Work Text:
Mel had a secret.
It had begun so long ago that it felt fixed and rigid, both the secret itself and its hidden nature. It started like this:
In early middle school, before their mom got sick, it was Mel’s responsibility to get herself and Becca home and safe until dinner time. She, the keeper of the keys, would unlatch the door and put their lunchboxes in the dishwasher. She would make two peanut butter sandwiches and pour two glasses of apple juice. They would eat in silence, and then, while Mel cleared away the dishes, Becca would go upstairs and shut herself away for an hour or two of jigsaw puzzles or reading; the necessary comedown from a regular school day which, for someone like Becca, was the equivalent of an LSD trip.
On one of those afternoons, Mel was in the computer room when she did something she knew she wasn’t supposed to. She opened Google and typed pictures of people having sex.
It took years for her to make the association between the way the pictures made her feel and how to manipulate herself to a climax. But for the Mel she was then, the way they made her feel inside was more than enough. Tingly and twitchy and guilty and bold. It became her new favorite pastime, replacing the hour she’d normally spend on Neopets with enormous breasts and hairless vulvas and penises that looked like they’d been chiselled out of stone, all so foreign to the teenage body she assessed in her bedroom mirror.
Hour by hour, day by day, she followed links and refined her searches, amassing near-infinite quantities of pictures and videos to look at, a daunting task for a natural-born completionist like herself. She began to learn what she liked: which clips she’d think about later, in bed, and which search terms she would try again tomorrow.
And this, this was her secret. She was no prude at twenty-nine, she no longer held shame for discovering and enjoying pornography as a teenager. But what she liked, what had chased her into adulthood, that was what she admitted to no one. Ever.
It had begun with very large penises. And then anal. And then group sex: spitroasting, double penetration, and, eventually, more. And then rough sex, hard and angry and selfish. And then restraints. And then, her point of no return, the discovery of the existence of rape fantasies.
She was a proper grown up now, an emergency medicine resident with an apartment and insurance policies and a will. That didn’t stop the guilt that sometimes consumed her even as she masturbated, always on the hunt for her new favorite video. More often it didn’t come until afterwards, when she cleared her search history: gang rape, rough anal, double penetration, pillory sex.
Most nights it was how she ended her day. Or vice versa, on night shifts. Brush teeth, wash face, set alarm, find a video. She would watch a CGI woman twist in chains, trying fruitlessly to escape the oncoming onslaught from a pair of warrior men with cocks as long as their forearms, and Mel would rub at her clit until she was excited enough to slide in a vibrator and rush towards release. And then she would sleep, sated and brainless.
One morning in mid-March, rain beating down against her window, she woke and felt her desire already there, perhaps from a dream she could no longer remember, or just a hormonal shift as her body prepared for ovulation. Knowing there was time, but not a lot of it, she opened her phone and chased another high, heading straight to the shower afterwards to wash the insides of her thighs and fortify herself for another shift in the Pitt.
Arriving just a few minutes before 7, Mel stood under the board and waited for rounds to begin. “Auto versus ped, motorcycle, contractions, stroke, motorcycle, sidewalk slip, MVC, stroke,” she muttered to herself.
“What do you think,” Frank asked, standing beside her and mirroring her pose, arms folded and frowning at the board, “bad luck or a full moon?”
“Is it a full moon?”
“I thought you would know,” he shrugged, pulling out his phone.
“We should have the moon phases up on the board.”
“And a live weather feed. Here we go, full moon in six days.”
“So it’s only going to get worse.”
“Ah, Mel, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s only going to get more interesting.” He nudged her with an elbow. “Speaking of interesting, you mentioned a very intriguing study yesterday —“
“Oh, I completely forgot.”
“— and very uncharacteristically forgot to send it to me, so —“
Mel pulled her phone out of her pocket.
“— I was up half the night wondering about study methodologies for female cardiac arrest during the economic crash in Latvia —“
“Iceland,” she corrected, typing her passcode.
“— cute lockscreen,” he commented, looking over her shoulder at Becca’s charcoal drawing, “— and that certainly explains why I couldn’t find the thing on Goo—“
Opening her phone for the first time since she’d left her bed, what greeted her was a page with the title Bound and Raped Hard. The video automatically resumed playing, a close up as a second hard cock rammed violently in the woman’s ass, cutting to a shot of her straining against metal cuffs. Underneath the video, an assuredly AI-generated blonde bent over and proffered her bare breasts, promising all you could ever want if you clicked on the ad for her chat service.
Mel had never opened a new tab so fast in her life. She concentrated on typing female cardiac Iceland economic collapse harder than she had focused on her MCAT. “If you could just … pretend you didn’t see that.”
“Didn’t see what?” he asked, but his reflexes were off by a beat. “I’m gonna grab a coffee before rounds. Can I get you one?”
At bedtime, Mel forewent her regular routine and lay in bed, bathed by the flickering light of her laptop playing sitcoms she’d seen a hundred times. She knew she would need distraction to fall asleep, something to concentrate on that wasn’t the burning humiliation she’d already relived every second for the last sixteen hours. Sixteen hours times sixty minutes times sixty seconds. 3600 seconds in an hour … 3600 by five is 18000, plus 3600 is 21600, add the 360000 … 381600 seconds of red hot shame, with no relief in sight.
Her phone pinged. She grasped for it, eager for another distraction.
I’m not sure I can keep pretending
She opened her messages and began typing her apology, heart in her mouth as she castigated herself for not saying it to him in person today. I’m so sorry you had to see that, it was completely inappropriate. I understand if yo
Another message came through before she could finish.
I’m dying of curiosity, and I think you might have corrupted me
(not in a bad way lol)
Can I ask you a question about it?
If she’d just waited a moment before rushing in, she could have read the notifications all at once, analyzed his tone, psyched herself up or down. She could have problem-solved. But now she was boxed in by read receipts. He was sitting on the other end, watching the dots on his screen.
I’m so sorry you had to see that, it was completely inappropriate. I understand if you feel weird around me now. I’m really embarrassed, but I can answer your question, if that helps make things better
She had to wait an eternity as he typed and typed and typed. The sitcom was suddenly an irritation; she snapped the laptop shut so she put all her attention on those three dots.
I get why you would feel embarrassed (I would be too, if it was me), but I wish you wouldn’t be. I think I might be into this too, so now we’re an equal level of embarrassed, right?
Anyway, now you’ve allowed me a question, I realise I actually have a whole bunch. I really am curious what you think about this, but don’t feel like you have to respond. You and I are okay - you don’t need to “make things better”.
Do you think it's misogynistic for a guy to enjoy stuff like that?
Would some women enjoy role playing that kind of thing (or parts of it) in real life, or is it just a fantasy? (I probably sound like an idiot - I know BDSM is a thing, this just seems different? Or “more”, in some way?)
What do you think it is that draws women to watching this? I’m not being facetious, I really am clueless lol
How do you bring this up with a partner without scaring them off? I can’t imagine how to do it without seeming like a predator. I imagine (hope) it’s different for women - have any of your boyfriends ever brought it up first?
First, she read it fast, and then she read it slow. Another message appeared:
Sorry for the essay
She sent back:
Just organizing my thoughts
And then she read it again.
I don’t think it’s inherently misogynistic for a man to enjoy it. It’s more of a yellow flag, I think. If there are lots of other yellow flags, that’s a concern. If it’s all green flags, then I wouldn’t be worried. I have no idea what gender theorists or sex therapists have to say on the topic.
I think some women would definitely enjoy doing this in real life.
I don’t really know what draws women to it (I’ve never researched this, if that’s not already obvious). I guess there’s something appealing about being so irresistible that a man can’t control himself? If that makes sense?
Honestly, I have no idea how to bring this up with someone. I’ve never talked about it out loud before, even over text
She reread her draft and sent it, then added:
BTW, I definitely think I’m still more embarrassed than you. But glad to hear we’re okay
While Mel waited for him to respond, she scrolled back up and read his message for the fourth time. This time, she noticed that her breathing was shallow. She adjusted her legs and realised she was wet.
You are making sense. I always appreciate how open you are with your thoughts and opinions, even when you’re not an expert. Guess I have some research of my own to do
I can’t even fathom what you’d have to do for us not to be okay. Secret double life as a serial killer? A literal fascist? Even then, I’d assume you had a good reason for it lol
Mel snorted and grinned to herself.
Thanks for sharing. Sleep well, and see you tomorrow
You too, she responded. See you in the morning
When she woke, there were two messages waiting for her. One was a link to a video titled From Behind POV Gangbang Squirting. The other said:
Are we equally embarrassed now?
After her shift, she rushed home and went straight to her bedroom, one hand pulling up the video, the other rucking off her pants. She’d been anticipating this for hours. If she was under oath, she’d have to admit she’d been aroused all day. How could it possibly fade when every time she turned around, she’d catch a glimpse of blue eyes watching her; when it was literally Frank’s job to give her orders and advice and praise; when he held every door open for her; when their bodies would duck and weave around each other in the intimate proximities of gurneys.
The vibrator slid in easily, and she came so quickly it was almost unsatisfying. She turned it off while she browsed for another video, trying to trick her body so she could catch it off-guard next time.
She was three minutes into another video, forcing herself to be patient so she could be at an apex of desperation before she started touching herself again, when a notification banner appeared on her screen. The only reason she opened it was because it was from Frank.
Surprised by Burglar was the name of the video he’d sent this time, along with a message: Do you like this one?
Mel switched on her vibrator once the burglar bound the woman’s hands with a belt, and came, gasping and twitching once he’d flipped her over and pounded into her from behind.
Yes, she responded. What do you think of this one? She sent him a link to what she’d been watching before: a woman suspended by manacled wrists, being ravaged through the bars of a cage.
She withdrew her vibrator, a gush of slick pooling under her thighs and draping its shaft in thready wisps. The shame rushed in: what on earth was she doing? Responsible, sensible Mel.
This is really hot
But I prefer it when the woman orgasms too
Are there parts you like/don’t like?
Responsible, sensible Mel was sucker punched by his second message. She replied with shaking fingers:
I don’t like spitting, or when they call her names (whore/slut/etc)
I do like it when she’s held down, or can’t move. And when she doesn’t want it, but has to take it
She felt sick as soon she pressed send, but the Read annotation appeared immediately. For two minutes, Mel lay on her stomach and alternated between staring at her phone and covering her eyes with her hands. It wasn’t until then that she realised that perhaps — at this exact second — Frank was masturbating, and she involuntarily ground her pelvis into the mattress.
Noted, he finally sent, four excruciating minutes later. Will keep that in mind.
Another question, if I’m allowed? Everything you’ve sent was animated - do you not like stuff with real actors?
She tried not to think about what he looked like when he came, head thrown back and throat distended.
No, I like it, but I prefer watching computer generated stuff
Don’t like thinking about exploitation/trafficking/coercion for actresses
Not so sexy, but honest. Didn’t he say he appreciated her openness?
Oh, ick, that’s such a good point
You staying up all night tonight?
That’s the goal, she answered, but I normally crash out around 4
Pity I’m on days, or I’d invite you over to stay up late and watch a movie :)
For the rest of the night and well into the early hours of the morning, Mel periodically opened her phone and stared at his message, trying to figure out if it meant what she wanted it to mean, or if she was just hopelessly thirsty.
Not long before 4am, she lay on her stomach and thrust her rabbit against her clit, thinking of his pelvis hard against her ass. She sent him a video of a woman held down on a bed, being spitroast with her head lolling off the edge and her shoulders held down. Do you like it when there’s more than one guy?
She woke at noon, attributing yesterday’s four orgasms as the reason she slept much later than she normally could. As soon as she opened her eyes, she patted around for her phone.
I do, but I’m not sure I’d like that in real life. Too much ego to share the spotlight? lol
And also, at 11am:
Miss you when you’re on the opposite shift
When she arrived at work that evening, she sought him out immediately, just to reassure herself that she was still Mel and he was still Frank.
“How was day shift?” she asked.
“Lonely.” He smiled — properly, with dimples — and gripped her shoulder as he slid past.
In the final hour of night shift, right as she was sure she was on the verge of fatigue-induced hysteria, her phone vibrated. When she saw Frank’s name and a URL, she shoved it back in her pocket without reading further.
He tapped her on the shoulder right before handover. “Still alive?”
“No.” She closed her eyes and rested one temple on his upper arm.
“Five more minutes, then you can go home and unwind,” he said, uncharacteristically quiet. She almost moaned.
Before she put her car into gear, she checked what he had sent. The title was Made to Suck a Dozen Cocks.
Are blowjobs sexy for women, or is that just a guy thing?
Also, is the more than one guy thing a fantasy, or do you like that in real life?
Fearing he’d open his phone on the floor during day shift, she waited until 6pm to respond.
Never done it in real life, and I don’t think (?) I’d want to
I don’t like watching blowjobs, but giving them is very sexy
What do you think of anal? Is it just a stereotype that guys always want it?
And she added a link to a video of a woman being pounded into a sofa, writhing and struggling until she screamed, the camera tight on her empty pussy when she came.
He loped around the corner as she put her bag in a locker and leaned next to her. “I didn’t think it was a good idea to read your message at work,” he murmured.
“Definitely the right move.” In a triumph of the wills, sensible Mel won out, and she managed to abstain from begging him to send her a photo of his cock.
Her phone didn’t buzz until she was walking to her car the next morning.
It’s definitely hot, but kind of intimidating? Never done it in real life
I’m almost scared to ask you back. What you said about blow jobs nearly killed me
Do you like this kind of thing?
She didn’t click the link until she was safely inside her car, doors locked for added security. Tied up and Double Stuffed by Ruthless Fucking Machine.
Yes, she answered immediately, resisting the urge to use all-caps. I do like that. I guess I’m into not having a choice?
He had been waiting for her response.
That makes sense to me, though I think I’m the opposite
You must be in the parking lot?
Drive safe and have sweet dreams
BTW I have the kids today, so I might be slow to answer
She drove home in half a trance, wondering what his own sweet dreams were about. She replied once she was through the front door:
Home safe. Have a good day xx
Responsible Mel may have won last night’s battle, but she was losing the war.
It was, perhaps, because she hadn’t spent more than a few seconds in his physical proximity for 71 hours, that she summoned her bravery and messaged him a few minutes before she walked into night shift:
Hope you had a good day with your kids
BTW I think anal is really hot. It’s probably my favorite thing to watch. Never done it with a guy, but have tried it on my own with a toy
She sent him a clip of a woman forced down on the ground by a boot across her neck. A man thrust in and out of her ass, the camera panning to show a queue of aroused men, awaiting their turn.
Her phone pinged at 6:45am and her heart rate doubled, knowing he must be about to walk through the door.
“Hi.” He put his elbows on the counter and leaned down, his head adjacent to the monitor she was charting on. “What’s plans today?”
“I spend the day with my sister on the night-to-day break. I think she wants to see a movie.” Unable to tear her eyes from his face, she watched as his glance traced over her chest and back up.
“I hope Becca’s tastes lean action-packed and fast-paced. To keep you awake.”
She smiled. “More like cheesy and predictable. I’m just glad the new Shrek doesn’t come out until summer.”
“Christ, they’re still making those?” He shook his head. “And does Becca stay the night? Shrek marathon?”
“No, I take her home after dinner. Early bed for me, before day shift.” She felt confident Frank could tell she was tachycardic from sight alone. Hell, Mohan probably could, standing twenty feet clear across the hall.
He stood and stretched, clasping his elbows over his head and leaning side to side. “Well, I hope you sleep well tonight.”
“I’m sure I will.” A sliver of belly showed above his pants, a line of dark hair disappearing up under the seam, and down behind the drawstring.
She was so distracted, she forgot all about her unread messages until she switched on the ignition.
Fucking hell, you are actually killing me. I haven’t thought about anything else for the last twelve hours
Would you ever want to try it in real life, or is it just a fantasy? Or would you ever do it with a toy in front of someone?
Before she napped, she thrust her vibrator against her g-spot and imagined him watching her, sucking bruises onto her neck as he tugged at himself.
At 7pm on the dot, as she waited for the pasta water to boil, she excused herself to the bathroom.
I would try it in real life, I’ve just always been too self-conscious to bring it up. And I’ve never thought about your other question, but that sounds like it would be hot, if a guy liked it too
Her phone vibrated as she stirred in salt and linguine. She didn’t dare to check it until she was drying the dishes and Becca was putting on her shoes.
What time are you taking your sister back?
Leaving now, she answered. I’ll be home again in 40 mins
Forty-four minutes later, as she fumbled for her house keys, she read the messages he had sent precisely four minutes earlier.
I’m nervous to tell you this. Maybe I’m crossing a line? If I am, you can tell me. We’ll still be okay
I think you deserve to know - when you say things like you’re too self-conscious, and that you like the idea of seeming irresistible
You are so irresistible to me
She exhaled heavily as she unlocked the door, slamming it shut and resting her head against the frame while never looking away from the screen.
I think about you all the time, every inch of you
And I haven’t been watching videos lately, because all I need is to imagine you
She answered before she could think of what more to say, thinking of him watching the screen for five minutes as he waited for her to get home.
You’re not crossing a line
He responded instantly, as she kicked off her shoes.
Do you think of me?
Always, she typed unsteadily, especially when I touch myself
Her phone pinged three times as she raced to her bedroom, tore off her jeans, and pressed a wand to her clit. She didn’t read until she switched it on.
Fucking hell, Mel
You have no idea how hard I am for you
Will you touch yourself before you go to sleep? Will you think of me?
Yes, she answered, watching the screen until she came. She rode out her orgasm right into another, rubbing the wand against herself until her clit turned painful. She thought of him kneeling across her legs and not allowing her to remove it, even as she begged and cried.
I don’t think I can stay awake much longer
He took a minute to respond, sixty seconds while she closed her eyes and imagined his cum seeping through his fingers, tight around his cock. Sleep had already half-claimed her when the notification startled her eyes open.
Go to sleep honey
I’ll see you in the morning xo
She fell asleep with her phone still clutched in her hand, just in case he sent one more message.
The timestamp read 11:33pm. It hadn’t woken her.
Would you send me a link to the toy you use? I want to picture you properly
Instead she arranged her pink rabbit sucker, her wand, and her suction-cup dildo and snapped a picture, lurid and gaudy against her pinstriped duvet, and sent it to him.
There was a response waiting when she stepped out of the shower.
Oh my god this is so much better than I could have imagined
“Dr King, could I grab you for a second?”
“Sure.”
He held open the door of Central 14: one hand on his phone, tablet tucked under his arm, stethoscope akimbo. “Step into my office.”
She tried to read his face as she passed by, but his eyes were firmly fixed on his phone, a frown between his brows that could have meant anything.
He closed the door, leaning his back against the glass window. Her pocket vibrated. “If anyone asks what we’re doing, I’m asking for your advice on the woman in South 20.”
“Okay? Is sh—”
“Check your phone, Mel.”
I was planning on waiting until we have the same day off to ask you this, but I don’t think I can hold out that long.
I’m dying to hold you, to kiss you, to make you come until you scream.
Would you like that? Tonight, tomorrow night, any day and any time you choose?
If you would, think about what you’d want me to do. We can try the things we’ve been talking about, or we can not. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give me
She had to close her eyes and breathe through her mouth for three counts before she could look up. He held the tablet aloft, as if he were reading notes, but his eyes were on hers.
“I’m heading out. You can take a minute, if you need it,” he said, reaching for the door handle.
“Frank? The answer’s yes.”
He pressed his eyes shut and extended his head back, exposing the line of his neck to her. Then he snapped the door open. “Thanks, Dr King,” he called out as he left.
“Anytime.”
She spent the morning planning what she was going to say, so she could type it all out in one bathroom break.
Don’t open on the floor. NSFW beyond the preview
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I don’t want to do anything too wild the first time. But would you be a little rough with me? Boss me around? You can be physical, but no slapping or hitting.
If you’re free tonight, come over after work. 82 S 12th St, first floor.
She could have waited, she knew. Told him after work. But she wanted to watch, as he checked his cell standing under the board and his head sprung up, searching until he found her, standing by the toilets and looking at him through the two glass walls of Trauma 1. She wanted to hear him tell Robby he was going to take ten. She wanted to time how long he spent in the single-stall restroom by Pedes — three minutes — and listen to him bum a cigarette off Dana and note how he closed his eyes and rested the back of his head against the brick wall on his first inhalation.
She caught sight of him in the rear view mirror as she left the parking lot. And again, as she crossed the bridge. After she parked she sat and waited, and he turned onto her street with the next change of lights. She scrambled out of the car.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” She fumbled for her keys so she wouldn’t have to look at him, and started up the path. “It’s not much, and I haven’t had time to tidy up or —“
This interminable day had lasted an eternity, and yet she was so unprepared to have him here, hanging his jacket as she locked the door.
“— anything, or … I haven’t even shaved. Should I put on something nicer? Would you like that?”
“I’m nervous too,” he said, standing aside as she shed her belongings: bag, coat, shoes, and — thinking of what might happen next — glasses.
“You don’t look it.”
He reached for her fingers and pressed them to his galloping radial artery. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked. “We don’t have to do this.”
She closed her hand around his wrist and tugged him down, up on her toes to press her lips against his. Freeing himself of her grasp, he wrapped his arms around her and clutched their chests together. Her breasts were crushed against him, and when she stepped closer, she could feel him stiffening against her hip. It seemed impossible that he couldn’t also smell her arousal.
Against her mouth, she felt him smile. Because it was impossible not to smile whenever he did, she leaned her head back and grinned at him.
“You should know,” he said, laughing, “I’m going to last about twenty seconds.”
“Oh, me too.”
“And every time you say something like that, you take off another five seconds.” He ducked his head and kissed along her jaw. “Do you still want it like you said? A little rough?”
“Yes please.” She closed her eyes as his hand cradled her chin and tilted her head to one side, running his mouth down her neck.
“You have to promise me though.” With her head now arranged, he moved his hand to her breast and caressed it over her sports bra. “If you don’t like something, you’ll tell me to stop. No pretending, okay?”
“Okay.”
With her eyes still closed, his whisper right next to her ear startled her. “I think we should close the curtains.”
“Oh!” Her eyes flew open and she almost shoved him away as she raced to the windows, then into her bedroom, pulling down her blackout blinds and switching on lamps. When she turned around, he was standing in the doorway with his shirt on the floor.
Once she got within arms’ length, he reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and over. She grasped for his waistband, but he nabbed her hands and held them. “No touching me yet.”
It wasn’t gruff or forceful or threatening. It was the same firm, patient tone he used to coach her through a procedure, which only made her wetter.
Bending his neck, he kissed along her clavicle, down along her sternum. He sank to his knees and braced his hands around her waist, his nose and lips dancing down and down her stomach. She reached for his hair, but he moved her hands back to her sides.
As his chin reached fabric, his thumbs tucked under her waistband and tugged down. She reflexively jumped as he mouthed over her underwear, his hands coming back up her thighs to pull her crotch towards him.
“You would not believe how much I want you. Do you want me, honey?” He nipped and kissed across her vulva between words, thin cotton the only reason she didn’t come on the spot.
“I do,” she whined.
“Why don’t you get rid of the rest of these clothes so I can find out?”
Mel shed her bra in an instant, peeling off her underwear and socks in not much longer. By the time she straightened, he was down to boxer briefs, barely covering his erection. She had to keep her mouth open to get enough air.
“Lie on the bed,” he instructed. “That’s it. I want you to put your hands underneath you, any way that’s comfortable. Good, like that. No touching. No touching until I’m done.” He leaned over and traced a single finger through her labia. “God, you’re more beautiful than I even dreamed of. You’re perfect Mel.”
As soon as the ‘el’ fell off his tongue, he tucked his face between her thighs, braced his mouth around her clit and sucked.
She wailed for just a handful of seconds before she came. Tucked underneath her lower back, her hands scrabbled against the duvet, space freed around them as her spine lifted clear off the bed.
“Did you like that, honey?” he asked, crawling up the bed.
“Yes, Frank, yes yes yes,” she babbled. “Oh my God, you’re so —“
“Nuh-uh.” He intercepted one of her hands as it went to squeeze his thigh, bracketed around her hip. “Imagine they’re tied back there.”
She groaned and bucked, a hint of erection brushing against her belly. Pivoting his hips, he ground it into her, just four inches north of where she needed it to be. “But you still want more?”
“Please, Frank, please. I need to feel you.” She struggled to get the words out, as he kissed her while she spoke.
“Okay. Don’t move.” He leapt off and walked into the ensuite, where she could hear him washing his hands. She had a momentary flash of him grasping her bare hips in blue nitrile gloves. It would be a miracle if she could ever make it through another shift.
Swinging back on top of her, one hand cupped her breast, his mouth descending to her nipple, while the other dived between their legs. Two long, strong fingers entered her with no hesitation, and met no resistance.
Their groans mingled as he thrust in and out. Her adductor twitched with each stroke. She cocked her leg to soothe it, which only encouraged him to lean back on his heels and move harder.
“Please,” she was whispering without conscious thought. “Please, please, baby, please.”
He swivelled his wrist and curled his fingers up, pressing into her g-spot until she thought she would burst. The words were stuck in her throat: she’d forgotten how to inhale.
“Hang on,” he murmured, and abruptly withdrew. Not just his fingers, but his entire body, walking out the bedroom door. There was a condom between his fingers when he came back in, the same ones they handed out at work. He was going to ruin her career.
“I’m on Nexplanon,” she blurted out. “You can feel i—“
“I haven’t been tested in … god, over a decade. Not that … I just want to be careful with you.”
That’s sweet, she thought, but she couldn’t voice it because he’d taken his briefs off and was rolling the condom down his penis. It was bigger than her vibrator, smaller than her dildo, and looked harder than anything she’d ever seen. She was wild to hold it in her hand.
He knelt between her legs and rammed his fingers in again, once, twice, three times before he bent his neck and lapped his tongue against her clit. Someone was squealing — presumably herself — and by the time she’d forgotten all about his cock, he pressed both her knees to her chest, rested her feet against his biceps, and entered her in one instantaneous manoeuvre.
She forgot about everything but his cock then. With her pelvis pushed up and off the bed, he jutted into her g-spot and she lost all semblance of control, coming hard around him after just four thrusts.
One of his hands braced the side of her face, making her look at him as her breath stuttered, and he didn’t last much longer after that. His face was buried in her neck and his fingers gripped her hair when he cursed insensibly and stilled.
Half-expecting him to stop her, she withdrew a hand and rubbed the back of his neck. When he lifted his face, she brushed his hair back, revelling in her restored permission to touch.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hi.”
For a moment, she enjoyed the novelty of seeing Frank fully relaxed. No twitching muscles, no nattering, no trying to accomplish seventeen things at once. Just a steady gaze and half a smile. And then she asked: “Are you hungry?”
“I think I’m giving you a false impression,” she told him, draining the linguine. “This is only ‘cause I had yesterday off. Normally I’m eating something that comes in polypropylene and takes less than ten minutes in the microwave.”
“Ten minutes is impressive to me. Normally I’m eating dinosaur nuggets and a bowl of Cheerios.” He stopped stirring the ragu and licked the spoon. “Okay, I don’t think you’re ever going to get rid of me now.”
“Just so long as you lower your expectations.”
“Does that mean you won’t come in ten seconds next time?” He stepped back to let her add the pasta to the pot of sauce, pressing his mouth above her ear.
“I wouldn’t count on it.”
“I wish I could say the same for myself, but I think I’d be over-promising.”
She served them both bowlfuls and they sat across from each other at her kitchen island.
“You do want there to be a next time, right?” he asked between mouthfuls.
“Yes,” she answered, after she swallowed. “I’d like there to be a bunch of next times.”
“Good,” he grinned. “Me too.”
Later, after they had bickered over the dishes vis-à-vis: Mel’s constant yawning, an appropriate bedtime for the first shift back on days, the likelihood of another round lasting until 9:30pm, and whether or not Frank was going to give himself an ETAP by fucking straight after dinner; and after they had negotiated precisely one episode of some ridiculous home improvement show, consumed on her couch with her head on his chest; he led her back to the bedroom and asked for her wand vibrator.
He placed it atop three pillows stacked at the edge of the bed then pushed her over them: elbows on the mattress, back arched, feet on the floor and her rear high in the air.
“There?” he asked, shifting the wand until it was wedged against her clit.
“Yes,” she moaned, at which point he cruelly switched it off.
His hands caressed her ass, kneading and spreading and running one finger down her intergluteal cleft without a hint of pressure. The crinkle of a condom wrapper left her pulsating.
He entered her slowly, so leisurely she could feel herself squeezing, trying to pull him in. “God, Mel. I wish you could see how fucking hot you look right now,” he said, breathy, once his hips were hard against hers.
His hand gripped her steady as he pulled out in one quick snap, and she braced herself to be thrust into the mattress. But he started all over again, pushing in like he had all the time in the world. Like she wasn’t going to combust any moment now.
“Frank, please,” she whined.
“No, be patient.”
By the fourth time, she was regretting ever bringing up the probability of a side cramp, and by the seventh time she lost her dignity and started begging: “Please, I’ll do anything, just go faster, please.”
She had lost count and almost hope when he leaned forward, pressing her hard against the bed with one hand, and reaching under to switch on the vibrator with the other. And then, finally — finally — he fucked her with abandon.
Even over her gasping, she could hear him muttering “fuck, fuck, fuck” when he came, but he didn’t withdraw. He pressed her even harder into the wand until she went over the edge too, twitching and shuddering all over her body.
She crawled up the bed and collapsed, closing her eyes for just a moment until her breath came back. When she opened them again, startled awake by a stroke of her hair, he was crouched beside the bed. All the lights had been switched off, save her bedside lamp.
“Do you want me to go, or to stay?” he asked.
“Stay,” she mumbled.
When he slid into bed beside her, she pressed her chest hard against his back, slinging a leg and an arm over him, and was out again in seconds.
The smell of coffee woke her before her alarm had a chance. That’s strange, she thought, and then she remembered.
Any thought of morning-after awkwardness was banished when his eyes lit up and he bounded over to kiss her in the doorway.
“I hope you don’t mind I made coffee?”
“No, I could get very used to this.”
“Does that mean I can stay over again tonight?”
She slid her hand down and brushed his crotch, feeling his penis harden at her touch. “That would be nice.”
“Mel,” he groaned, but he didn’t step away so she only rubbed harder. “I have to go home. I need to shower and change.”
“Okay. Off you go then.” She slipped her hand beneath his pants and stroked him firmly.
He finally wrenched away after several long, shuddering breaths. “I’m going to get you back for this,” he promised, his sternness somewhat diminished by the bulging in his pants.
“Looking forward to it already.”
Not long after morning rounds, she checked her phone, then scurried into a toilet stall at the first chance she got.
Don’t open on the floor
*
*
*
*
I’m not touching you tonight until I watch you come with a toy in your ass
“Frank, please,” she begged. “Not even a kiss?”
“You started it.” He unslung his backpack and moved to close her curtains. “You want to do it now, or later?”
She had never felt so wanton or filthy as she did at this moment, lying naked on her bed and pushing her vibrator into her dripping vagina. Frank sat next to her, mumbling encouragement.
“Look at you, honey. Look at that perfect cunt, you’re incredible.”
She shuddered.
“Do you not like ‘cunt?’” he asked, making the most obscene eye contact she’d ever experienced.
“Only when you say it.”
She sucked on one finger and watched his face contort in desire. Pulling herself up to her knees, she used one hand to keep the vibrator in place, and the other slowly pressed one finger into her sphincter.
“Oh, fuck.” He stood and stripped, masturbating as he sat back beside her.
“I want you,” she whined, eyes fixed on his grip around his cock.
“You have to earn me. Tell me, honey, does it feel good?”
“Not as good as you.”
As she wriggled her finger back and forth and gently pulled it out, he scooted up the bed and sat with his back flat against the headboard. She switched off the vibrator and pulled it free, drenched in her arousal, placing its tip against her anus. Then she pivoted her hips backwards until its base hit the mattress. If she looked at just the right angle, she could watch him in the mirror, breathless and unblinking, as she slowly sank down.
He almost came, she was pretty sure, when she finally had it in and switched it back on.
“Do you like this?” she asked him, panting.
“Oh Mel, oh honey. You have no idea.”
She held the base firm and rocked her legs, stretching her ass against it. Behind her, he looked to be in physical pain.
“Who’s getting revenge on who, again?”
“I can’t even remember,” he groaned. “Will you come for me, honey? Please?”
She pressed two fingers to her clit and rubbed until she was bent double, her cunt desperately clutching around something that wasn’t there. Switching the vibrator off, she gingerly eased it free and dropped it out of sight, over the side of the bed. Stretching out her arm, she grabbed for his pants and found the condoms, crawling back up the bed with her prize.
“You still want more?” She could see his carotid jumping.
“I want you.”
Touching her at last, he rolled down a condom and pulled her onto his lap, pinning her tight against him as he thrust up into her. When her head rolled back, he sucked at her throat.
While he placed an order for a pizza, she texted Becca:
Hey gorgeous!
I’m trying to schedule some plans for my days off. Which days (and nights) would you like to hang out?
P.S getting a pizza delivered - extra peppers :D
“Wow, you came prepared,” she said when he pulled sweats and a Penguins tee out of his backpack.
“I never want to wake up and put on yesterday’s scrubs ever again. Pizza ETA is fifteen minutes.”
Hi Mel!
Ewwwww, peppers are disgusting!
Tomorrow is pottery class, so I don’t want to miss that, but I also don’t want to eat fish, which is what is for dinner tomorrow night. So can you pick me up tomorrow after 4pm and before 6pm, and can I stay the night?
I want to come back before 6pm on Thursday because we are having pasta.
“Becca wants to stay tomorrow night,” she announced without looking up. “I’ll take her back before dinner on Thursday.”
“Okay, great. I’ll see you after I tuck the kids in then,” he called from the living room.
That sounds like a great plan. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at about 4:30pm xox
When she joined him on the couch, he was already navigating through her Netflix.
“Sure you still want this?”
“Yep.”
“Not too tight?”
“Nope.”
They had MacGyvered this together in ten minutes flat: her wrists bound by black tights that she had worn exactly once to a funeral last winter, tied in the first ‘wrist bondage knot tutorial’ YouTube had suggested to them, and bound around a bed leg with her belt.
He lay across her, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her gently. When she nipped at him he opened his mouth and licked into her soft palate, crushing her lips until they stung.
Shifting his weight to one side, he reached down and grabbed at her breast, squeezing and pinching and plucking at her nipple. Once she surpassed some threshold of desperation unknown to her, he leaned down and kissed it. Tilting his head back, he assessed his work: throbbing, red, and covered in his wet saliva. He blew a stream of air right onto it, until her nipple was so hard it ached like a wound. And then he did it all again.
“Please,” she whined, as he shifted to her other breast. Against her vulva she could feel his cock, hard and smooth and so close, but she couldn’t get the angle right to rub her clit against it.
After he finished with her left nipple, he shifted back over to her right and she struggled against the belt, half-screaming in frustration. He rested his chin on her sternum and grinned. “Just kidding.”
“Frank, if you don’t — oh.”
As he scooted down the bed, his erection fell down, rubbing against her clit and down through her labia. He paused, the tip just a fraction of an inch from penetration. She pulled at the tights until they cut into her wrists, trying to pull him in.
With both hands on her hips, he shoved her back up the mattress, instantly slackening all tautness in the belt. Sinking down to his chest, he spread her with his fingers and pressed his tongue against her clit. He held it there, flat and strong as her hips jumped against him. When her initial frenzy eased, he reached his arms up, grasping across her ribs, and kissed her clit deeply, sucking, licking, scraping his teeth against her until her head spun and she could feel her orgasm seeping down between them.
For a split second of sober clarity, Mel had two thoughts: this is better sex than I’ve ever had with anyone else, and he isn’t even in me yet. And also: could it have been this good with anyone else if I’d told them what I wanted?
But she didn’t care in the slightest if the answer was yes or no, because Frank, her Frank, one half of Mel-and-Frank at PTMC, had crawled back up to her face and was brushing her hair away from her forehead. “You alright? Do you want to stop?”
“I swear, Frank, if you stop now, I will hurt you.”
“Need a break? Got any spots you want me to scratch?”
“You will need stitches.”
“You can’t threaten me with a good time. C’mon.” He rolled her onto her stomach and clambered off the bed. His cock bobbed just out of her reach as he rolled down a condom. Her mouth, dry after her orgasm, filled with a rush of saliva at the scent of latex.
He pressed himself against her back, smothering her with just enough pressure. Tucking her hair back, he whispered into her ear: “I could just walk away and leave you like this. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Before she could conjure an answer, he pushed into her, his primal moan doing more for her self-esteem than any mantra ever could. He fucked her in long, deep, rolling thrusts that were inescapable as he continued to press her into the bed, one hand pinning down her bound wrists.
Once her babbling reached fever-pitch, he pushed himself up and used the new leverage to thrust deeper, harder, just more, more, more. Her back arched, concave and then convex as she came again, and before she had finished, he did too, his neck hanging limp, his hair brushing against her scapula.
“Did you pack a toothbrush?” she asked as he untied her hands.
“Toothbrush and a phone charger. Does that get you going?”
“I think you’re joking, but it actually kind of does.”
Mel cleaned and tidied her apartment in the early afternoon, shivering as blistering cold air swept through her open door and windows. Although immune to it herself, she was sure it smelled of sex, and she was doubly sure that, if it did, Becca would be able to tell.
Her phone pinged:
The clinic on Jane St was able to do a quick turnaround for an extra $60
Underneath was a screenshot of an email, declaring Francis Langdon free of Chlamydia, Gonorrhea, Hepatitis B and C, Herpes Simplex 1 and 2, HIV, and Syphilis.
If I get tested too, would you want to have sex without condoms?
She wrapped herself in her jacket and sat on the couch, waiting for him.
I mean, that’s not the reason I got tested
I just want you to have some peace of mind
FW:I don’t like watching blowjobs, but giving them is very sexy
Also, I want to test this, pretty please
But if you’re sure you’re comfortable, then I’m happy to stop using condoms
Already sliding on her shoes and patting for her keys, she typed:
I’m sure. And I’m sure if we keep using the ones from work, I’m going to start having a Pavlovian response during shift
His final response before she drove to Jane Street was:
I kind of want to test that too
Are you still up?
Just, he texted. I miss you
I miss you too
She crawled into bed and stared at the screen, watching the three dots.
I had a thought - do you want to come to mine tomorrow night?
It’s not as nice as yours
But I’d like to cook you dinner
She responded:
By dinner, do you mean dino nuggets?
Although, actually, the answer is yes either way
He took four minutes to text back.
Sorry, fell asleep for a minute
I can do slightly better than dino nuggets
But keep those expectations low - this place is very divorced dad chic
Go to sleep, baby, she answered. Send me your address in the morning xx
“Hi.”
“Hi.” She couldn’t help but beam.
“Do you want a tour?”
“Yes, but how would you feel about …” she opened her phone and showed him a gif, “… this first?”
He cocked his head to one side. “That sounds excellent.”
Something about it wasn’t quite right. It was just how she’d pictured it: her head lolling backwards off the bed while he thrust into her mouth. But it wasn’t how she wanted it to feel. She didn’t have enough control of her tongue, the pace, the angle to make it go like she wanted it to go. And, she didn’t think she was overly cocky in believing she could make this feel better for him too.
She lifted an arm and tapped his thigh, sending him jumping back like a startled kitten.
“Too much?” he asked, helping to pull her up.
“I just don’t think I’m into it, sorry.”
“Oh, thank god. It’s not my thing either.”
She frowned at him. “You should’ve stopped!”
“I just like making you happy,” he shrugged.
“No, Frank, that’s not — stop kissing me, I’m trying to be serious! I don’t want to do things you don’t want to do.”
“Alright, mea culpa,” he held his hands up in surrender. “You’re right. Next time I’ll stop.”
“Good.”
They stared at each other for a moment while Mel tried to figure out if the mood was entirely gone. “Come lie down,” she finally said.
He lay on one side with his arms open, awaiting her. But instead she rolled him to his back and straddled his knees.
“Mel, you don’t ne—“
She cut him off with a hard lick up the underside of his cock, enveloping the head in her mouth as she reached the tip and using her lips and tongue to squeeze around it as she began to bob up and down.
He was making all the right noises, but still she tilted her head back, not stopping, to make sure he wasn’t just humoring her. When their eyes met, he started cursing and his hips spasmed up towards her. She felt like she could conquer the world.
Keeping her eyes up until the last second, she pushed her head down until her pharyngeal reflex was triggered. She held it there for a moment, then pushed down more.
“Oh my god, Mel, honey, what the fuck,” he kept repeating as she reached the limit of her comfort, about an inch short of taking him completely. Letting her mouth flood, she pulled back up, drenching his penis in saliva. Now she could really go to town, taking him in her fist and jerking him, licking him, sucking him, all of them at once as he mumbled words with only a vague resemblance to “Mel” and “fuck.”
This, this, is what had been missing before. It wasn’t just any mouth being used, it was her mouth, her tongue, her decisions of when to slow down and when to lick and when to tease her way downwards, taking him in inch by inch. It was her name on his lips, and she was confident if a supermodel walked naked into his bedroom right now, he still wouldn’t look away from her.
“Honey, I’m gonna … I’m almo—“
“Do you want to come in my mouth? Or inside me?”
“You, oh, please, please …”
She gave his cock one last kiss and hauled herself up, his upper body rising up to sit, clutching at her.
“I told you,” she said as she positioned his penis underneath her. “I told you this would turn me on.”
“Fuck, Mel, you’re dripping.”
She sank onto him just a handful of times before he threw his chin upwards and came. For the first time, she could feel his ejaculation hot inside her. She leaned forward and rested her forehead on his shoulder until his breathing steadied.
“I think coming to my place was a mistake.”
“Why’s that?”
With one hand, he absently stroked her head. “What I’d really like to do right now is put one of your toys on your clit until you come, while I’m still inside you.”
“Oh, I brought one.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it’s in my bag. Hang on, I think if you shift over a bit I can just reach—“
He curled his fingers into her hair and dragged her back for a fierce kiss. “I think you might be the perfect woman.”
“I told you the other night, being prepared is sexy.”
“Hallelujah, I see the light.”
A thumb passed across her cheekbone. It merged so closely with her dream it was hard to tell which part was real.
“Mel? Come on, sleepyhead. Let’s go to bed.” That brought her back properly: she was still where she’d fallen asleep, head on Frank’s thigh and legs stretched out along his couch.
“What time is it?” she mumbled, rising. Scattered around him was the detritus of an attempt to stay up late before night shift: laptop, phone, AirPods, TV remote, a bowl that had once contained trail mix, the medical journal he’d been reading aloud as she’d drifted off to sleep.
“2:30. Too early, but I’m wiped. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”
“Did I talk in my sleep?”
He didn’t miss her blush, judging by the smirk spreading across his face. “All I could make out was ‘please.’”
“Oh.” She spun around, burying her face into his shoulder and resting her legs across his lap, feeling the slickness between her thighs as she moved. “Before we … back when we were just texting, I had this fantasy …”
“Don’t you dare stop talking.”
“Where you would sit on my legs pin me down and hold a vibrator against me until I come, like, three times in a row,” she blurted out. “Even while I beg you to stop.”
He banged the back of his head against the wall. Repeatedly. “Fucking hell, you … alright.” He stood, scooping her up in a bridal carry. “I think I’m too tired for another round, but I can handle that.”
The next day she had a flash of insight into how impossible he must have been to train as a fresh intern.
It’s 8am, her note had read, I’m heading home so I don’t wake you. I’ll be home this afternoon - call me if you want to catch up? xx
And his text, just as she was starting to think about lunch said:
Leaving now, be there in 10 xo
“What happened to calling me?” she asked when she opened the door.
He shrugged. “Just saving time.”
“Well, come in. Are you hungry?
“I had an idea,” he said, completely ignoring her question. She had seen him like this before, this dog-with-a-bone mood. At work it typically ended with him either being scolded or doing something brilliant. “One of my fantasies about you, after you told me about your toys. Here’s the pitch: …”
It was awkward with her hands tied behind her back, but he carefully bent her over the armrest of the couch. “Is that alright? It’s not rubbing your clit?”
Her only amendment to the pitch was a kybosh on touching her clitoris: it was still aching from the night before. “I’m good.”
“And you’ll tell me if you’re not okay?”
“Promise.”
His finger plunged in, rubbing cool lubricant (“I come prepared,” he’d said with a winner’s smile) around her entrance. And, in a flash, his hand was replaced by his cock, hard and warm and thrust all the way in at once.
“Oh, fuck!” she yelled.
He withdrew immediately, her tied hands grasping uselessly for him. “Was that a good ‘fuck’, or a bad ‘fuck?’”
“Good! Good! Come back, ba—“ she lost the ability to form words as he filled her again. And again, and again.
From the corner of her eye she could just make out him taking his hands off her hips and spreading lube all over her pink vibrator. When she’d returned home this morning, she hadn’t thought it was possible for her to get aroused today, she was so spent. And now she was gushing, babbling, desperate yet again for everything he could do to her.
He stilled and pressed one finger to her anus, which she flexed against him, trying to draw him in.
“I’m good, baby, I’m good,” she begged. “Keep going.”
She couldn’t tell if he was being careful or just teasing when he left it in for a few seconds longer, gently stretching around the circumference. And then, all at once, he poured more lubricant over her ass, pushed in a second finger, and started thrusting again.
“Fuck, fucking fuck,” she moaned. She had never felt so full, so tight, so utterly out of control.
“Mel, you never swear,” he panted.
“Well, I’ve never done this either. No, don’t stop, co—“
He pulled out of her, both cock and fingers, and now she could feel the rubbery tip of her vibrator against her ass. It went in almost embarrassingly easily, swimming in lube.
“Fuck,” he swore.
“Is that a good ‘fuck’ or — oh.”
Rocking the vibrator back and forth, he asked: “Is that okay, honey? Does it feel good?”
“It feels — oh — really good. Harder, baby, go harder.”
He pulled it further back on each plunge, stretching her wider and wider. “God, Mel, you’re incredible. You’re so fucking … god. Do you know what you do to me?” And then he switched the vibrator on. And then she was beyond cogency.
“Frank, Frank, I’m going to come, baby,” she moaned not long after that.
He pulled it all the way out and thrust his cock back into her cunt, so deep and sudden it was right on the edge of pain. She wailed, and as he grabbed her bound wrists and pulled her shoulders off the couch, she didn’t stop screaming until they were both spent.
She was back on day shift tomorrow, so it was no big effort to be up and about by 7am.
Also, had there ever been one singular time when he didn’t seem happy to see her? Arriving at his door for sex, sure, but also mid emergency c-section, at rounds, standing under the board, interrupting his charting. Even amidst the horror of the MCI.
Also, she’d noticed he had about two tablespoons of milk and not much else left in his fridge.
She kept telling herself these things to avoid getting into a spiral about whether this was a weird thing to do. She’d never been a particularly clingy girlfriend, but she’d also never felt this way about a … wait. Was he her boyfriend?
His car pulled up before she could get stuck in that particular trap.
“Hi,” she said, getting up from his stoop. “I, um … I noticed you were out of milk, so — I mean, for your Cheerios — so, I thought, I’d bring food?”
He was still standing by his car door, staring at her over the roof. “I’m dreaming this. I fell asleep in the car. Or it’s a hallucination. Right?”
“Do hallucinations bring bagels?” She held the bag up. “I don’t have to stay, I just wanted to bring you breakfast.”
That, apparently, was confirmation enough. He sprinted round the car to the bottom of the steps and scooped her up around her thighs, ignoring her squeal and climbing the steps. “Hold on, honey, hold on to me. I’ve gotta …”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist as he shifted their balance, trying to get enough leverage to unlock his door. They both had a severe case of the giggles. “Frank, you can just put me down, I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, I — there we go — no, I’m seducing you, do you hear?”
“Don’t you think we’ve gone a bit beyond that?”
“Never.” He kicked the door shut behind them and sat her down on his kitchen counter, standing on his toes to crush his mouth to hers.
It wasn’t until she wanted to touch more of him that Mel realised she was still clutching the bagels. She dropped them … somewhere — she didn’t really care — and shoved her hand up his shirt, desperate for more of his skin.
She only got it for a few seconds before he started tugging at her leggings and underpants, making her rock side to side to get them past her glutes. He had to stop kissing her to pull them past her knees, only to be immediately foiled by the fact she was still wearing shoes. “Christ, Mel, are these triple knotted? I need trauma shears.”
“Just tug them. No, fro— here, let me.”
His head bounced up as she leaned down. Chin met skull.
“Ow, honey, are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“How’s this seduction going, do you think?”
She gripped his shirt and pulled it off.
“Very well, actually.”
“You’re a generous grader.”
Her jacket turned half inside-out as he struggled to peel it off.
“Or you’re a good student.”
He finally ripped it off her wrists, and hauled her sweater over her head.
“I’m a terrible student.”
She reached for the drawstring of his scrub pants, pulled the knot loose and shoved them and his underwear downwards, his legs wriggling to help them on their way.
“Frank, you graduated med school.”
He hauled her hips forward until just her tailbone rested on the counter.
“But not engineering, apparently,” he said, frowning down at where his cock was an inch lower than her vagina. “Hang on, climb aboard.”
He hoisted her up again, toeing off his shoes and awkwardly kicking free of the pooled pants around his ankles. “This is a great way to get a broken penis, you know,” she said as he pressed her back hard up against the closest wall.
She gripped his shoulders for dear life as he wiggled her downward and finally pushed in, the tingling relief extending up through her belly and behind her ribs. “That’s confirmation bias. The unbroken penises don’t come in for treatment.”
“You can’t infer a false hypothesis from just a true positive count.”
“God, I love it when you talk dirty,” he grinned, and started thrusting up into her. Her mouth dropped open before she could ask how much of that was a joke.
With her arms around his neck she couldn’t touch him like she wanted to, palms across his chest, but she was able to brace her elbows and wrap her hands in his hair. She pulled him in close, noses bumping and kisses interrupted by their open-mouthed groans.
Panic jolted through her as her shoulders slipped against the wall. She dug them in hard. “Frank, I’m going to fall.”
He hoisted her up his waist again. “Just … hold on.”
“We’re going to br— oh! I know!” She tapped his neck frantically. “Take me over to the pull-up bar.”
She clung to him as he stepped away and pushed her up against his bedroom door frame. From here, she could reach up to the bar, running perpendicularly above her head, and lighten the load on him and the wall.
“You’re a genius, honey. Fuck.” His hips were snapping wildly now, and he risked removing a hand from one of her thighs — she clutched the bar harder, triceps already aching — to thumb at her clit. He ducked in to suck between her clavicles until she came, sweaty and shaking and gasping.
When he lowered her feet back to the floor, his cum was trickling down her thigh. “Divorced dad chic saves the day, huh?”
“Don’t make me laugh, my abs are killing me.”
“Sorry.” He wrapped his arms around her and bent his face down to rest atop her head. “Did you say something about bagels?”
“Hey! How are you? How was the party?”
“Two hours of five year olds screaming in an enclosed space? Yeah, it was bliss.”
“You heading to work? You sound like you’re in the car.”
“I was actually hoping I could come over? Just for a minute?”
She checked the time. “Frank, you’re going to be cutting it pretty fine.”
“That doesn’t sound like a no. I’ll be there in ten.”
Well, at least he called first this time.
“Is something wrong?” she asked as soon as she opened the door.
“What? No, I just wanted to do this …” He tilted her chin up and kissed her, soft and tender. “… and also give you this.” In his palm was a single key. “I mean, don’t feel like it’s an obligation, but if you ever want to bring bagels around again, you won’t have to sit on the stoop.”
“That’s—“
“In fact, let yourself in whenever you want. I quite like the idea of walking in and finding you already there.”
“Wait, hold on a second …” She ran to her sock drawer and flew back with her spare key. “Here. I like that idea too. I hope that’s … this is okay, right? I’ve never really … I haven’t done this before — I mean, I’ve had a b— relationship before, just never — I was always sharing with Becca, so I never gave anyone a key … not that Becca means I couldn’t, just—“
“Are you anxious, or just excited?” he interrupted, little creases forming between his brows.
“Both? I think?”
“I get that. But you’re doing perfectly, alright? This is … this is great, Mel.” He held her neck and rubbed it with his thumb. “Do you want me to stay for a little bit?”
“No no, I’m fine. Or, I will be fine. You have to go, you’ll be late.”
He kissed her once more until she planted her hands across his chest and shoved. “I know, I know. I’ll see you at shift change?” When she nodded, he stopped walking backwards and jogged to his car, calling “Love you!” over his shoulder.
“Sorry, I meant to text you, but it’s been a madhouse.”
“That’s fine.” She stood next to him under the board, extremely aware of the inch of air between their arms. “Anything interesting?”
“Nah, just the usual. I wanted to say … the last thing I said to you? I hope it didn’t make you more anxious.”
Perlah walked out of South 7 and crossed to the hub, just a few yards away.
She stretched in what she hoped was in an inconspicuous manner, checking who else was within listening distance. “Nope. All good. And, right back at you. By the way.”
“Cool. Cool cool. You’re on days for a bit, right? Guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Oh, you’re off nights? Then yeah, see you tomorrow.”
When she parked that evening, his car was on the street, and when she opened her door, his shoes were by the utility closet, and when she walked into her living room, he was sleeping on her couch with Netflix prompting him to confirm he was still watching. She was so thrilled it was hard to keep it all inside.
“Frank? Baby?” She’d never seen him wake before, and wondered if it was always like this, a panicked full-body jump out of sleep. “Can I interest you in a microwaved lasagna?”
“Only if it comes in something unrecyclable and tastes like string cheese,” he yawned. “Sorry, I meant to organize food.”
He came and stood behind her as she programmed the microwave, wrapping his arms across her sternum. “This didn’t make you uncomfortable, did it? I just thought: maybe some positive reinforcement on the whole key thing?”
“No, this is pretty much the opposite of uncomfortable. I’m really happy.”
One of his hands lowered to her breast and fidgeted with her nipple. “Anything I can do tonight to make you even happier?”
“Can we do that thing over the edge of the couch again? That was very good.”
“Mmmmm.” He leaned down to lick behind her ear, holding her firmly as she tried to wriggle away. “Any additional requests this time?”
She had that image flash again. “Do you happen to have any surgical gloves on you?”
The last shift they had worked together she had been so focused on not paying undue attention to him that she’d essentially ignored him unless absolutely necessary. That wasn’t a sustainable approach, but then again, this wasn’t either.
Despite a deficit of spare gloves the night before, every time either of them pulled on a pair today, their eyes would dart to each other. Whenever they moved around a gurney, she had to stop herself from leaning into him, and once — with no one else but the patient present, mercifully — he put his hand on her waist and left it there while he read the tablet over her shoulder. In the late afternoon she nabbed him to get a second set of eyes on a case, but by the time she opened the door to North 5, the patient was gone: discharged themselves AMA, she learned after the fact. He had raised his eyebrows and used his head to gesture at the empty bed. “Quickie?” he’d mouthed.
He comforted her as they walked to the parking lot after shift, lagging behind and out of earshot of everyone else: “We’ll get better at it. There will come a day when you can hand out condoms without me almost dragging you into the handicap toilet.”
“Well now I’m going to be thinking about that too.”
They waved goodbye to McKay as she drove past, and then they were the last two day-shifters left.
“How would you feel about sex in public?” he asked, resting his forearms on the roof of his car. “That was one of my fantasies about you. Not the handicapped toilet, per se, or North 5, but … here? The empty parking lot? In the car?”
She didn’t even have to think about it, her body reacted immediately in fight or flight. “That makes me really anxious. Like, freak out anxious. I’m sorry.”
“Hey, whoa.” He held his hands up in placation. “Totally okay. It’s no big deal.”
“But it’s one of your fantasies.” She could feel her jaw twitching.
“It isn’t if you’re not into it. Look, Mel …” he approached but didn’t reach out and touch her, didn’t stop her from rubbing at her wrists. “Another one of my fantasies is sitting on the couch watching cooking shows with you. Preferably with a pint of ice cream.”
“Cooking?”
“Open to negotiation. My point is, I just want to hang out with you. And I get you like making me happy, but I like making you happy too.”
“I like cooking shows.”
He grinned at her, and her nervous system relaxed again. “See? It’s meant to be. Wanna go to your place and do that?”
“Wait wait wait! I had an idea on the way home, leave your shoes on.” He froze inside her door, balancing on one foot. “Can we try something? I think you’ll like it.”
“What do you want me to do?”
She arranged them both just so: shoes on, jackets off, hospital IDs clipped to their shirts and stethoscopes draped around their necks.
“Okay, just … stay there a second.”
Opening her utility closet, she switched on the light and shoved everything on the clothes rod to the far end. Then she stuck her head out the door. “Dr Langdon, cou—“
“Fuuucking hell, that ‘Dr Langdon’ thing should not be so hot.”
“Frank, focus!”
“Right, you’re right. Hang on, I need a lead up …” He disappeared into the kitchen and by the time he rounded the corner again, he had his cocksure swagger back, hands gripping his stethoscope.
“Dr Langdon, could you help me in North 5?”
“Sure, what’ve you got?”
She stepped back to let him squeeze in, then shut the door, hit the light switch, and pulled his ear down to her mouth. “You have to be quiet, baby. Anyone could hear us.”
He had always been generous with his feedback for her — all the way back to her very first day, she remembered — and this was no exception, his erection stiffening against her immediately. She pulled at his drawstring. “We can’t be too long.”
She sank to her knees and dived on him like they really did only have a few minutes, pulling his penis into her mouth until her nose brushed his pubic bone, tonguing at it frantically as she withdrew. It was a good thing she hadn’t wanted to do this in public, as he seemed completely incapable of keeping his mouth shut, groaning so deeply she could feel it vibrating through her hand on his hip.
Knowing full well what she was doing, she hissed: “Be quiet, Dr Langdon,” and was rewarded by the sound of his breath catching in his throat.
She moved her mouth hard up against her hand, stroking and sucking him in tandem while her tongue licked against the head of his cock. Her braid slapped against her back as she reached a resonant frequency, and he reached down to twirl it in his fist, which made her moan around him, which made him moan, and it was all downhill from there.
“Honey, I’m really clo—“
“Come in my mouth?” she asked. Well, demanded, really, swooping back on him so she wouldn’t miss a drop.
“We could do the same thing in the bathroom,” he said, almost jumping around her kitchen, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. “Pretend it’s a toilet stall at work. You can lean against the sink and I’ll suck on your clit. Would you be into that?”
“Um, yes. How would you feel about wearing safety glasses? Like you just came from surgery?”
“Safety glasses? Really? They get you going?”
“Your hair does this thing against the edge of them,” she mimed his floppy strands, “I love that.”
He slid two grilled cheeses onto plates. “Speaking of hair: you liked it when I held your braid, right? What about hair-pulling, yes or no?”
She nodded enthusiastically, her mouth already full of bread.
“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, pulling up a stool.
“Oh, me too. But you first.”
“I was thinking … I should probably tell Robby. When you’re ready. If that’s alright. Just with me still being on probation and everythi—“
“Yeah, of course. Do you want to do it together?”
It wasn’t until he laughed that she twigged to how nervous he’d been. “Sure. Tomorrow? What’s your thing?”
“I just wanted to warn you that my period’s due tomorrow. I —“
“Commiserations.”
“— don’t know how you feel about period sex —“
“Very pro.”
“— but I don’t really like it for the first few days, so —“
“Eating you out it is then.”
“— since it’ll be messy either way, I was wondering how you’d feel about trying anal?”
He leaned forward and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That sounds great.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m trying not to fuck you into the wall.”
“We can do that too?”
“Eat your dinner, Mel. Then we need to make some plans. And maybe a list.”