Still, his cock was softening, which was kind of exciting in its own way. This man, this desirous, aloof man who had no reason to even look at me twice, was doing everything in his power to please me. I could not stop him and he refused to accept anything else from me. The idea of it, the heady, drunken feeling it gave me, flung me over the edge.
I could still feel him inside me, pushing, his cock returning to normal, but it was a more subtle feeling now. Not that it mattered, though, because I was in the full throes of climax once again. I pulled at him and he didn’t move away this time, merely kept himself inside me. The wall of my pussy squeezed and hugged against his cock while he embraced me. I rode through my pleasure, eyes closed, languishing in the delightful sensation of it.
As I was coming down, indulging in the afterglow, Asher’s cock still tucked neatly inside me, someone knocked on the door.
“Asher?” a woman asked. “Are you in there?”
Beatrice. His wife.
“Shit,” he said. Pulling away from me, he bent down and wrenched his pants up. His fingers, seemingly ungainly and thick all of a sudden, barely managed to button his pants and buckle his belt before Beatrice knocked again.
“Hello? I’m coming in.”
Beatrice tried to turn the handle, but the door was locked. I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the doctor’s office doors; they locked automatically whenever anyone closed them fully, to prevent inopportune entrances during potentially awkward examinations. Asher and I might have benefited from this in a less legitimate way, but it worked out nonetheless.
I hopped up and grabbed a handful of paper towels from above a hand washing sink and rubbed them against the fabric of my panties trying to scrub away Asher’s seed.
“Sorry, Beatrice,” Asher said. “These doors lock on their own. Jessika and I were just discussing the procedure. Hold on, let me figure this door out.”
“It’s just a lock,” she said. “How hard can it be? Let me in.”
He looked at me, his expression full of panic. I shrugged and flailed my hands to the side, a sort of “I don’t know!” gesture. Somewhat satisfied with my progress in cleaning up our mess, I threw the paper towels into a trash basket, fixed my panties and skirt, and jumped back onto the cushioned table.#p#分页标题#e#
“The locks can be tricky sometimes,” I said, overly loud and nervous. I said it for Asher’s benefit, but as soon as I did I felt like it sounded like something a bad actor might say.
Asher toyed with the door handle and the lock. Confused, he looked at me and whispered, “I really don’t know how to open this. Help?”
Oh God, oh God, this was getting worse by the minute. I rushed over to the door and stared at the handle. Asher pulled on it and poked something. The door handle had a switch and a button, but neither of them looked ready to do anything but stay in place.
“Is everything alright?” our doctor asked from far away down the hall.
“The door is stuck,” Beatrice said. “What kind of shoddy facility is this?”
If the doctor was annoyed, she didn’t sound it. “It’s a security measure,” she said.
“Do you think my husband is going to steal from you? He makes more in a day than everyone in this office combined makes in a year.”
The doctor ignored her. “If you’ll allow me, I can unlock the door with this key. It’s not that we don’t trust anyone, but it’s the type of door we have. I told your husband and Jessika to page me through the in-room intercom system when they were ready. There’s no need to worry, Mrs. Landseer.”
“Hurry,” Beatrice said. “Right now.”
The doctor put the key into the keyhole and the button on our side of the door popped out. A twist of the handle later and the door opened. A very angry looking Beatrice and a slightly irritated looking doctor stood on the other side.
“Well,” Beatrice said, stomping inside. “That’s a first. No one has ever mistaken me for a thief before. I’m quite surprised to say the least.”
I wanted to say something, primarily to correct her and mention that no one had mistaken her for a thief, but I suppressed my urge. This was probably a good time to let Beatrice think whatever she wanted, because it saved Asher and I the need to explain anything. Because, really, I didn’t even know how to begin to explain any of it.
Beatrice sniffed at the air, wrinkling her nose. The smell of sex was extremely obvious to me, and I knew at that moment that she’d figure it out. Everything, all at once, no more hiding, and…
“I despise the smell of hospitals,” she said. “Even here. Ugh. It has a distinct stale smell. Far too crisp and pervasive, like someone’s gone through the entire room with four different kinds of disinfectant spray.”