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The adventures of Sarah and her intrepid Clit Master Stimulator 9000 continues as together they bring more orgasms to deserving women.
For their earlier adventures, please read...
The Love Stimulator
The Love Stiumlator: A Wet Threesome
Enjoy!
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Work was a mad house that afternoon. There were at least a dozen active dumpster fires burning all around me at the office, when the Google alert that I forgot I had set six months ago for my dental checkup pinged to remind me that I had an appointment in an hour. This was my chance to escape. Without even thinking, I snatched my laptop and the few papers that I needed for the report I was working on, shoved them into my bag, and ran for the door.
Halfway to the door, my boss Linda saw me trying to escape and slammed her desk phone down and leapt to her feet. Then in a surprisingly athletic feat for someone in their late-50's and in heels, she screamed, "Stop that woman!" and ran towards me at full speed.
I thought for sure Linda was going to Rugby tackle me at the knees, so right before she did, I pulled out my phone, shoved it in her face, and screamed "I have a medical appointment! I have a medical appointment!"
"Jesus Christ!" Linda swore before she grabbed for her reading glasses where she could read what my phone said.
I quickly popped my phone into my pocket to stop her from seeing that it was only a dental checkup. Then I smoothed down my hair, before I calmly said, "Sorry. I have a medical appointment this afternoon."
"What appointment?" Linda snapped.
"Sorry," I said as I continued to back away towards the door. "You can't ask that. Doctor patient confidentiality, GDPR, and all that."
"Fine," Linda said in a defeated tone before she changed tack. "Do you need someone to drive you? I could be your chaperone in case the doctor tries feeling you up!" she yelled as I hit the office door and ran for it.
A short bus ride later, I was really starting to look forward to the cool comfort of my dentists' office. The place was owned and run by a husband and wife team of dentists by the name of Samir and Fatima Ali (DDS). Although Samir wasn't my type, he was a very good looking older Arab man with perfect brown skin, piercing dark eyes, and of course perfectly white teeth. I admit that I've felt a flutter or two before when he stuck his gloved finger in my mouth, but then again, I felt the same about his wife Fatima. Fatima was a busty, but stern Arab woman with thick, dark eyebrows, and jet-black hair with a single slate grey streak running through it, who liked to lecture me about my inability to floss. The office itself was run by the cutest gay white boy named Brett who always was on top of everything. He was excellent with all of the patients, knew all of the treatments by heart, and he always made sure that the cucumber water that was available in the waiting room was fresh.
Although I was a half hour early for my appointment, I was really looking forward to taking a seat in one of their fluffy armchairs in the waiting room, while I sipped a cool glass of cucumber water, and worked on the report I needed to have in by tomorrow.
When I stepped in the dentist office, the first thing I ran into was the largest queue of people waiting for the front desk that I've ever seen here. Naturally I got in the queue because I'm British, but before I had a chance to find out why the queue was so long, I had to jump on a work call. While I fought with my co-workers, I noticed several of the people in front of me stormed out of the dentist's office, and one even kicked the bin on her way out. Eventually after several minutes of me waiting in the queue, I made it to the front desk expecting to see the office manager Brett, but no.
"Wait? You're not Brett?" I said to the young receptionist sitting at the messy front desk, who looked like she was about to have a breakdown.
"No. I'm not Brett," she said as she rolled her eyes and let out a menacing huff. "And before you ask, he no longer works here."
"Oh," I said a little taken back. "Well anyways I have a 4:30 appointment."
"With which one?" the receptionist demanded.
"Which one?" I asked a little confused.
To answer my question the receptionist jabbed a finger towards the two picture frames mounted to the wall. One had a photo of Dr Fatima Ali smiling and the other, where the photo of Dr Samir Ali had set, looked like it had been literally ripped from the wall.
"Oh," I said as I quickly checked my phone, still unsure what was going on. I quickly read through my emails, "Fatima. It's with Dr Fatima."
"Okay," said the receptionist as she relaxed just a little. "Dr Fatima is absolutely all alone today so unless it's an absolute emergency you might want to reschedule." said the receptionist as she pointed to the five angry people that were sitting in the waiting room.
"It's just a checkup," I said as I started to dread the idea of having to go back to work. "I guess I can reschedule."
"No wait!" the receptionist shouted out as she started to frantically look through the heap of paperwork that was strung across her desk. "You stay!"
"Honestly, it's not an emergency or anything," I offered.
"I know, but Dr Fatima needs the cash and you're an easy case," exhaled the receptionist as she pointed to an empty chair in the waiting room.
I thought about rescheduling anyways, but there was no way in hell that I wanted to go back to work, and besides if I managed to stall for another hour, I could get my husband to make dinner for me and the kids tonight. So, in the end I took a seat next to the table on which the green cucumber water sat undrunk. I reached for a cup, but I was suddenly struck by how oddly green it was today, plus there was a slight smell that made me think otherwise. So instead, I just pulled out my laptop, put in my wireless earbuds, and got some work done.
An hour flew by as I bopped along to some music while I typed away. When I looked up from my laptop again it was 5:30 and there were still four of us waiting to be seen. I sent a quick text to my husband 'complaining' about my situation and how 'unfortunately' he would need to make dinner tonight, when suddenly, from the examination room Dr Fatima burst through the door. She was wearing a surgical mask and I still had my earbuds in, so I couldn't hear what she said, but she called out someone's name again, and this time everyone in the place looked directly at me.
"Shit," I said as I pulled my earbuds from my ears.
"Sarah!" Dr Fatima said crossly.
"Oh shit! That's me!" I said as I quickly closed my laptop and shoved it in my bag.
Dr Fatima was a reasonably tall--maybe 5'8''--Lebanese woman in her late forties, with a healthy arse and big boobs. My family and I had been coming to her dental surgery since we moved to this neighbourhood nearly ten years ago and Fatima and her family lived local as well, so after years of running into each other at the grocery store, the local park, and of course here in her chair, we were sort of on a first name basis.
I followed Fatima as she raced back into her examination room. The usual dental technician was missing so it was just her and I. Plus the place was messier than usual.
"Please tell me you don't need a root canal today," Fatima whined as she took off her mask and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Because some damn kid that came in last week got all of my techs sick." Besides looking exhausted like she had been on her feet all day with patients, Fatima's eyes were red like she had been crying.
"No, just a check-up," I said. I knew the routine, so I hung up my work bag and jacket on the hook on the back of the door, and then I climbed into the examination chair and prepared to open wide, but it dawned on me that I should ask, "Are you okay?"
