Her Dirty Doctor Dreams Come True

This is part 6 - the last chapter of a multi-part series called "Her Dirty Doctor Dreams Come True." Thanks for letting me indulge my doctor patient fantasy. Until next time.

~~

There's no way I'm letting myself come only one minute into fucking her. I pull my length out of Stefania's ass, her buttocks glistening from my sweat. She lets out an exhale of relief. It's her first anal experience, and I want to go easy on her.

"Stefania," I say as I look down at her lying prone on the bed, relieved that the tears that were streaming down her cheek had dried into two faint trails, "you sure you want me to keep going?"

"Please ... I want you to," her back arching downwards as she lifts her ass up higher to once again meet my cock. My base of my shaft firmly sandwiched between her cheeks now, she begins to grind her flesh pleadingly on my hard-on. I take hold of her small waist as she rocks back and forth. Waves of pleasure pulse through my groin making me feel lightheaded. I'm losing control again.

"Got any lube?," I ask, pulling away from her in self defense, "I know you'll enjoy this if we do it right." As I part her cheeks again to look at my prize, she reaches for a drawer next to the bed and hands me a small bottle. I stream the clear liquid into the crack of her ass and massage it around here perfect, tiny asshole, using a very light touch as I spread it all over my rock-hard cock so as not to encourage the imminent orgasm.

It doesn't help any when I notice that she has reached underneath herself and is enthusiastically strumming her pussy again as she quietly moans, more wetness radiating from her slit all over her upper thighs. My balls, rock hard, are ready to spew the second I enter her.

She looks over her shoulder at me, her big brown eyes conveying frustrated desperation.

"Daddy???," she whines.

"Ask nicely," I instruct.

"Please, Daddy. Please shove your cock in my ass," she begs as she gets onto her hands and knees again.

My throbbing dong feels indescribably good as I slowly probe the depths of her body. She tenses as I penetrate her more and more deeply, inhaling rhythmically to relax into the intrusion of my huge cock. Satisfied that I've somehow forced half of my length in, I take hold of her little waist as I draw my hips back. I plunge into that perfectly round ass over and over, my cock squeezed beyond comprehension by her tight knot.

I swear he's almost all the way in me now and the new sensation in my ass feels dirty and amazing all at once.

In the space of hours I'd gone from just dreams of yielding completely to this man to now giving him all he could want. With each powerful thrust, his body meets mine in a sweaty confirmation of my complete submission...his cock has now found all of my holes, his tongue has explored every last inch of me. Even as I gulp back the pain of his huge rod up my ass, I'm filled with satisfaction.

This horrible year has left my heart raw and exposed. It only made sense to me that I close myself, my body, off to the world. In some twisted way I thought that by insisting he fuck me in the ass, I would somehow confirm the hopelessness and violation I've felt. But he's thwarted my attempt at masochism, and has only met my anguish with pleasure.

Faster now, the sweat is pouring down my legs as I slam into her over and over again, her cheeks growing red from my relentless assault. My body trembles on the verge of explosion as I hammer her, one hand wrapped nearly all the way around her slender neck, my palm closing tighter and tighter around it as my orgasm builds.

I can no longer be gentle.

"Almost there, you naughty little girl," I huff. She moans with delight.

"You're right, Daddy. I am very bad," she pants, "pull my fucking hair hard while you pump my ass full of cum!"

I can't do it.

That spectacular ass is just begging to be covered. The mounting pleasure of my thrusts throw my cock into convulsions and I spew hot cum all over her cheeks, her lower back, some in the crack. I'm pleased by the abstract canvas I've painted and I can barely catch my breath from the power of my orgasm.

I lay my head down onto the pillow next to her. She smiles at me and pets my cheek with open palm. The only thing I want to do is kiss her.

~~~

Should I set my alarm for you?,"I ask, moving closer to him in bed.

"Not necessary. I'm finished working for the week," he says, continuing, "not even on call this weekend, thank god."

He pauses and inquires:

"Didn't you say you took Friday off?"

A guy that actually listens. I seriously think about making a permanent switch to older men.

It's a bit hard for me to string words together:

"Right. I took off tomorrow. I have no special plans, I just thought it might cheer me up to mill around town all day and enjoy the weather.

I've been in a bit of a rut this year, as you may have gathered," a note of sarcasm in my voice.

"You're welcome to join me, that is, if you don't have plans," I continue.

I can't believe I just invited him to stay.

I was hoping to be more elusive - absurd considering I'd already admitted my infatuation and then allowed him to penetrate me in every way imaginable.

I start to panic as my words hang unanswered in the air.

"It might be fun to do that together," another pause,"if you'd like."

A sense of relief and giddy excitement sweeps over me. Another day with him, and one more chance to crack his surface. It's always the formal types that surprise you by acting like animals in bed.

I start to sweat a little. I just really stepped in it with her.

I try and backpedal:

"But you know, Stefania, maybe it's not such a good idea. Oh and also, I only have the clothes I came here in - it was a particularly rough shift. I'd have to keep such a low profile. Nearly every woman in this town goes to my practice."

In a way I feel special that he's broken his rules with me, but I'm also not going to agree that two single, consenting adults must lurk about in the shadows. My heart sinks.

"Understood," I say cooly.

(God, aren't they all the same?)

"It's just umm, I just think...if I'm seen walking around with a much younger woman, people might assume things. They might talk. You know, this town is my livelihood. I, ... I don't want to send the wrong message."

It's so odd to hear this man sound nervous and inarticulate.

"Right, you need to appear beyond reproach.

No worries either way," I chirp, now feigning nonchalance. "Totally your call."

She opens her mouth to continue, and as if it were reflex, I place my hand over her moving lips. The sincerity in my voice surprises even me:

"Stefania, I really want to stay with you."

His energy changes completely as he leans over and kisses me once again.

"Super. I'll just freshen your clothes in the wash come morning. I'm sure I can find something we can do for a few hours while you're naked."

"Mmmmmm" he growls as he squeezes me tighter and draws me towards him so that we're spooning.

His voice growing sleepy, he asks: "so why did you write the story about us, Stefania? Why didn't you just tell me how you felt?"

I can feel my cheeks flush. Talk about being on the spot.

"Well...ummm, I didn't know your personal situation. (I still don't). I knew you weren't married...but that's all.

And I could tell you were highly ethical man, one of the things that drew me in in the first place. I've kind of had it with creeps, as you might imagine.

I didn't think you'd ever step out of line with me or any other of your patients."

I can feel him tense up.

"You ARE a highly ethical man," I correct.

"You know, Stefania...," he starts in a serious tone.

I can tell this pillow talk is about to go downhill again.

"It's ok." I interject.

"I know that we can't see each other as doctor and patient anymore. No matter what happens after today. It's a big loss for me. A good gyno is so hard to find! But when I think about how you made my body feel tonight, it was worth it a million times over."

"I suppose you can still go to one of my partners for checkups," he says, suddenly lighthearted, "but that might make me a little jealous now." He chuckles.

We lay as close together as two people can, his long frame enveloping me, my head nestled under his chin as he holds me from behind. A strange peace has settled over me. I am satisfied in mind and body for the first time in what seems like forever. I know this thing with Dr. Demarco, or Matthew, as he's told me to call him, is only temporary, but I plan to enjoy every minute.

Matthew.

I say it in my head.

It sounds so odd to me since we've been seeing each other for ten years and I've never uttered his first name.

Matthew, I mentally repeat, as I give in to a completely blissful sleep.

~~

When I first wake up in Stefania's sky blue bedroom, the sheets tightly cocooned around me, I have no idea where I am, but the feel of her silky skin pressed against my chest is an instant reminder of the passionate exchange that had transpired.

She is still sleeping peacefully next to me, a sunbeam slicing through a small opening in the curtain and shedding a diffuse, ethereal light on her pretty features.

The lightly floral smell of her hair triggers my memory and the events of last night come hurtling into my consciousness like an avalanche.

For whatever reason, I hadn't done my normal M.O. of claiming work in the morning and running out after the deed was done (although that classic will never die).

Something about Stefania just makes me feel at ease. I know this because it has been forever since I let go of my inhibitions like that.

I lift up the covers ever so slightly so I can glimpse Stefania's nude form in partial daylight. She's curled in the fetal position with her hands angelically tucked under her cheek, her curvy ass nestled firmly into my crotch.

Upon sensing me stir, she sighs, stretches a bit, then wiggles her bottom for several seconds, which immediately perks up my dick. (Women think we don't know what they're up to when they pull this move.)

I sneak away to collect myself.

A splash of cold water is just what I need to get my bearings. While rinsing out my mouth, I closely inspect my face in her bathroom mirror.

I still have my looks, save for a few lines here and there. Whatever grey has crept into my dark hair is just sparse enough to help me appear distinguished. I silently thank my body, which is, admittedly, a bit broken this morning, for allowing me to put on an impressive show by anyone's standards.

Still gazing at my own reflection, I marvel at how quickly the last thirty years have flown, and how, for this, my third act, I am starting totally from scratch.

In this moment a crushing fear overtakes me.

Regrets. All that I'd want to do over.

I've held my myself back from people.

I've put my work above all things.

I've been called a narcissist and egotist.

I am none of these things...

but I have made the mistake of being emotionally unavailable to an extreme extent. Over and over.

And here is the collateral damage -- I go home to an empty house every day. Sure, I can crack a five hundred dollar bottle of wine like it's water, but what the hell good is that?

Fuck.

I tiptoe back into bed and wrap my arms around Stefania. It isn't long before my panic subsides. Another hour passes in what feels like a minute, and the next time I wake, Stefania's on her way back into the bedroom. She's spilling out the top of a skimpy nighty with tiny blue polka dots and smiling broadly at me.

"Hey you, good sleep?," I ask him.

"Best in a long time," he responds.

"Me too," I tell him. "You released such an incredible amount of tension, Doc, I mean Matthew. "

"Which kind, sweetheart?" I ask, silently congratulating myself.

I've never seen him look quite this unkempt but seeing him in my bed, bare-chested and with his wavy hair all over the place, he's like a different man than the imposing figure in a starched white lab coat who examined in his office yesterday. It's the most delicious sight.

"All of it....

All of it," I respond.

She flips on the morning news as she lays a mug of coffee she's holding on the end table nearest me. "English muffin? It's all I've got."

I feel comfortable in her home, a rarity for me. You might imagine that I'm a dedicated creature of habit.

"Sure," I tell her. (I'm famished, actually).

Then, as promised, she scoops up my clothes from the floor and instructs me to take off my boxers, which I do in a strategic way so that she doesn't see me in any less than my full glory. Although, let's be honest, I'm pretty impressive either way.

I take a glance at her bookcase and note a very eclectic mix of philosophy, art, poetry, the odd novel, and lots of history books. I'm relieved because I'm always eager to discuss subjects outside of medicine.

She's back quickly with my food, and we spend the next few hours holding each other in bed and chatting, the TV in the background, we doze off here and there. I'm tempted to make a move on her of course, but just having her near me feels so natural, I am enjoying that in itself. Though I don't readily admit it, it feels good not to wake up alone, given the right circumstances, of course.

"I'm going to hop into the shower," she announces as she climbs over me. I can't help but watch intently as she disrobes. My eyes bore through her as she takes down her nightgown straps one by one, her round, firm breasts with the large brown nipples bounding out of their confines. She cradles them with one arm as she bends to lower the nightgown past her knees and drops it to the ground.

And there she is before me, completely nude, in full daylight now. Phenomenal.

I look her up and down from her petite ankles, up the length of her long and shapely legs, over the curve of her hips, to her breasts and then the neat landing strip of brunette hair between her legs. It's a nice contrast to the inside of her which is perfectly bare.

I feel my cock move under the covers.

One hand on her hip now, she gestures with the other, "my spare bathroom is at the end of the hall if you'd like to freshen up too. You'll find everything you need for a shower. And your clothes should be dry by now." I nod as she walks away, her fantastic ass bouncing seductively as she goes. I spend most of my shower thinking about it as I relish the feeling of the hot water on my sore muscles.

Stefania emerges from her bedroom looking totally refreshed, her still damp hair tightening into waves collected at her shoulders. She's wearing another sundress with a subdued floral print. This one is shorter than her last but with a higher neckline. The impressive swell of her breasts allow it to be alluring in the ladylike way.

"The dryer is over there, babe,"she says motioning towards a utility closet. I tighten the towel around my waist and head over to grab my boxers, shirt and pants.

While I dress, she throws on some flip-flops that are placed by the door. As she bends over, I glimpse her pink cotton bikini undies. They are skimpily cut and show good portion of her ass cheeks.

"Ready to go?," she chirps. "Ready as I'll ever be," I say, saying a silent thanks as I grab my sunglasses and baseball cap out of my work bag. My plan is to throw one or both items on should I see anyone I know.

"Why don't we walk to the park by the pier?," I offer. There's a big field with plenty of space to stretch out under the trees (away from any prying eyes).

"Perfect. I'll bring a something for us to sit on."

The weather outside is sunny and warm but with almost no humidity, close to perfect for a leisurely stroll. As we walk, I can't help but continue to be paranoid of being seen. It's a work day so the streets are fairly empty but I deliberately choose a route that keeps us away from the general vicinity of my office. It's a beautiful day to be by the water. The clear skies allow for a flawless view of the city across the river.

"Ooh, there's the lobster roll truck," she says.

"Wanna?," she asks me, cute and childlike. My stomach is grumbling something awful again.

"Sure."

"Be right back," she says as she bounces away, returning a few minutes later with the food and two fresh lemonades." I'm still pretty famished so it all tastes especially good. I think about how I haven't had a lemonade in years. Serious people don't drink lemonade. Iced tea, maybe.

"Wait a sec," Stefania says as she rummages through her tote bag emerging with a fairly large silver flask, a big smile across her face.

I glance at my watch to see if it's noon yet.

"Are you trying to take advantage of me?," I ask her. "Been there, done that, Doc, but this is my first day off in ages and I plan on living it up. It feels good breaking the rules with you," she grins mischievously as she pours an absurd amount of vodka into my big styrofoam cup. I glance around to make sure no one is looking because I can't help but kiss her.

As she nibbles at her lunch, her knees bent and feet in the grass, I can see her a tiny bit of her pink cotton panties through the gap between her shins. My eyes fixate on the small mound created by her pussy lips as they are pressed together. I envision removing her panties and slipping my tongue between her legs again.

As the effects of the vodka begin to scramble our brains, Stefania and I talk for what ends up being another few hours under that tree. She has a million questions for me, all of which I've heard before, but her excitement for getting to know me is infectious. I've never loved opening up, but I find, to my surprise, that I'm happy to indulge her curiosity.

How amazing is it to help a baby be born? Am I sick of looking at lady parts by the end of the week? Does it take me more time to get aroused because I'm desensitized? What made me choose this line of work?

One thing is for sure. People have a real fascination my medical specialty. Especially about what motivates a man to be a gynecologist.

No, we aren't fetishists, at least not in the context of work. We just really appreciate women and also find the whole process of reproduction, birth and maturation to be fascinating.

Delivering babies is a miraculous thing that honestly never loses its luster. As I've told you, in the context of exam room, I try not to think of what other miracles can come as a result of a woman's body, but those are pretty fantastic too.

Now I also have some questions for her, but I hold back because I sense her wounds are still raw.

I mainly wonder what kind of man would leave this girl. And why.

People change and relationships aren't easy. I am a prime example, but the thought of her hurting and alone disturbs me. Frankly, it really scares me that I even care, especially since I barely know her.

Our conversation still flows effortlessly. I learn about her interests. Much in line with what I saw on her bookcase. She likes to write and say's she's a very good cook. She makes her living as a director of sales for a well known technology company. She seems quite successful at it. Understanding people and persuading them is her stock and trade.

Tell me about it.

She's Italian too and an only child. She collects wine (which reminds me, I was interested in checking out her wine collection more closely).

I learn that she'd traveled a decent amount before and during her marriage but she's eager to do more.

"Do you want children?"

As soon as the question escapes my lips I feel like grabbing it right out of the air. She takes a swig straight from the flask then casts her eyes down a bit.

Yeah.

"Just not with the wrong person. But if I run out of time, I am ok with that. I have the means to take care of a baby but I don't want to raise a child alone. A good dad is so important."