Yes, I know….there’s not much I wouldn’t do sexually if I felt the urge, but even I have some sense of decorum….until, that is, ‘he’ walked into my pub when I happened to be there.
Tall enough to need to stoop slightly under the ancient low oak beams, slim, very expensive suit, and his voice…..oh my God….Cambridge University all the way…..and his eyes cut laser holes in my soul. When he opened his mouth to speak, he didn’t just launch into what he wanted, he engaged me in light conversation first…..and I literally and figuratively wet myself.
Even before he’d finished his first sentence I was a hot mess down there. My eyes flashed downward to his left hand…no wedding ring…and then back to that open, warm, welcoming face. Miss Brain yelped for joy and presented me with an image of him holding my face in those long, slim fingers, and his face tilted slightly sideways coming in for a kiss……fuck me…..no, really….fuck me!
The hands of a pianist or perhaps a surgeon? And then my dreamy voice entered the conversation. “May I know your name?” Oh for fuck’s sake, Anna! Seriously? He smiled, causing another litre or two of girl cum to escape me, before saying, “Michael Evans. Dr. Michael Evans, actually. I’m the new GP here. (Mental note: switch GPs immediately….in fact I made the phone call when I’d finished serving him. One way or another those fingers are going inside me.)
While we waited for his food to arrive he chatted to me and was very impressed when he found I was the owner. I told him about my recently sold chain of coffee stores, and that pubs were my new venture.
And then, as I watched him eat, while trying not to look like I was watching him eat. Tig entered my mind. I remembered how she told me that groups of students would examine one another. “Sure, there’s no feckin’ privacy as a med student. We stick each other with needles, examine each other’s ‘bits, tits and twats’. Fer one or two of the men, yer’ d think it was the first twat they’d ever fingered!” Imagine if I’d been Michael’s lab partner! I’d asked Tig if it ever got…er…embarrassing, “….you know….if a girl gets too wet….or a guy gets hard?” Tig laughed her head off. ”What, yer think that never happens during a real examination? It’s one of the things we have to get used to. Some old guy having his balls felt by a pretty young doctor…well ... wouldn’t you get a hard-on?” I hadn’t thought of it like that.
Meanwhile, Dr. Scrumptious was eating his lunch and I was imagining those lips and tongue working on me. I was perched on a stool behind the bar, letting Miss Brain lead me through a series of delightful scenarios when, without warning, I simply came into my panties.
And what a cum it was! Every time I tried to move a jerk went through my body making me look like I was having some kind of epileptic seizure. I had slapped one hand onto the bar to steady myself or I would, without question, have fallen off the stool. I also felt myself squirt ... heavily.
I have had a couple of touchless orgasms in my life and they’re always immense affairs. What made me cum? Oh, that’s easy. Miss fucking Brain had given me an image of Dr. Gorgeous naked, on top of me, cupping my face in his hands, and saying, in that upper-class, educated accent, “I’m going to put my cock inside you.” Yes yes yes…I know….cheesey as fuck, right? But, well, you had to be there.
So … I came. And squirted. And when I slithered off my stool I felt the back of my skirt and wasn’t surprised to find it wet. Worse still, it was a colour that showed the wetness. Bugger! Fortunately, I always carry a change of clothes in my car. I was just about to leave the bar to get them when Dr. Cumalot rose from his table and went to the restroom. Miss Brain wasn’t slow to remind me that at the very least he would have his cock in his hand in a moment or two. Which gave rise to yet more vaginal twitching.
I made a run for the car, grabbed my clothes kit and, in the tiny office behind the bar removed my panties and put on a dry pair and a new skirt.
Dr. Make-a-girl-cream came to say goodbye, rendering my new clothes as wet as the discarded ones. Fuck men sideways! I haven’t had a reaction like that for a very long time!
But I wouldn’t mind one again!
Tig told me in a Zoom call that night some juicy details about her group, although because of her accelerated progress, she has had three different cohorts. She qualifies as a doctor this year. I have no doubt though that she will never see clinical practice. With a brain like hers, she’s likely to disappear into the world of research. This little girl from the rough end of Derry is going to save millions of lives.
Oh … yes ... of course I did. I fucked myself to a standstill with our biggest dildo thinking about my new family doctor. Can’t wait to be unwell!
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