Doctor of Desire Ch. 01byLargoKitt©
Chapter 1 – Getting Down To Business
Casey Darden, M.D. never worked for the woman herself. Hard and fast rule. It must be her friends, a member of the family, her lover or her spouse who hired him. They must pay and keep the fee secret from the woman being treated. But he never set the fee. He left it open for the client to decide. If she received full value; if the woman he had treated was now fully capable of unbridled passion, they were free to pay what they felt that was worth. Almost never had he been disappointed. Almost never had they been disappointed. Fortunately, many of his clients were very wealthy.
Casey's modus operandi was not to create a romantic relationship with the woman. Though he was never certain at first whether or not she knew he had been hired, he managed to let her know that he was there for her. Like a private masseur, like a personal trainer, like a bodyguard, a life counselor. He gave her his card after a nice long talk and then he went away. Give her time to call him back if she wanted the service. So far, nobody had turned it down. He always did his best to signal from the beginning that he was the kind of man who enjoyed a woman's body but did not make long-term commitments. It was true, both personally and professionally. But it was also a balancing act. Few women that he knew liked to feel they were being used, unless that state of humiliation was a turn on.
He had had a couple of cases like that, but the objective had been to bring her back to self-assured, confident sexuality. Most of his cases were women who as a result of trauma, appearance, age, or upbringing had locked up their sex and forgot how to find it. So in a sense he was a detective. He had to work hard to find, first, the crypt or bound chest in which they had hidden their treasures and then to help them to unlock the secret place and display the jewels.
Those who did not know him well but had heard of his profession often thought he had the perfect cushy job. Nothing could be easier. And look at the perks. He didn't try to explain that he was not a gigolo. His task was not to supply eye candy for bored divorcées, nor to tumble into the sack on demand. His job description was simple, "to help a woman with little desire for sex to want lots of good sex." But most of the work was not done in the bedroom. Most women of his acquaintance, and those he had read about needed sex to occur in a setting that was right for it.
There were few like his college buddy Lani Detrich who just went for it when they felt a tickle and stepped away from it without an afterthought. She was his Muse, the one who had started the whole business. He had bumped into her in an Internet café one afternoon about five years after they had left Med School. They had a comfortable chat about what they were doing. At that time he was just finishing his residency and she had landed a job as assistant marketing director for a lighting firm. They made a lunch date for a few days later.
He arrived at her office about fifteen minutes early and figured he would have to wait in the comfortable lobby for a bit. It had nice big tan leather chairs and Aberrataz southwestern prints on the wall. But when he started to pick up a magazine the receptionist, soft spoken and in filmy pastels, told him to just go to the conference room and tap on the door.
He did and someone opened it. Lani was in mid sentence of a PowerPoint® presentation about some new lighting installation at a boutique hotel. She continued for a couple of phrases but then stopped, apologized to the suits who seemed to be the clients, told them to grab a coffee break, dodged around the conference table, and took him firmly by the arm. She planted a gentle kiss behind his right ear and murmured, "God, I'm glad you got here now. I've been thinking too much about our lunch and not the hotel project. You're going to need to help me."
Using his elbow like the rudder of a small sailboat she steered him through the lobby, past the averted eyes of the receptionist and down a short corridor to an emergency exit door. The alarm had a key and she unlocked it. He was a bit surprised that the lone key was already in her hand. Pushing him through the door she slammed it behind them. With a hand in the middle of his chest she shoved him over until his back was against the landing wall. "Stay there please!" she whispered with a big smile. She was wearing a simple, elegant pinstriped suit with a mid-thigh fitting skirt. She grabbed the hem and pulled it up to her waist revealing stockings with tight lace tops and a lacy thong. Quickly she slipped the thong off and tucked it into the pocket of his jacket. "You can keep those."
Hunkering in front of him, she neatly unzipped his fly, undid the belt and the button and let his pants fall around his ankles.
"Spread your legs a little, thanks. Hmm, I guess you're not quite ready. Let me help." His cock was about at half-mast and, depending on circumstance, was ready to go up or down.
She knelt on the crumpled fabric between his legs. She was a tall woman and her face came just to the right spot.
"You let me know if I am even a little bit too rough."
She took two beautifully manicured fingers and lifted his loose sac gently to her lips, slowly engulfing one tender egg. She sucked on it as though it was the softest chocolate truffle.
"Mmm," low and deep in her throat. "Mmm."
The flagstaff rose to full length and as it did the purple plum of a head squeezed out of the tight foreskin. The length of it lay across her cheek and pushed up toward her temple. A fine clear bead appeared at the tip. After a moment it melted into the fine sweat on the pale skin at the roots of her red-brown hair.
"Ah!" He cried out. Her lips were strong and had pulled just a bit hard. As though to apologize she let her tongue gently wash the nut that was now beginning to do its work, clenching up toward his body where it could release its busy cargo.
Out in the corridor he heard the clatter of cups and the wheels on the coffee cart as it headed to the conference room. Two admin assists chattered about a sale down the block at the Gap. He felt his excitement lessen a bit.
"Please! Stay with me." She begged. "Just a little more of this, now, OK?"
She took his member tenderly in her left hand and gave it a little squeeze. The head stretched larger and her eyes got bigger. A little moan escaped as his tender knob disappeared into her open smile, stretched wide. His butt clenched and he almost lost it. She looked up through big wet disappointed eyes. Then her lips pulled down tight on him almost to the point of pain, sucking hard. She smiled around the shaft knowing he could wait if she did this.
It was hard, and it was difficult. He made a 'no' noise when she started to massage the head with her tongue, knowing that would send him over the edge. So she very, very slowly sucked it into her throat, her nostrils spreading very wide, as though to help, and at the same time suck his man-smell deep into her. She didn't stop until her lips were against his body burrowed in curling hair, her chin against his balls.
To lock him to her, she slid her left hand around and under his balls, letting her long middle finger press firmly on that magic spot just behind them. The hall outside was quiet now.
The hum of air conditioning came from up the stairwell. He heard a very tiny lapping sound and realized she must be caressing herself. Little shivers began to move up her body and he felt her throat clench. Small moans oozed around his cock.
It was too much. He cried out. He had to let go. He wanted to pour a quart of hot spunk deep into her throat.
But with a great gasp she tugged his cock from her mouth.
"Wait, wait, please wait! Hold tight. Let me go first."
He clenched his belly and held on. He heard her frantic right hand churning down below and felt her mouth, almost cruel, vacuuming his cock as though to milk every drop of juice from him. Then in one smooth movement she stood and planted a deep wide-mouth kiss on him. He let her hands, both of them, surround his cock and cram it into her urgent wet heat.
He expected a drenched swamp but to his surprise she was very tight and she took him in very slowly. She was no virgin, but what he felt must have been the accomplished clench of a woman who worked this muscle like an athlete.
He felt every millimeter. She took every inch and as the last one plunged home she grabbed his buttocks and pulled him as tight to her as she could get, grinding their pubic bones together.
"Now! If you have to! But wait, if you can!"
She took his lower lip in her teeth and began to rock with him deep inside her. He felt her belly spasm and spasm again and the tight damp fur of her mons scrubbed hard against his pubic bone, hungry, urgent. Suddenly she was burying her moans deep in his mouth, her tongue a wet animal all over his, her hands jerking hard at the shoulders of his jacket as her hips rammed him again and again against the wall.
One long cry and he felt her hot juice erupt around his cock and run down his legs.
She shuddered with long aftershocks, her face buried deep in his neck, a patch of skin sucked hard into her mouth. He knew he would have a serious hickey the next day.
When she finally came up for air, her face bright pink, her pupils wide and wet and dark, he figured he had done his job. Inside her his cock began a slow curl. She felt it, of course, and a small furrow appeared between her brows.
"No, stop." Her voice was very low, very slow. "I'm not done."
"You could have fooled me." He was feeling just a bit used.
"No. I need yours or else it's all wasted. That's the whole point."
"How do you want me? Against the wall? On the stairs so you can dog me?"
Sweet. No roughness to her question. He considered his options. With his pants around his ankles any change would add comedy.
"I could turn around, like a lap dance." She offered salaciously.
"I like you in my arms. Let's stay the way we are."
He was still deep in her, hot and comfortable. Didn't know if he could get it this way.
"Slide your back down the wall, just a little." She suggested.
He did. She let his warm organ slide out until just the tip was between her lips. Grabbing it tightly, she rubbed it against her sensitive places. She jerked. He jerked, the tender skin liking this friction. She smiled. She squeezed the shaft so the head was as tight and shiny and big and purple as it could be. Pushed it hard into her until it popped into the soft part inside.
Popped it out. Did the whole trick over several times. Soon he was so hard it stung and his balls and belly ached for release.
"Are you ready?" Her face was close to his, thick wings of hair making a private room of their faces. They were both breathing heavily now.
"Go." He let her start, moving in slow rhythm up and down his shaft all the way, slowly pulling almost all the way out, feeling the cool air on it, then jamming down hard and fast. She yelped every time he went in and gave a shivery little moan every time he came out. It was a mystery. She was so tight and yet so wet.
His hands on her ass were slippery with it and he rubbed her own juices into her cheeks, seeking a better grip, fingers finally finding a seat deep in the cleft. His middle finger massaged the puckered spot and he felt it open a little. A cat sound growled from her and her head went back. Inside he felt her open, too and he knew he could ride in with full force.
She unbuttoned her jacket. Under it she was wearing no blouse, just a simple underwire bra that matched the thong in his pocket. She undid the snap over her breastbone and the natural beauties flowed out. Her nipples were a smoky lavender with a hint of rust in the corollas, though the blush covering her chest and belly tinted them with rouge. She lifted one toward his mouth and he pulled the tight cylinder with the fat pink tip deep into his mouth. She jerked. Down below started to get noisy with all the juice.
She wanted a regular beat and he let her have it for a couple dozen strokes feeling his cock force the yeah, yeah, YEAH, yeah, yeah, YEAH out of her. Her head shook and hair thrashed with the rhythm. But now it was his time to do it. Squeezing both cheeks of her ass roughly he dragged her on and off his shaft in the rhythm he wanted, now fast, now slow, now deep now shallow, building, building. He tilted her back so the head could massage her magic spot and she began to lose it, her voice no longer her own.
Deep into her, he heard footsteps above and before he knew it, a wiry guy in an industrial jumpsuit carrying a bucket came down the stairs. To Lani the man didn't seem even to be there, or so he thought. She just kept up her fucking. The guy just walked past them and on down. But as he was going by he lightly put his hand in the middle of Lani's back, as though to steady himself. Casey thought he saw her toss him a tiny smile. The next minute she was coming.
This time he didn't wait, though he let her beat him to the finish line. He saw the orgasm hit her in the face as her mouth and nostrils stretched as wide as possible to let it in. It filled her throat. It convulsed through her chest, shaking her breasts again and again and then drove deep into her belly and wouldn't let go. Her mons ground into him and twisted in a tight circle making him brace his legs against it. Her hips popped again and again, her thighs clutching him. He plunged a slippery finger deep into her ass.
"Please. Please, please. Please! PLEASE!"
He took her firmly by the hips and disappeared. He was nowhere but inside that mad, wet room. No craft, no art, no performance, just the beast doing what beasts do, no names, no style, so deep, feeling it build. They say that when a man releases he only lets go on one side, so the other is ready for the next time. But that day he swore he fired from both guns. There was an odd, beautiful pause, a second and forever, and then he was shooting every ounce of sap deep, deep into her. It wouldn't stop. The aftershocks came again and again, so that just when he thought he was done his balls clenched and shook loose another load.
As he slowly shrank away he felt her shudders too, the walls of her warm cunt clutching at him, whole body shaking as breathy little moans left it.
She fell into his arms and he was not sure how long they stayed that way. He came to when he realized his legs were shaking. Lani stepped away from him, buttoning her jacket and tugging her skirt down where it belonged. It must have been some miracle fabric because there was hardly a wrinkle in it. She ran her fingers back through her hair and miraculously it fell almost perfectly into place.
"Do you have a handkerchief?"
Miraculously, he did.
"Can I borrow it?"
He fished it out of his pocket and gave it to her.
She took it and tidied his face, brushing his hair back into place. She kissed him.
"Now you do me." She handed him the handkerchief. He dabbed her damp upper lip and the shiny spot on her chin. Selfishly, he didn't touch her slick temples.
"My turn again." This time she took the cloth and gently cleaned off his privates, careful to dry the drenched balls. He reached out his hand.
"That's OK. I'll do me." She reached up under her skirt and when the hand reappeared the handkerchief was not in it.
"I'll give it to you later," she said in a businesslike way. "Ready?"
He had just managed to finish zipping up his pants.
They saw no one in the corridor when they reentered the office. Lani walked with him to the reception desk where the receptionist was holding out two washroom keys. Casey, who felt naked, expected some hidden or disapproving look, but she gazed at Lani soft-eyed, clearly just a touch envious.
When Casey got out of the washroom Lani was already waiting for him. Except for a slight pinkness in her cheeks that could have been makeup, and a small pucker in the knee of her stocking she looked ready for business.
"I should be done in ten minutes, fifteen at tops. Please wait. There are plenty of sports magazines and Marcia will give you a headset that plugs into the company mp3 collection. See ya in a bit. Oh, here's your hanky." She didn't even wink. He took the damp object and put it in his pocket resisting the urge to sniff it.
As he headed back to the lobby he glanced at the sculptural clock in the corner and was astonished to see it was just one minute past midday. It felt like mid afternoon.
He was grateful that the receptionist didn't want to talk. But as he waited he read her body language and realized he could tell she would never do what Lani had done, though he couldn't be sure Lani hadn't done something similar with her. But that was what got him to thinking.
What a difference in women. He remembered overhearing his sister on the phone with her best friend. She was complaining about how there was so little passion in her life, in the lives of so many of her friends. "No one ever had orgasms. Hell, their blood pressure hardly rises, even when the guy is chugging away."
His sister had caught sight of him and shut up. But what an idea. Maybe there could be a new profession in this. He would need to take more psychology courses, be very professional. And each case, each therapy would have to be tailored exactly to the woman who needed it.
Later at lunch Lani completely bought into the idea. When he expressed a doubt that a man could always really know where a woman should go with her sexuality Lani was the one who suggested a team approach, research, and enlisting the help of the woman's friends or relatives where appropriate to find out the exact needs of that person. They would sponsor her. She told him she was sure there were several women who were ready right then to be clients: an ex-nun who couldn't seem to get ready for men, a first-class athlete who never had a steady guy, a mature woman who wrote 'dirty' historical romances but always kept her legs crossed, a workaholic chief exec, a gal who couldn't stop talking long enough to fuck, even a lesbian who dreamed of having a baby "the natural way" but didn't want to even pretend she was changing her sexual orientation.
Lani was sure that he could do it and that once word got around about this unique service the client list would be endless.
He and Lani had a couple more dates, sex in actual beds. It wasn't the same. They were too much the same. The novelty of the first time was what had made it dynamite. Besides, now they were business partners and you gotta be careful about mixing sex and work. And soon he was working a lot.