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The remainder of the morning, although hectic and eventful, seemed to drag on forever. Roll on lunchtime, she mused, when the surgery would lock itself away from the world for half an hour. Mmm. Thirty minutes alone with her hunky doctor and his probing hands. Oh, and his stiff, fleshy thermometer, of course. She couldn’t wait. But in the meantime, she had no choice but to navigate her way through a chaotic storm of patients.
It felt like the whole town had suddenly become ill. Every disease, ailment, cut, bruise, scratch, rash, and broken bone known to mankind came stumbling, staggering, or crashing helplessly through those front doors. Or, failing that, wheeled in like human hostess trolleys, but without the chocolate éclairs.
Minutes felt like hours. And hours felt like days. Amidst a torrent of telephone bookings, computer data input and over-anxious patients with minor sniffles claiming themselves to be on the verge of death, she could feel her pussy pouting. Pining for her handsome doctor. Screaming out for some serious action. All it wanted to do was come out to play. Was it really too much to ask?
At last. Lunchtime arrived. Doctor Allcock closed and locked the doors. He pulled down the blinds, shutting out the threat of prying eyes. He then turned around and smiled. Veronica was sitting on the desk. Watching him. Waiting for his company. She beckoned him with her finger to come closer. So he did.
Eager lips pushed together in a seemingly eternal kiss as hands wandered freely around each other’s bodies. Veronica placed both palms upon his muscular chest, caressing the fruits of regular gym attendance. Allcock wrapped his arms around her slim waist, squeezing the small of her back through the thin cotton of her blouse with fervent fingertips. She folded her legs around his hips and tightened her grip on him, like she was a human vice. This doctor was not getting away.
She moved her hands onto his solid buttocks and clenched hard, bringing the man closer to her waiting body, so that his bulge met her bare pussy. He began to gyrate his pelvis, pressing his rock-hard lump against her muff, simulating his intentions toward her. She pulled out of the kiss and beamed at the man, gazing into his beautiful azure eyes, wanting him, needing him, craving everything about him.
‘Oh, Veronica,’ he whispered, volleying back a smile. ‘You are just what the doctor ordered.’
She responded with, ‘And you’re the only medicine I’m prepared to swallow.’
Yeah, yeah, so their exchanges were teetering on the wrong side of naff and cliché, she thought, but it was also good fun.
Allcock unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a pair of buxom breasts cupped in black lace. His hands fell upon them, fondling them, pressing them, pushing them together. Veronica found herself surprised by the warmth of his mitts upon her bare skin. The hands of a doctor were usually bloody freezing. But not his. They were hot. And so was he.
Curious fingers burrowed underneath her bra. He discovered her hardening nipples with ease and flicked them gently as he peppered her neck with licks and kisses. She liked his methods, loved them, and emitted a squeal of approval. Her legs wrapped themselves tighter around his hips, pushing the bulge in his trousers even closer to her treasures down below. In response, he gyrated faster, smashing himself into her groin, sending Veronica into a fizzy, fuzzy frenzy.