Playing Doctor (story)

Two weeks in hospital, and it wasn't until my libido started kicking in that I knew I was getting better.

My lover had been coming by every day, sometimes twice a day, and he teased me. He wore that cologne that always made me want to pin him down and nibble him all over. He wore silky boxers and shaved skin underneath them, and invited my hands to feel. He shaved his face every other day so he could tease my neck and shoulders with his scruff, making me shiver and squirm. And he teased my nipples.

My nipples always stand up and say hello when he is around, and for some reason they were terribly sensitive, so each tweak or brush of his fingers made me gasp. I begged him to leave me alone, to not get me worked up, that it was not fair to arouse me and leave me hanging, but he delighted in teasing me.

One night he did so rather mercilessly and then offered me a piece of chocolate to consummate my desires. I feel asleep with the richness on my tongue and was swept away to the land of endorphin dreams.

I awakened to the sound of the bed rail being lowered in the darkness. There was a masculine presence in the room with me, warm and gentle, and his hands slipped under the sheets, massaging my legs. The hands were tender and skilled and they worked up to my thighs, sliding the hospital gown up as his hands moved to cradle my hips. I sighed voluptuously, and felt the warmth of my center ache for fulfillment. So much teasing. So much unconsummated craving. Gently, he spread my thighs until they formed a vee, and then his hands touched me, explored me, seeking proof of my arousal. Which he soon found, oh yes, and his fingers explorered further, deeper, opening me.

I thrashed a bit in my bed, wet and aching, and begged him to cover me. I wanted to feel him on me and in me. Gently, oh so gently, he turned me on my side, and lay behind me, pressing his warmth against my back. I felt the brush of whiskers on my shoulders and moaned, and pressed my ass back into him, into the heat of his groin. I felt him pulse against me in response, and smiled with joy. His hand guided his cock between my thighs, into the slippery wetness there, and I soon felt the nudge of his head between my pussy lips, tickling my clit. We rocked gently that way for a long while, and then he drew back and pressed upwards a bit, and then he was there, yes right there, the mushroom head pressing into my opening, and slowly, ever so slowly, gaining deeper access to my secrets. I tried to rock back against him but he shushed me, and I held still as his hand moved to hold my hip. His body strained against mine, and his fingers gripped me hard as he pressed onward and inward. When he could go no farther, when he was pressed up hard against my ass, he slid his hand into the vee of my thighs, seeking my clit. when he found it, I gasped and bucked, and he again shushed me. His lips pressed to my shoulder and then his mouth opened, and he sank his teeth into me oh so gently.

Impaled like a butterfly on the pin of his cock, I held still, caught between his teeth and his hands. There was no movement but the gentle press of his fingers into my clit, and the clench of my muscles around him. No friction, no movement, he did not want to hurt me, I knew. I hung in sensuous delirium for endless moments. And then he rolled my clit between his fingers. That movement, that act of rolling my clit between his fingers, was like the flick of a thumb across a cigarette lighter. It ignited in me an orgasm both hot and gentle, one that pulsed though me and made me catch my breath. His fingers covered my mouth and I bit into them as I shook with drowsy pleasure. I heard his gasp and low moan, and he thrust hard against me, and his fingers pressed into my clit, and then he came, his cock pulsing again and again, and I drifted off to sleep, warm and loved, and sated.