Illicit Indulgence: An Erotica Collection

MY GYNECOLOGIST [II]

I drove home in a daze. My thighs were sticky from the c*m that trailed down. Every bump in the road sent a slight shock to my core, reminding me of his mouth, his fingers, the way he’d growled ‘Use my face’ like a command I was f*****g born to obey.

My ruined panties were rumpled and tossed into my purse, so I was squirmy. I dryhumped the carseat, chasing another release, but I couldn't get any.

“f*****g hell.” I muttered frustrated as I drove back.

Guilt washed over me like a bucket of cold water.

“What the f**k have I done?” Vincent’s stepbrother. My ‘brother-in-law,’ just ate me out on an examination table like I was dessert. Funny thing is, that I wanted more.

I pressed my forehead to the steering wheel at a stop sign and whispered, “What the f**k is wrong with me?”

But the shame didn’t erase the ache. If anything, I could feel my p***y pulsate more.

——

The house smelled like burnt garlic when I walked in. Vincent was sprawled on the couch, game controller in hand, while his mother, Carmella, stood over the stove in a failed attempt at chicken cacciatore.

“The woman who can’t keep anything… growing is finally back.”

Vincent snorted. “Mom, come on.”

“No, let her hear it. Twenty-seven and not a single grandchild in sight. Maybe if you spent less time shopping and more time actually trying….”

“I was at the gynecologist,” I snapped, voice low and shaking. “Checking exactly that.”

Carmela finally looked at me, her lips pursed. “And? Another clean bill of health, I suppose? No fibroid, the usual, you're fine?” she taunted.

Vincent muted the TV. “Babe, you okay? You look… flushed.”

I stared at him. Like really looked. At the man who hadn’t touched me in months. Who finished in under five minutes, that's when he bothered at all, then rolled over and scrolled his phone.

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired. Went to doctor Emerson.”

Carmela muttered something about “ useless doctor and useless wife” and left the kitchen. Vincent shrugged, “I think you should try a new a gynecologist.” He said, and unmuted the game.

I lasted ten more minutes.

Then I grabbed my keys, my phone, and walked out without another word.

The car was still warm when I went back inside. I didn’t start the engine. Instead I opened my contacts, scrolled to Darren Emerson, and dialed before I could talk myself out of it.

He answered on the second ring.

“Eudora.” Just my name came out low, surprised, and

rough.

“Hi.” I squeaked. Just great.

“I… I shouldn’t be calling.”

There was a pregnant pause. I heard him shift. Fabric rustling, maybe a door closing.

“But you are.”

“I just left home. They—Vincent and his mother—they—” I laughed, bitter.

“Doesn’t matter. I can’t stop thinking about what you did to me today.”

Another pause, heavier this time.

“Tell me.”

My thighs clenched at the quiet command in his voice. “I can still feel your tongue. Your fingers. The way you looked at me when you said my name. I came so hard my vision blurred. Darren. And now I’m sitting in my car dripping again because I can’t f*****g forget it.”

He exhaled sharply. “Jesus, Eudora.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“Are you hard?”

A low growl escaped his throat. “Been hard since you left my office. Couldn’t even see my next patient properly. Had to jerk off in the bathroom like a goddamn teenager thinking about how f*****g good you tasted.”

I whimpered, slipping my hand under my skirt. No panties. Just slick swollen labia.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered softly. “Tell me how wet you are.”

“Soaked,” I breathed, circling my c**t with two fingers. “It’s running down my thighs. I’m making a mess on the seat.”

“Good girl. Spread wider. Imagine it’s my mouth again.”

I did. Head tilted back, legs wide open, fingers sliding through the mess.

“Darren—I need—”

“I know what you need, doll.” His voice dropped to an octave lower. “I’m stroking myself right now. Slow. Thinking about thrusting into that tight, dripping cunt while you’re still shaking from the first orgasm. You’d take all of me, wouldn’t you? Every thick inch.”

“Oh Yes. f**k. Yes.”

“Pinch your c**t for me. Hard.”

I gasped, obeying. The sharp sting made my hips jerk.

“Good girl. That’s it. Now f**k yourself with two fingers. Deep. Pretend they’re mine.”

I pushed in, moaning loud enough that anyone walking past the car would hear. I didn’t care.

“Three,” he growled. “Stretch yourself like I did. I want to hear how wet you are.”

I added the third. The stretch hurt so good. Wet, obscene sounds filled the car.

“Darren—I’m close already—”

“Not yet.” His breathing was ragged now, strokes audible through the phone. “Edge yourself. Slow down. I want you crying for it.”

I whimpered, obeying again, fingers curling lazily against that spot that made my toes curl.

“Please—”

“Beg properly, Eudora.”

“Please, Darren, please let me c*m. I need it. I need you inside me. I’ll come to your office tomorrow. I’ll book the appointment. Just f**k—please—”

A dark buzz from his voice had me spasming.

“Tomorrow. 10 a.m. Last slot before lunch.”

My inner walls shook at that.

“Now come for me, doll. Loud. Let the whole street know who owns that p***y right now.”

I shattered. My back arching, thighs shaking, a broken cry tearing out of me as I clenched around my fingers. Wave after wave. His name fell out of my lips repeatedly like an enchantment.

He followed seconds later. A low groan, curses, the wet sound of him spilling over his fist.

We breathed together for long seconds.

“10 a.m.,” he repeated, voice wrecked. “Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.”

I hung up, with my chest heaving, fingers glistening, but then I put them in my mouth, tasting myself.