Doctor's Orders

He brushed my hair with his fingers, gazing into my eyes. "You need that, too. There's still a lot for you to explore. To learn. But later, for that."

He turned to face me and guided me down onto my back. He laid down on me and whispered in my ear. One of his hands played in my hair while the other teased and touched me. He let me explore him, touching and petting, pressing his body to mine. He talked of all the things he'd do to me if I belonged to him. He told me what he'd expect, what he thought I'd enjoy, what he'd teach me that he enjoyed. But every sentence, every idea ended with "if you were mine."

We both knew I wasn't. We both knew that when this night was over, when he had to leave, that I'd never see him again. At some point his cock slipped inside me and we were making love while he was making all these declarations. Then we were past speaking. We moved around each other and I wound up in my usual spot, on my knees face on the sofa seat with him taking his pleasure behind me. He leaned down and whispered more in my ear, not promises or declarations, but an utterly filthy running commentary on what he was doing to me and why I was enjoying it. He commanded me to pleasure myself again, and I didn't even notice when he started coating my asshole with lube and sliding his fingers in.

I orgasmed around him in my pussy. He pulled out and entered my ass. He restarted his commentary about why that was better, and what it proved about me that I was willing to let him do this to me. All I could to is whisper encouragement back to him, and move with him.

By the time he was nearing his climax, my head was spinning. He shoved into me hard; I felt his balls slap the back of my legs. But instead of making the guttural grunt I was used to, he breathed out slowly.

He held onto my hips and pulled me off the couch, he settled me so that my back was pressed to his chest, and my legs were straddling his. He spread his knees slightly, which forced mine open farther. My weight pushed his cock even deeper into my ass and I shuddered. He leaned back a little and I felt his chin digging into my shoulder, like he was looking over it, down my body.

"Top, or bottom?" he asked.

"Bottom," I replied, without thinking or having any idea what he meant.

He snaked his arms around me, gripping under my breasts with one. He used the other to position my hands at my crotch.

"Ok, you work your pussy, and I work your tits. You're going to make me cum without me having to move. You're doing all the work for this one."

"Yes, sir," I said, smiling.

I flicked and fondled my clit, and fingered myself. I started sliding up and down on his cock, rocking my hips back and forth, fucking myself. He leaned back against the side of the desk, propping us both up and using his hands on my tits. He squeezed and tweaked my nipples, he nibbled my neck, he pressed me back into him. I kept moving, up and down, back and forth a little, even side to side some. But mostly I fingered myself.

Occasionally he whispered instructions, to go faster or slow down, to grind down hard. I bounced and rocked and my fingers flew. My breathing was coming faster and shallower. He put his hand over my mouth.

"I'm gonna help you. Let go a little," he said. "Don't worry about keeping as quiet right now."

It was such a departure from everything we'd done, that it threw me off a little. But I picked up the pace. His hand didn't clamp down, he kept his palm away from my nose. I could breathe as hard as I needed and it was just muffled some. I redoubled my efforts, squeezing my asscheeks together and pressing down as hard as I could. I felt him starting to buck into me. His grip around my face tightened. His grip on my breast clamped down a lot. He pulled me down onto him hard and then I heard that telltale grunt. I felt his hips twitching, jerking slightly.

Then he let out a long sigh and moved his hand away from my mouth. I turned my face to him and he kissed me hard. His arms wrapped around me and I reached back and put my hand on the back of his head. Then I covered his arms with mine and relaxed into him. We didn't move until he was completely soft and sliding out of me.

Then he squeezed me again and said we had to get up. I stood on shaky legs, immediately turning toward him and pulling him in for another kiss. I was greedy. I didn't want to let him go. I didn't want this to end. I was so scared that I'd be left with nothing, no way to continue what he'd started.

He let me kiss him for a while, then gently peeled me off of him.

"Go wash up, then come get dressed while I do the same."

I went into the bathroom, using the sink to clean what I could. He went in when I came out, and I put my clothes back on. I didn't know what to do. I even thought about leaving, sneaking out while he was washing up. But I thought that would ruin it. Thought it would be the cowardly thing to do.

I was standing in the space between his desk and the door when he came out. He dressed quickly and then gestured to the couch.

I sat and he pulled open a desk drawer. He handed me a bag. When I looked inside, I laughed. It was another six pack of white cotton panties.

"You shouldn't have," I said. "I didn't get you anything."

He grinned, and pushed his thumb between my jaws. "You gave me lots."

I closed my lips around his digit and sucked hard.

He laughed. "One more thing," he said.

He stood and went back to his desk. He came back with what looked like an oversized business card. He handed it to me.

It was plain white, heavy card stock. There was a name and phone number written on one side. "Ms. Liza Giles-Kerr"; the phone number was local.

I looked at him. "Who is this?"

"She's a Domme." I raised my eyebrows, and he held up a hand. "Not for you. She's also a kind of matchmaker. I called some people I know, asking for someone to hook you up with down here. Turns out she a friend of a friend. Call her. I've told her a little bit about you. She agreed to help you find someone, and help you vet them, make sure he's a good fit."

He paused, looked me directly in the eye. "I'm serious. Call her."

He didn't say it, but I believed he'd know if I didn't. I nodded. He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes, sir. I will call her."

He leaned in and wrapped his hands around the back of my head. He kissed me, softly at first, but then more insistent, deeper, pulling me to him. I relaxed, eased into him, let him move me as he wanted. Then he broke the kiss abruptly, leaving me gasping. He stood just as abruptly and stepped back, leaning on his desk.

I sat up, turning toward him.

He cleared his throat. "I need you to go. Now," he said. His voice was gruff and low and it hit me like a punch in the gut.

Tears sprang to my eyes. I realized I'd half imagined walking out with him, some last lingering kiss, maybe an invite to his hotel room to see him off properly. I just sat there, staring at him.

"Leah," he said, softly and he closed his eyes. "Really. I need you to go. If you don't."

He reached over and took my hand, pulling me upright. "If you don't, I'm going to wind up fucking you right here on this tile floor until you scream so loud someone calls security. If you don't leave right now."

He dropped my hand, stepped back behind his desk.

I couldn't speak, but I managed to nod. I went to the bookcase and put the business card in my purse. I turned to look at him, and he was staring into me. He was leaning on his fists, leaning over the desk, his mouth clamped shut, and his eyes wide.

I wanted to do something. I needed not to just walk out. I smiled at him. I reached down and pulled up my skirt, with my purse slung over my shoulder, the gift bag in one hand, and the clunky clogs back on my feet. I reached down with both hands, grabbing the hem without bending over. I held the skirt high.

He groaned, and punched his desk.

"Goodbye, sir," I said. I backed toward his door, and managed to keep the skirt up while I opened it behind me. I backed out into the hallway and stood, still exposed. He sat down at his desk, turned to his computer monitor and started typing.

I dropped the hem of my skirt and walked out. I didn't even think about where I was going. It was almost 8PM. I passed a security guard getting off the elevator at the lobby. He asked me why I was working so late. I shrugged.

"Just one of those things," I said. I laughed then. "You know how it is. You get caught up in something. Time flies."

He laughed, shook his head, clearly not understanding. I went home, both sad and content. I went home, knowing I was a changed woman, and glad of it.

*~~* *~~* *~~*

I called the woman on the card. I met her and we talked a lot. She introduced me to a number of people, some of whom became good friends. Eventually I found him, the person I chose. The man at whose feet I now kneel sometimes, who makes me scream, who wipes away my tears, and leaves me breathless. All because Oliver James walked into that room all those years ago.