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This story is purely FICTIONAL. All characters are over the age of 18. Some of the places named in this story are real, others are fictional. In my little fantasy world there are no STD's or AIDS, but we live in the real world so please practice safe sex.
©All rights reserved.
This is my first online story so please send some feedback. I live in South Africa, so my spelling differs somewhat to American English. The story contains a ton of dialogue, so if you're looking for something that jumps straight to the sex part, it might not be for you.
For PTA East's hot orthopaedic surgeon and stand-in guy who inspired this story. I sincerely hope you never read this 'cause this might harder to explain than the time I fell in ICU and fractured my ribs.
Hugs & Happiness to All,
Daniella
~*~
Having had many shunt revisions in the same hospital with the same neurosurgeon (I think I hold the record of 10 operations in 2 years), I was likely to meet the stand-in surgeon as neurosurgeons actually have lives, well sort of.
Eventually the inevitable happened; I met Doctor James M. Neeson: orthopaedic and spinal surgeon, the stand-in guy. Wow, what can I say? Firstly, he's ridiculously tall; that's the first thing everyone notices. Secondly, he tends to be full of shit; the neuro says one thing and his attitude is like 'Fuck you, I run the show now and you're not going anywhere!'
My first face off with him came one Saturday morning a few months back; I had surgery that Thursday and he took over for a few days, whilst Dr. Smith went to Cape Town for some much needed rest. Dr. Smith tends works 'til stupid-o-clock most days; and it's not unlikely to find him wondering around the wards at 2 in the morning, planning the next day's surgeries. Ask me, I've been found out by him more than once, walking through the neurosurgery ward at all hours of the night. I'm a chronic insomniac and the beds are fucking terrible. And the pills SUCK!
I was I.C.U., desperate to get back to regular ward just so that I could be free of all those damn cuffs and tubes, and of course those bloody bedpans. Here I was hoping Dr. Neeson would be my white knight in shining armour and busted me out of there; I was sorely mistaken.
"Hi, hoe gaan dit?"{'Hello, how are you?'}He asked. Living in Pretoria, almost everybody speaks Afrikaans. I can speak Afrikaans, it's my second language, but I tend to speak English most of the time; and I refuse to speak Afrikaans to people unless I know them well. Like my mom, although most of what we talk about should never be repeated in front of anyone that lives outside of our home. EVER.
"Fine, thank you."
"Any problems?" He asked. Even if I had any problem I wasn't about tell him about them.
"No. Do you think I can go to the general ward today?"
"No. You're only on day 1 post op."
"Please?" I whined like a 4 year old, "Dr. Smith said I could go to the general ward today." In these few moments I realized 2 things. Number 1: doctors lie; number 2: I wasn't going to change his mind, not that it stopped me from trying.
Basically we repeat the same conversation every time I saw him. I only ever wanted to be move to a normal ward or go home. My attitude in life has always been 'You go in there, you get the job done and you get the fuck out!' Being in hospital was no different. I had spent so much time in hospital the last few years I could practically run the place.
However, the more I spoke to him the more I started noticing small things about him. Like how big his hands are(it got me wondering what else is big). The unusual colour of his eyes. The way you could see a tiny glimpse of his chest hair sticking out just above the buttons of his shirt. The slightest hint of grey starting to show around his temples. The fact that he never wore a suit, I loved the way his ass looked in his khakis and his faded blue jeans. My favourite part of his rounds was when he had his back to me; I swear I could spend hours just staring at that ass.
I had come to enjoy these little battles of will between us. He had become my favourite opponent and secretly my favourite fantasy when I masturbated...
*****
About a month ago I got tearful phone call from my best friend, Jason. His long-time boyfriend, Chris had just broken up with him. Apparently he needed some space, although I reckon he was more than likely cheating. I had never actually liked Chris from the first day that I had met him, and the feeling was mutual but I love Jason, so I tolerated him.
My family had bought a few restaurants over the last couple of years and I had come to know most of the staff, from the doormen to waiter and the cooks. So, I decided to have one of the doormen drive me down from Pretoria to Randburg.
I had absolutely no intention of driving myself as I knew that there was no way I'd make it home without a DUI. Hell, I probably wouldn't be able to find my car or my keys for that matter. The Plan: Dinner and drinks, lots and lots of drinks. Truthfully, that's my answer to many problems of the heart.
Dinner turned out to be amazing Italian food with the Vino flowing freely. After dinner we moved to the bar and started on the cocktails.
"Would you like to tell me what you're doing?" Startled, I spun around, drink in hand, on my bar stool to see Dr. Neeson standing right behind me.
"Um... Drinking. Jason's boyfriend just broke up with him so as any good friend would do, so I bought him dinner, and I'm getting him and myself horribly drunk."
"Uh, his boyfriend?" He asked, looking rather dumbfounded by my choice of words.
"Yup, as in the man he had carnal relations with."
Just then Jason made is grand return from the bathroom. "Dani, would you like to tell who your friend over here is?"
"Doctor Neeson." I braced myself for what I surely knew was going to happen next. I love Jason to death but sometimes he can't shut up. Now would be one of those times.
"OH.MY.GOD! You're the hot orthopaedic surgeon Dani likes!" Jason squealed like little child, "Are you single?"
At this point I wanted to murder Jason and then crawl into a hole and die.
"Yes, I'm single." My mind was doing a little happy dance. I had always wondered if he was single; he never wore a ring so I assumed that he wasn't married but that didn't make him unattached. Men like him, especially doctors, draw women in like bees to honey. Sexy, skilled and well off. Completely and utterly fuckable.
"So, you think I'm hot?" He did this cute thing with his eye brows he usually does when he tries to draw an honest answer out of me. It gets me every time.
I was about to answer when Jason decide to do it for me, "Oh, she thinks you're more than hot. I think she has a stalker like fascination with you."
"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"
"I didn't know you use words like that, I'm impressed." Dr. Neeson said, very entertained by the whole situation.
"OH, FUCK OFF!"
"Uh, Baby Doll, you do realize you just told Dr. Dreamboat over here to fuck off?"
"Yeah, he'll live." "Hey doc, if I throw him down these stairs will he need option A: a surgeon or option B: a body bag?"
"More than likely option B."
"Fantastic!" "So, what are you doing here; a bit far from home aren't we?"
"I was having dinner with some friends from my university days; it's an old friend's birthday. I hope you're not planning to drive yourself home." He asked, giving me a stern look, pointing to the Cosmopolitan in my hand.
"Nope, that is what Ty and Jake are here for." I said motioning to the two doormen downstairs.
"You know Ty is going to be so pissed off having to drive you all the way back to Pretoria."
"Ty's a big boy, he'll survive." When I say Ty is a big boy I mean it in all senses of the word. He's 6 foot 3, 200 pounds of pure muscle and his favourite hobby is kickboxing and he likes to play with knives. Long story short: you don't fuck with Ty, ever.
"I didn't know you live in Pretoria. Where about do you stay?"
"Stormy Skies Estate." Stormy Skies Estate is one of those country club estates where you buy the plot of land and then build on it. My parents bought the place so that I could manage more of the business on that side of the world. Stormy Skies got its name from the frequent summer thunder storms the Highveld is so well known for. I think it was one of the main attractions when we bought the house. I have always loved watching lighting strike; the absolute power of it amazes me every time.
"So do I, it's a really nice place and it's practically right across the road from the hospital."
After looking at Dr. Neeson I suddenly had a light bulb moment... "You know you really should close your bedroom curtains at night, I get to see the little dance you do every morning when you pick out your clothes. Not that I'm complaining, it makes my day every time."
"What the fuck! How would you know what I do in the morning?" He asked, seemingly startled.
"I live in 13!" I replied, giggling. I'm a happy drunk, happy and chatty.
I do most of my work from home, so I don't have a fixed schedule although I tend to wake at the same time most morning. Usually, just in time to see my sexy neighbour come out of the bathroom after his morning bath or shower, not certain which one, naked and pick out his clothes for the day. He does this little sway, shaking his sexy ass as he tries to pick out his shirt and pants. Now I could finally put a name to my incredibly hot neighbour. I don't know why I didn't figure it out sooner.
"Oh, man, you have got to be shitting me!" He said in a surprised tone of voice. My statement struck him like a ton of bricks. Apparently I wasn't the only person who watched their neighbours happenings. Laughingly, he asked "So, do you always swim naked at night?"
"Yes," I laughed, "I don't see the point of wearing a swimsuit if your body ends up getting wet anyway!" One of the best things about living alone is being able to enjoy life's little pleasures without anybody telling you how you should behave or dress. I have always loved water, especially swimming. My parents' house has a massive pool and I swam almost daily growing up so when my house was being built the first thing I insisted one was a pool.
"Okay peoples, it's been emotional but it's time for me to fuck off like the robber's dog. I'm gonna have Jake drive me home. I love you, Baby Doll. Thanks for tonight; you always know how to make me feel better. It's been fun meeting you doc; you take care of my girl. Remember, I know where you work! Well, sort of."
"I should probably get home as well. Ty needs to go home at some point tonight."
"Let me take you home." James said, a definite promise in his voice.
"I'd like that."
Getting out in to the night air I shivered.
The drive home was probably the longest it had ever been for me. Sitting in the passenger seat of his Jag, I felt like I might spontaneously combust.
I kissed his neck, laving the spot behind his ear, whispering to him exactly what I wanted to do with his cock whilst stroking the bulge in those jeans I had come to love. His fingers tracing the outline my pussy lips through my tiny, soft, black lace panties.
Finally, getting through the estate's security gates and out of the car; he pulled me out of the car, pressing me against the car door, kissing me until we were both breathless
We barely made it through the door fast enough for me to disarm the security system. I didn't even get a chance to put the lights on before he started kissing me again. Somehow we eventually ended in the kitchen after bumping in to my couches and knocking the coffee table over, stripping his shirt and shoes off as we went.
Lifting me up unto the cool granite of the kitchen counter top, he began pushing my dress up so that he could pull my panties off.
Pushing his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion, his cock jutting out, I realised I had been right about his size. He was long and thick; and as hard as steel.
Gripping my hips, he shoved his cock deep into my pussy, causing me to moan as my head fell back. I felt so full. So fucking good.
"God, you are so tight, baby." He groaned; squeezing my breasts in his incredible hands, pinching my nipples.
Dragging me from the counter onto the floor, he rolled us over so that he was on top of my body. "You are so fucking hot." He moaned.
"Oh, James, fuck me. Fuck me hard," I begged. My breath coming in short gasps as I moved closer and close to orgasm.
"Yes. Yes. Oh God, James, I'm so close. So close..." Slipping his hand between our bodies, he found my clit and rubbed it as he thrust in and out of my pussy. Screaming his name, I came, HARD. It was the most intense orgasm I had ever had; it felt like a tsunami had rolled over me. Feeling my pussy contracted around his cock, he came in me. His hot cum bathing the inside of my pussy.
Lying on the kitchen floor, his body still pressing down on me; feeling his cum slowly leak from my pussy, I said "I think I need a doctor; I'm not sure I can move my legs."
"Well, I could always check that out for you..."
Fin.
Just reading the author's note and I knew this was going to be a great story:
"For PTA East's hot orthopaedic surgeon and stand-in guy who inspired this story. I sincerely hope you never read this 'cause this might harder to explain than the time I fell in ICU and fractured my ribs."
I keep cracking up, and honestly, I'd LOVE to read something where the "inspiration" stumbles across his own erotic story.
I hope you write more and perhaps write longer, multi-page and/or multi-chapter stories.
That's exactly what I needed to hear!!! BTW, is there to much dialog? Input, people, input!
It got very hurried at the end. Suddenly, kissing, dirty talk and being felt up? Either more flirting and physical affection at the club or more sex details. Both would help. Great story and good start.