House Md

As House exited the examination room, he contemplated the disheartening number of obtuse patients he had treated over the years. The number of descending IQs seemed to be rising. Parents who jumped to conclusions the second their little squirt seemed to be showing symptoms of some life-threatening, unlikely condition annoyed the hell out of him. He made a note to himself to thank Cuddy for rescuing him from one such patient's idiotic mother.

House limped through the door of Cuddy's office to find her waiting for him with a perplexed look on her face.

"You didn't tell anyone else what I'm doing?"

"Not a soul," replied House.

"Wilson? Cameron? Maybe you mentioned it to her..."

House actually surprised himself by not informing Wilson of Cuddy's pursuit of motherhood. For some reason he chose not to address, he felt her secret was something he wanted to protect. "I'm a really good secret keeper. I never told anyone Wilson wets the bed....oh, you tricked me."

He watched Cuddy hurry behind the desk and shut the blinds like a frenzied squirrel. The way that her black skirt complimented her full, sexy hips made his hand tighten around his cane. She didn't look as though she'd have any trouble giving birth.

Cuddy turned to face him, her black curls bouncing. He glanced at her chest, enjoying the way the material clung to her, cutting just low enough to provoke his curiosity.

"Part of the protocol for in-vitro fertilization is twice daily injections of menotropins," her voice brought him back to reality. "I can't do it myself."

House was slightly taken aback by the meaning of her words. Surely he wouldn't be the first person she would ask to do this for her? The only reason he knew in the first place was because he had first confused the signs with cancer...He also secretly hoped that she wasn't on an actual date with Wilson.

"Turn around."

Cuddy turned away from him tentatively. House became transfixed on her ass as she bent over the desk and lifted her skirt. "No clever comments about bending over?" She turned her head, peering up at him.

"Not unless you want me to," replied House with a surprisingly level tone.

"I'm just not used to House the professional."

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a scalpel. He sensed that his quiet, non-House demeanor was beginning to unnerve her. "I was thinking about what your mother looked like," he said while removing the sterilized wipe from its packaging. "Your father obviously chose her for breeding purposes."

Her parents chose one another to have a child with, probably without invasive medical questions about illness and genetics. Probably while sharing a bottle of wine and a set of sheets. Here she was opting to let someone she knew nothing about, other than the information supplied by the sperm bank, father her child.

"Shut up!"

House gently pressed the wipe to her perfect, taut cheek. She was a beautiful, successful woman. Too much for most men to deal with. He found the way her ass felt beneath his fingers incredible. He would definitely have to thank her.

"Natural selection sucks," he continued. "We pick our mates based on breast size, cars they drive. They did an autopsy on married couples, found a correlation in pancreas size. We're hardwired to pick for stupid reasons, you have the chance to pick for smart reasons."

"I think the Germans had a similar theory about 60 yrs ago."

"I'm not abdicating wiping out entire races, I'm just saying you don't want to mate with the first plastic cup that buys you a drink." But maybe with the first cripple to hobble through her door?

House continued to over-sanitize the potential injection site. The contrast between her soft skin and tight muscle was too much for him to bear. The swab slipped from his hand, and he slowly brushed his fingers against her tiny, black thong. It was so small that it was pointless. Cuddy stiffened when he slipped his fingers into her panties. Her sharp intake of breath made his heart race.

Cuddy moaned as his fingers dipped into the slick heat between her legs. He could feel the protest forming on the tip of her tongue, but she was helpless. He gently ran his fingers between her wet folds, encouraged by the way she pressed herself against his hand. She wanted more.

House pushed his fingers inside of her and she moaned in delight. With his left hand, he reached around and began to stroke her clit, eliciting the most beautiful vocal response he had ever heard.

"Oh, God..." Cuddy moaned.

"No, this is House. It's easy to get us confused, though," he smirked. Her legs trembled against his and she shivered as he leaned forward, taking her earlobe between his teeth.

"Quit screwing around, House!" She leaned even farther over the desk, letting her thong drop to her ankles.

House had to hold himself back from diving right into her. He quickly unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. He pressed his cock against Cuddy, teasing her wet folds. House wanted Dr. Lisa Cuddy to go crazy with desire.

He couldn't possibly wait one more second. The pain was sharper than anything his leg had ever felt. There wasn't enough Vicodin or Morphine in the world to ease this ache. House thrust into her mercilessly, and she gave a low moan as he fucked her senseless. He penetrated her deeper than she thought possible, thrusting hard and fast. Suddenly, she was overtaken by the most intense orgasm of her life.

House could feel his own building as she gripped him tightly, her muscles hot and sticky with cum. Doing everything in his power to enjoy this as long as possible, House tried to shut Cuddy out of his mind. He tried recalling the name of the guitarist from Queen, reciting the Hippocratic Oath, picturing Foreman as a white man. Before he could stop himself, his cum was spilling into her. He was devoid of and form of self control, thrown into a state of hypersensitivity. He slammed his eyes shut, blocking out the piercing light. House reveled in the words coming out of her mouth...

"I'm pretty sure you got that."

House opened his eyes, finding the light to be tolerable. With the blinds shut there was hardly and light in the room at all. He realized that he still held the sterilized cotton in his hand and was continuing to gently stroke her skin with it.

"Microbes can be sneaky," he replied matter-of-factly.

House quickly jabbed the syringe into the desired muscle and was secretly delighted to hear Dr. Cuddy yelp. Serves her right for interrupting his best fantasy yet.

Cuddy straightened up and turned to face House. "Thanks." Something curious played across his face, but was gone just as quickly.

"This day is gonna be fun," he quipped in his standard nonchalant way.

House smirked, all the while knowing that it was Cuddy who deserved the thanks.