeks. And that hair —fuck, I was lost.
“I’ll let you change in private. Please let me know…shit…” My voice had trailed off because she was suddenly only wearing three earrings and a fairy tattoo on her hip. While looking at me, she was sliding a pink thong up her body. Her pert breasts wiggled a bit, and her red hair cascaded over her shoulders. Before I could say or do anything else unprofessional, I slipped out the door and rushed to my private bathroom.
It took less than a minute to cum.
***
That evening, dinner with Wesley was mundane and robotic. “You okay, Care? You’ve been distracted since you sat down.” He knew me well. How could I tell him I wanted a twenty-one-year-old redhead for dessert?
I snapped back to focus. “Yeah, I’m good. I just had a new patient today, and she was…troubling. I’m having a hard time getting her, uh, case out of my head.” I hadn’t lied.
He stood with his plate. “Well, I know you will find a solution. You always do.”
I smiled, and he began to clear. “I can do it, you cooked?”
He kissed my forehead. “You need time to research in the office. I can see your curiosity motor is accelerating.”
Boy, was he accurate.
Fifteen minutes later, I was in our home office, my laptop illuminating my face with images of naked red heads doing all sorts of sexy things. I was in my loose sweats and a t-shirt, my left foot under my ass, my right index finger… Fuck. Maybe I should just tell Wes what’s happening. It’s not like he hasn’t joked about seeing me with another woman. Classic male fantasy BS.
I was getting close to my second self-induced orgasm of the day when my buzzing phone made me yank my hands out of my pants and off my right nipple.
A text. Hey Doc. This is your new fave patient. all good, not trusting this is you, not AI.
I knew it was Kayla. She almost warned me she was going to text. I was shocked and excited that it was so soon. Without hesitation, I responded with shaking fingers. This is Dr. Drexel. Are you in pain? Nice, Carrie. Are you in pain? Flirt Crash.
Not at all. Tell me something that proves you are not AI
I softly laughed. She had a point. I took a deep breath and sent the most provocative yet still safe option. You have freckles on your pelvis that look like a constellation.
I was positively soaking my sweatpants. In fact, I could smell myself. Or was that my finger?
Dayam, fanning my face. An ex said the same. I call it Cassiopussy.
Fuuuuu…She sent a follow-up text: thinking of earlier. feeling good TBH, VERY good. flame emoji.
How can i help you Miss Tatum?
Have a drink with me
My heart rate doubled, and I sat up straight. She was asking me out.
She went on. Do you drink? I imagine only wine or something fruity.
I texted back. I do. But you are a patient. That should have closed the door. So why did I add, And I am married. to a man.
The Starr Bar on Third. Seven Friday. Wear something not doctory.
Kayla, this is my work phone. Not a dating app
It will do until i get your personal number. See you friday. And you didnt call me Miss Tatum. Kissing lips emoji.
And with that, she stopped, and I stared…rereading it all…twice. WTF? I was off the charts horny. I quickly cleared my laptop browser and closed it. I needed to go cum, but not before adding the bar’s address to my map app. Two days to wait. Fuck me…
Minutes later, a very willing Wesley was driving his hardness between my wide-open legs as I lay sprawled out on the bed in complete surrender. He was grinning like a cat at the three orgasms I had already let loose. As my vision went white during the third, I was thinking, ‘They aren’t yours, Babe. But you don’t need to know that.’
I lay there after, not wanting him to get off me, his swimmers trying to complete their mission. I smiled.
I have a date with a girl.
My Date With A Girl
Thursday was a blur. I bounced through the day with a giddy energy that had two of my nurses making jokes about getting laid. I didn’t deny the truth, but like Wesley, didn’t tell them the cause.
Friday, I did an extra close shave and put on nice lingerie rather than work wear. I told Wesley I was meeting some hospital folks for drinks after work. He had a late guys thing himself, so it worked out.
I had put my sexy LBD in my car the day before and got ready after everyone left the office. I looked hot. I caught myself in the mirror and had the classic moment every cheater has (or I imagine should). “Are you sure about this?” My reflection nodded and put on more lip gloss.
As I drove toward the location, I was tempted to turn around three times. This was a foolish and reckless thing. If the doctor/patient relationship wasn’t enough to stop me, the ten-year age gap should have been. I wondered if I was even reading everything correctly. What if she just wanted a friend and not someone to take to bed?
My phone buzzed as if she had telepathy. My phone voiced the message.
Late. U having second thoughts? I hope not. I have plans for you.
My pussy buzzed and I nearly ran a red light. Fuck me.
The bar was nice, higher end, so my being dressed “not doctory” looked in the vibe. I didn’t hesitate to hesitate. I walked in, my favorite purple heels clacking my heartbeat. She was sitting at the far end of a long rectangular bar. A too much older business dick, with his shirt open too far, was trying to talk her up. She was staring at her phone disinterestedly. I was hoping she was going to text me.
I felt emboldened and texted her first. I’m here
She looked up and a big smile filled her face and lit up her eyes. I nearly melted when she gave me some finger wiggles to direct me to come quickly. As I got closer, the big dick followed her line of sight and saw her staring at me. He murmured something, rolled his eyes, and sulked away.
Kayla looked amazing. Her red hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She had on a dark blue dress that left little to the imagination. Pale skin glowed in the dim lights of the bar, and I noticed she was wearing a necklace with an arrow pointed provocatively into her round cleavage. I wanted to kiss it.
Holy fuck… I am bisexual. I had to have this woman. Perhaps I had to have her have me.
“You’re late.”
I laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, only fifteen minutes.”
“Don’t do it again.”
I laughed even harder and sat on the stool next to her. I looked at her face and realized she had not been joking. My smile faded, and I swallowed. “Sure…” fell out of my mouth. That should have doused my flame, but it simply held me in place while my heartbeat hammered.
“Glad you came. Not at all surprised.”
I softened a bit. Was she playing a game?
“I ordered you a glass of wine.” She slid the glass towards me, and I smiled. “It’s clean. I don’t need a drug to get you to comply.”
“That…is a little disturbing.”
She shrugged, finally looking like the girl I met at the office just two days ago. “You clean up well, as my dad used to say.”
I sipped the wine. It was good. I felt fine. “Not doctory? Whatever that means.”
“It means you don’t look boring. You look hot. You look like the woman I saw behind the stethoscope, so to speak. Cheers.” She lifted some type of fancy beer. Our glasses clinked and we drank. The dynamic we had at the end of her appointment and over these messages seemed to be equaling out now that we were in person. My God, even the way those full lips drank beer was sexy.
I ran my finger around the rim of my glass and tried not to map her thigh freckles. I gave my opening remarks that I had been practicing in the car on the way over. “I am not going to bore you with things like ‘I’ve never done this before’ because I can tell by the way you’re looking at me that you know that’s true. What I do want to say is… I haven’t stopped thinking about you. I am here tonight to find out why.”
She laughed much louder than I ever expected. It was delightful and honest, and another thing that was very sexy. Hell, she could be cleaning the toilet, and I would think it was sexy.
“Well said, Doctor Carrie. And exactly what I needed to hear.” She laid her hand on the bar, palm up. An irrefusable offer. I put mine in hers, and a short jolt of electricity ran through my entire nervous system. The grip was soft but strong. It felt like she was taking ownership through my fingers.
“I have certain tastes in women. I have certain things I like them to do both with me and for me. You want to know why? You exhibit all of the signs that I easily detect in submissives.”
I nearly spit out my wine as I laughed. “Submissive? What the hell do you mean by that?”
In a flash, she was standing and was dangerously close to my face. Her lips were centimeters from my cheek. I held my breath as heat washed over my skin, like the first wave when you open the door in August.
“Drop the act. You want to fuck me, Dr. Carrie. You know you do, and I know you know I am right. And you might, if this all goes the way I think it will. But make no mistake, from here on out, I am in charge. And I’m giving you this one opportunity to turn around and leave. If you think you can forget you met me, that is.”
I sat, frozen, my eyes must’ve been the size of saucers. The only thing I was forgetting was how to breathe. My nipples wanted to shoot out of my dress. I could no longer feel my toes. My wedding ring suddenly felt like a lead weight. I couldn’t move. My mind was giddy and edgy, and not from the wine.
She placed her long fingernails under my chin and turned my head. I must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights. The kiss was sudden and wet and scorchingly hot. Our tongues immediately met, and a soft moan escaped my body. She was exquisitely talented, or maybe it was just that I’ve never been kissed with that much passion before. A husband’s face was somewhere in my memory…
She pulled away, and I sat there completely enthralled and unable to speak. I leaned forward to kiss again, and she backed away just a fraction.
“That is what I mean by submissive.” Without losing eye contact, she stood, picked up her phone and purse off the bar. She abruptly walked past me.
Without being told, I knew I was supposed to follow her, and I did.
I caught up to her in the parking lot and was following her just behind and to the left. God, that ass!
I wanted to ask what the hell was going on. I wanted to tell her that this had been a mistake, that I was being foolish. I wanted to say anything, but nothing would come out.
She shocked me when she stopped next to my car. How the hell did she know?
“Unlock.” She walked around to the passenger side. “We need to get going.”
I put my purse close to my car, and the doors unlocked. She slid in, and I followed
“Why do we need to get going? Where are we going, Kayla?”
“Miss. You will refer to me as Miss, unless we are in public. Respond if you comply.”
Comply? What the fuck?
The air in my car suddenly felt thick yet full of movement and uncertainty.
“Okay, sure.” I knew as soon as I said it, it was way too casual.
“Try again.” Her voice was icy. “Pet.”
Pet?! Damn, no more “doctor”. Okay, this was very serious. I was at the water’s edge. Do I dive in?
“Yes…Miss. I understand.” SPLASH!
“Good girl.”
I felt relief more than disbelief.
Not as fast as in the bar, but certainly quick, she was coming in close. She kissed me again, less fire this time, more control. Her right hand slipped from my jaw to my throat. She didn’t squeeze; she didn’t pinch. She just sat it there; her fingers gently pulling my hair, falling over her hand. This kiss was even better than the one in the bar because it held a tenderness behind the passion. My mind was a mess, a kaleidoscope of feelings and thoughts I had never had nor ever expected to experience.
Her hand slid down my chest and into my bra. I was frozen, except for my lips. Her squeeze was exquisite, and I nearly had an orgasm. When she found my nipple and gave it a slight twist, I yelled into her mouth, and she pulled back. I gasped and held my breath. The pain was strange yet not unwelcome.
“Hold up your left hand.”
I did, and she pinched harder. I lost my breath but didn’t ask for her to stop.
“Look at your ring.” I did, but not with enough guilt. “Means nothing to me. I’m willing to share you… for now.”
She let go of my nipple with a snap! I caved in naturally and rubbed it with my hand. My tilted neck was open, and she latched on to it and sucked. I hadn’t had a hickey since I was 17, but I didn’t stop her. She was marking me, holy fuck.
Her voice was low, soft, and enchanting. “You will know such pleasure and such joy serving me. I will take you to places you didn’t know existed. Show you things you would be shocked that I would know at my age.”
Her hot left hand was now on my thigh and was sliding up to what had to be a very wet piece of fabric. I naturally opened my legs with a soft moan.
“Good girl. Open up your wet cunt.”
That was a word I did not like. Being literally in the profession of respecting and caring for vaginas, I really liked the practical terminology. In fact, when Wesley and I ever talked sexy, he would just simply call it my entrance.
Right now, it was a cunt. A needy, wet, submissive cunt. And I wasn’t sure it was mine anymore.
“We will drive to a hotel room I booked. You will stay the night.” I was panting. She was methodical. “Later, you can call Wesley and tell him you had too much and are staying with a friend.”
She knew Wesley’s name? I was shocked. She laughed.
“The internet, Pet. Seriously?” She had my gusset pulled aside and was stroking my swelling, wet labia with her nails.
“Oh fuck, Kay – Misss!”
I wanted to hold her hand. Grab her breasts. Kiss her ear! I wanted it all. And of course, she sensed it.
“Hands still! You’ll have all night to please me.” With her right hand, she started my car and fastened her seatbelt. Then she put the hotel in my GPS. The Summerland? Old, fancy, expensive…sexy.
“There. Now, drive.” I looked over, and she raised that eyebrow. Her hand was still playing my pussy like a fucking violin!
Her voice was louder, in charge. “I will be lenient for only a few more minutes, Pet. You will learn to follow commands and rules. Rule one: Never question my commands. Drive.”
I fastened my own belt and put the car in gear. As I pulled out of the parking spot, her fingers found my swampy entrance and pushed inside. I nearly had a seizure. I slammed on the brakes and came to a stop like a freight train.
“Ohhh myyy gahhhd!” I lost my breath, and she pulled out of me. She gave me a minute to collect myself. I was warm all over, and my ears were ringing. I was lost but maybe found; flabbergasted.
I turned to her with incredulous eyes. How was she doing this to me? She licked off her fingers, then had me finish the job. I tasted different. More complete. Right.
“Good girl. Now…drive.”
TO BE CONTINUED
Thanks for reading. If you liked it, hit the heart. If you really liked it, clean up and then hit the star. And as always, please leave a comment. I try to respond to them all.
Peace and good cum, Matt
