//Part 2: in a non-pandemic world without STDs. That's what fantasy is for, right? Involves a younger Aisha from the CDG series but this series can be read as a stand alone
Trigger warning: involves 2-3 lines that imply that a character has a history of sexual assault//
The door bells rings and I get up grudgingly, carrying my glass of Bunnahabhain with me. This drink was hard earned, after having 3 more unplanned days of babysitting since Sharmila's vacation turned into an urgent work trip, that she would have cancelled if I hadn't been able to move things around. Luckily, she did manage to thoughtfully coordinate another sleepover for Lila, so I could... do nothing.
I get to the door and stand on tiptoe to peer through the peephole.
Dark hair and broad-shouldered, I see a Dr. Al Baqir, with his jaw slightly clenched, limbs loose. I wait a few seconds, watching him shift his weight, looking at his watch, before I open the door.
"You're interrupting me," I say with a half-smile, as I swirl my drink at him.
He looks gorgeous, achingly so as his eyes light up with a smile.
"I think that's my alcohol you have there, Aisha," He says, as he takes a step towards me. At this proximity, I smell his minty breath.
Fuck.
"How do you know?"
"Well, if you've finished it already, I might need to help you find one of your own to sort through your drinking problem."
"Do you always google the ladies you fuck, Dr. Baqir?"
"Only the interesting ones," he says, as he moves close into my personal space.
I step away from the door, letting him stride in.
"And are the mild insults reserved only for the interesting ones?" I ask, shutting the door behind him.
His light brown eyes sparkle with mischief.
"Only for the really interesting ones," he says, the depth of his cologne getting stronger more arousing, as he closes the distance between us.
His lips find mine roughly, and I tilt upward, opening my mouth for him, savoring his scent, his breath, the press of his chest against mine, the firmness of his hands on my ass, his cock against my belly.
Before I'm ready to end this kiss, I pull away.
He grins, looking around before reaching for the bottle on the side table. His lips latch onto the bottle as he swigs, and it reminds me of all the other things his lips has latched onto in our last encounter.
Fuck.
"How are your hips?" He asks, putting the bottle down. "I didn't mean to pound you that hard."
I raise my eyebrows, surprised he noticed during our quick fuck.
He mirrors my eyebrow raise - "I am an ER doctor, you know?"
I laugh out loud and move closer to him, my body less than an inch away, feeling the heat coming off him.
"I don't think you mentioned that before, Dr. Baqir," I tease, smiling at him.
He squirms before aligning his confidence back in place, and I know my doctor dig was perfect.
He's only a little taller than me, but enough for me to need to tilt upward, take in his set jawline. He looks turned on as his hand trace my cheekbone, goes over the bridge of my nose, landing softly on my full lips.
"You have the cutest nose, Dr. M."
I stand closer, letting my crotch press against him, feeling the outline of his cock that seems to have more blood flow than usual. Congratulations, Aisha.
"Thank you. So how did you know I'd be here?" I ask, as I grind my hips against him.
"I have my contacts," he says evasively, pulling me closer onto him. He parts my robe with his hands, grabbing my breasts.
I groan, sliding my bare cunt onto his thigh, grinding on the cotton of his scrubs, knowing I'm going to stain him, loving that I'm going to stain him.
"Pinch my nipples, please," I mutter, my hands gripping into his back muscles.
He pulls, and I groan loudly, shuddering out an orgasm, dripping wetness onto his leg.
"What the fuck, Aisha!"
"I told you I come easily," I say with a mischievous smile.
He grabs my hips and pulls me back onto his hips, so I can feel his cock, a reminder that only one of us had come.
"Are you sure you didn't mean to pound me that hard?" I tease, as I continue to grind onto him.
"Did you like it?" He asks, and I feel a finger wrap around a strand of my hair. He gently tugs - the slight pain delicious, arousing.
I swallow a moan, as my pussy drips more onto my thigh. I'm not quite ready to verbally own up to the effect the tug has on me, and so I pull away.
"I liked the whisky more," I tease, as I take a sip from my glass.
"Damn, I might really need to schedule that appointment for you." He moves to the open kitchen, peering into cabinets before he finds a glass.
"May I?" He asks, with a bit of a smirk, letting me know he thinks it's absurd that he has to ask for whisky that belonged to him a couple of days ago.
I shrug, before wrapping my fingers around the neck of the bottle.
"Sure," I say, walking backwards towards the stairs, smiling at him as he catches on.
"Am I supposed to follow you?" he asks as he moves quickly towards me, all thoughts of glasses forgotten.
"Only if you want what's going upstairs," I say with a smile.
He grab me around the waist, turning me towards him, and again I'm shocked at his strength.
He lifts me up and drapes me across his shoulder, and I automatically raise my hand, protecting his and my body parts from the bottle of whisky, while my body floods with adrenalin.
"What the fuck, Al," I yelp, annoyed, horrified, and impressed, as he climbs up the stairs, jostling me only a little. "Put me the fuck down!"
"Really?" He asks, midstairs, and gently moves me off him. My feet find a step and I steady myself, trying to recalibrate my arousal and panic, a confusing combination.
"Yeah!" I hear the change in my voice, going from cool easy lover, to someone more panicked, raw.
"I can't be the first person who's done this," he asks, and I notice we're eye to eye since I'm on a step higher than him.
"Exactly, asshole," I mutter, taking a few deep breaths, tugging my robe back over my ass, noticing the stick of pussy juice between my thighs, reminding me of where I am.
When I look up, I see him shift from confusion to understanding.
"I'm sorry, Aisha. What do you need me to do?" His light brown eyes go soft, which right now is more unbearable than the overconfidence that lived there before.
"You didn't know, it's okay, just tell me before you do it next time," I say as my hand lands on his chest, pulling us closer.
"Are you sure?" He asks, gently holding my hand in place.
"Yes," I say, smiling, as I redirect from this god awful vulnerability. "I'd like to stain your scrubs more."
"What the fuck!? When did this happen?" Al says, looking legitimately upset at pussy juice on his scrubs.
"That's what happens when a lady orgasms. Or have you never made another woman come before?" I tease, as I play with my right nipple suggestively.
I watch him think, weigh out what just happened and what is happening, his eyes honing in on my tits.
I smile at him, wet my thumb with my tongue before I pull at my nipple, letting my hips roll as I get more aroused. I know where I need him to be, what I want him to focus on, and so I tease him more, letting moans escape as I masturbate in front of him.
His attention is arousing, and I see the outline of his cock through his scrubs. I smile again, encouraging him to join me here, now. And he does.
Al grabs my ass, pulling me in for a kiss that is rough, aggressive. I can't tell if this aggressiveness is his or mine, I just know I need it. He moves up a step and pushes me against the wall, yanking the left shoulder of my robe off, baring my breast. His mouth circles my nipple and he sucks.
"You'll tell me if you need me to slow down?"
"Yes, fuck. Keep going," I moan, holding his head with my free hand, while the bottle feels heavy in the other.
I pull the cork open, and slowly dribble the liquor down my breast while his hand pushes my thighs apart and finds my wet clit.
He drinks the drops of single malt off me again, gently using his teeth on my tit. He circles my pussy, playing with my labia, and I groan, letting the bottle sit on the steps, wanting to have my hands free for us.
