tagNovels and NovellasDoctor of Desire Ch. 02

Doctor of Desire Ch. 02

byLargoKitt©

Chapter 2 - A Hot Workout

Casey was still mulling over the idea and starting to do his reading when he got a call from Lani. "Are you ready to go to work?"

"What?"

"I've got a client. Ready and willing. Or at least ready and pretty willing. Her sister is the contact. She has already softened her up a touch. Not actually. This one is no softy. Hard body. Serious athlete. You may have heard of her. Deann Downs."

"Deann Downs? That Deann Downs? You're not serious. That one could get any man on the planet."

He did his research.

He met with the sister, who was definitely a sister and raised an eyebrow when she saw Casey walk into the club where Lani had arranged for them to meet. Discreet waiters in starched linen jackets. Good wine. Plates of cheeses, crudite. The sister voiced her concern.

"How is a dude as white as you going to get my gal to turn on her freak? Hell, marshmallow, you likely don't know what a freak is or what to do if you accidentally bump into it. Oh, I'm not saying you're not cute. You are cute as Lani said you were. Let me tell you, given the right night and I'm out of my teddy and briefs, but Deann. Girl's got serious attitude. The woman is a serious athlete, a sprinter and long jumper and pole vaulter. Always in training. But even though she is at the top of her game and got a body like an Olympic statue and good money in the bank from endorsements she is not happy with what is happening in her bed. She has been so driven to succeed that sex mostly just gets in the way. And men, even other athletes who know the sacrifice and training required, treat her like some dumb bitch who wins by dumb luck or like some Amazon they have to beat with their hands and their dicks in order to maintain their pride. They just do her and move on. Jawbone with their crew. Well, and sometimes she just does them. Over in a couple of minutes. After a while she just gave it up. Didn't even really do herself."

Casey also talked, discreetly to another athlete on Deann's travel team. She told Casey that Deann talked about "losing her edge" and "going soft." Still, she could tell there was something missing. She talked about "feeling like a dried up leaf inside." And what worried her was that it seemed to be affecting her performance. Some women took male hormones to get their freak back on. She couldn't do that without being disqualified.

Casey got all the backstory before he arranged for their first encounter at her next track practice.

They didn't actually really meet. He wanted it that way. He wanted to observe. But he didn't hide. He arrived as the women were doing their stretching and marked out his "patient." She was clearly a very healthy specimen. But then all of them were. There was the lanky Slav with no hips, the short powerful gal with killer thighs and the tight pony tail, the giggly blond, seemingly too soft for a competitive athlete, yet he knew she was a world class 1500 meter runner. But "his" gal, Deann was something to see. He felt guilty because he couldn't help comparing her body to a fine thoroughbred mare, especially in the skintight running outfit that revealed every muscle on her body.

Above medium height. Fine square shoulders and toned arms. Washboard belly, great powerful thighs and graceful though compact calves. Slim ankles. Magnificent buttocks, high, round and separate. It took his breath away to see them bunch and release as she jogged down the track. Light brown skin, full lips, generous nose with nostrils that flared when she ran, big gray eyes, short afro that bounced just a little when she moved. Great shy smile with double dimples when she spotted him in the stands and he gave a little wave.

He said almost nothing to her that day, "Hi, I'm Casey. I'll be giving you a call." That evening he told her sister and her best friend, that he would take the job.

For three weeks he didn't call. But every two or three days he appeared in the stands beside the track to watch her, waved, disappeared while she was busy with her practice. He worked to keep it irregular, to keep her off base. Finally, he noticed her mouth was going down and tight when she saw him. He allowed himself to sit right down near her stretching area at the next practice. After she was warmed up she stalked over to him as he knew she would.

"What are you doing? Whatever it is, it is messing up my routine. Mean seriously. I go looking to see if you are here and I'm not paying attention to my work. Almost walked under a javelin the other day. I don't get it. You are supposed to be helping me, but you are messing me up. If this is how you work, let's just call it off, OK? Seriously, I don't want to be doing that Jr. High school 'will he, won't he' thing. Let's get this thing going, or forget it."

"You're ready?"

"What did I just say?"

"You are a woman of action."

"That's me"

"That could be a problem."

"What? How is that?"

"Meet me for lunch at the Silverside Diner and we'll find out."

"Why should I?"

"Because your sister and your girlfriend want you to, I want you to, and I think you want you to. I am led to believe there is something missing in your life."

"Well it isn't exactly a man. I got plenty of those if I just put on the right tight dress. And what would I want with a white boy like you anyway?" She held her fingers a couple of inches apart. "If the brothers with the serious johnsons don't do it for me."

"It's not about them. It's not about me. It's about you. I think maybe I can help."

"You mean 'help yourself.' Well, I'm not an order of fried chicken."

Casey was getting tired of the banter. He knew it had its place, but he was pretty sure it was one of the tools Deann used to keep men at arms length. So he stepped further away, just ignored the zap.

"Lunch at one o'clock. Will that be alright?"

"Sure. Why not?"

If possible Deann looked better in a pair of sky blue Bermuda shorts and a pink tank top. Simple, straightforward. Sexy. He discovered they were her own design. Really her own, not just something she pasted her name on.

"Here's what it is," he told her, passing the menu across the table. "I am not even going to pretend to be careful of your routine, to make sure you are in training and getting plenty of sleep. I'm warning you now, so you can get full use out of me, because your game is going to suffer. But I'm making a bet with you, and myself, that we can pass through this well before you need to knuckle down for the nationals. And by then I personally think you will be in the best shape of your life."

"Pretty speech. And all just to get my freak on a little louder. I don't know. I reserve the right to bail at any time, any second."

"Of course."

They ate most of the meal in silence.

"So do we go somewhere and you jump my bones now?"

"No, I don't want to do that."

"You don't?"

They were walking out of the restaurant. He stopped and she stopped and he just looked at her, all the way up and all the way down.

"No, I don't."

"I guess you are just some kind of queer who knows all the right moves. I've heard of those."

"I don't fuck men. And I didn't say I didn't want you. I just said I didn't want to go somewhere and jump your bones."

"So what's next?"

"Well, I'd like you to meet me at the stadium tonight. Just before they turn the lights out. That would be about ten, right?"

"They lock the place."

"I have a key."

"You have a key. I don't know. You could be some kind of pervert or creepy rapist. My cousin is a cop, a big cop."

"Bring him, if it makes you feel safer. But I think you can take care of yourself."

"I can."

"Tonight then."

"Tonight."

He wasn't late, in fact, a little bit early. She was wearing a dress. He knew she would be; he had his informants, so he had brought along a pair of running shoes in her size. That's all.

"So what are we going to do? Talk? Make out? Lie on the grass and look at the stars? Make love on the infield?

"None of the above."

He locked the entrance gate behind him and led her through the tunnel under the bleachers. Her steps grew slower behind him.

"What's the matter?"

"I don't think getting raped in this tunnel is my idea of good therapy."

"Me neither. Why would you?"

"Because another man, a very handsome fullback thought that would be 'the perfect therapy for what was wrong with me.'"

"I'm not that man."

"No, but he's not the only one with that idea."

"There's nothing wrong with you."

"Is that right? Then why are we here?"

He stopped and looked at the empty stadium, emerald under the lights.

"You want to be here, and some people who care a lot for you want you to be happy."

"And you are going to make me happy?"

He turned and gently took her shoulders.

"I am not going to 'make you' anything. I believe that with my help you can be who you want to be."

"And who is that?"

"Are you willing to trust me long enough to find out if you really want to find out?"

She said nothing for a long time, staring into his eyes, questioning. Then she nodded.

"Good." Casey pulled a switch and the stadium lights went out.

"What do we do now?"

"Follow me."

He led her down to the track, holding her hand on the dark steps. Then he sat on a bench beside the track.

"Take off your heels and put these on."

"You know my size?"

"They are your favorite cross trainers."

"What are we going to do?"

"We are going to run."

"In a dress?"

"That's up to you. You have a choice, the dress or nothing at all."

"I like this dress."

"I do too."

"I'll take it off."

He helped her unzip the dress, took it and carefully folded it on the bench.

She wore a little uplift bra that made her bosom swell nicely above the lavender cups and matching lavender bikini briefs with lace that decorated her well rounded thighs and allowed a tantalizing bit of buttock to show.

"Your own design?"

She smiled and pivoted showing them off.

"What are you going to wear, boxers or briefs?"

"Same as you. Nothing."

"Oh, when you said nothing you meant nothing. I thought..."

"I know, and much as I would love to see you get those silkies all sweated up, that was not my contract."

"This seems soon."

"It does, doesn't it? But those are my terms. Deal?"

She frowned but began slipping a strap off her shoulder.

"I don't think I am as pretty with nothing on at all. I was hoping for something classy."

"I agree that you are gorgeous in your lace. But this is not about impressing me. This is about you being free. Please, favor me."

She let him help unhook the bra and the stepped gracefully out of the briefs.

"What now?"

"I want you to run."

"You're not running with me?"

"Not yet. You are so much better trained than I. We will stretch together. Then you run alone. You show me how you warm up. Please excuse my eyes on your body. You are magnificent."

She stretched her arms to the sky twisting her wrists together the S shaped muscles lifting her small, round breasts high, her dark corollas puckering and nipples tightening into hard purple beads in the cool summer air and under his admiring gaze. Then she leaned forward, chest against her knees pulling the muscles of her legs tight, causing the hard curve of her buttocks to gleam just a bit in the moonlight.

"You aren't saying anything," she murmured. Most guys would be making cracks.

"If you like you can imagine what I am saying, what I am admiring. I will just admire in silence."

Boldly she placed her legs at shoulder width and swung her arms from side to side. Then she stepped wider and stretched toward the ground. Boldly he walked around behind her and admired the groove down the middle of her back ending in the swollen cheeks of her buttocks and as she bent forward the shy pale line that separated the dark patch below.

"Hey pervert, my turn!"

He actually blushed a bit as he stretched his legs apart. In the cool air his sack hugged his body and his member was hardly more than a button. He swallowed his embarrassment as she walked around him and looked as nonchalantly as he had. Together they stretched their quads, standing and pulling heel against ass. Her tailored dark triangle framed the strong flat muscles of her belly. He waggled a little, not feeling very impressive and feeling glad for the forty crunches he did each AM.

"Time to run."

"Time to run."

"Sure you won't come with me?"

"Sure. I'll just stay here and protect your dainties. I'd like you just to run free. Feel the wind on your body. Open yourself too it. Don't think about form. Just make love to the night. Let the moon bathe your shoulders. Feel the heat come up in you. Let your muscles fill with it. Go"

She had been prancing in place and she bolted at his word. Soon she was lost in the darkness at the end of the track. He saw her emerge and take the straightaway, her chin back, arms loose, knees high. He was not surprised when she blew right by him once and then twice and then he joined her.

He ran for a time just behind her, watching the bunching and release of those magnificent buttocks. Then for a time they ran in stride. He was proud to match her pace and happy she did not compete. They ignored time, warming until both their bodies shone and the sweat ran in a shine between her gently bouncing breasts.

They both knew which was the last lap and sprinted for the "finish line," her burst of speed amazing to watch. He clasped her in a great sweaty embrace and knew at that moment that he could have dropped her to the grass and filled her body. But he did not do that or even kiss her. Instead, with a big smile he slowly unpeeled himself from her hot skin and walked to his bag where he had cold water and a dry towel.

"Let me dry you off."

"In a minute when the breeze has cooled my sweat."

She poured some of the water over her head making her tight curls glisten in the moonlight. She drank deep from the bottle and he shivered to see her thick strong lips around the neck of it and the contractions in her smooth, sweaty throat as the water went down. Then he took the towel and slowly dried her off, her hair, her face, gently patting down her shoulders, smoothing down one arm all the way to the fingers, then the other, drying the glistening groove down the middle of her back, carefully wiping under each breast, down the sexy valley that ended just above her furry triangle, spending a little extra time on the high, round buttocks, stroking each muscular leg, pouring water on each of her feet and cleaning them off. He ignored just one small area, leaving it warm and moist.

Then he helped her on with her clothes, all except her panties, which he kept securely in his pocket.

He could see that she was disappointed, but he said nothing as each opportunity to make love to her was ignored. A tight furrow appeared between her beautifully curved eyebrows.

"Is something the matter?"

"After all that, I thought you...I thought we..."

"No, not yet. I don't think you are ready. But I do have a gift for you, and I fully expect you to wear it from now on, at least until we meet again."

The frown disappeared and was replaced by a small smile.

Casey reached in his pocket and took out what appeared to be a pendant, a silver bead about the size of a ripe pea on a thin black cord. He held it up and the frown reappeared when she saw that there were two cords, not one.

"I don't understand. What is it?"

"Oh, something very special. Just for you. Allow me to put it on you."

She lowered her head so he could slip it around her neck.

"No, no, that's not where it goes. Come over here to the bench. Stand up on it please. That's good. Now place your foot here."

He opened one loop of the cord and she stepped into it.

"Now place your other foot here."

She stepped into the other one.

"Now lift your skirt please."

She hesitated.

"What is this weirdness?"

"Trust me. I think this is something you will like."

She raised the raspberry fabric just below her mons.

"Higher, please. To your waist."

He gently lifted the two cords up her legs until they looped like an almost invisible thong around her buttocks. He carefully positioned the silver bead between her slightly puffy lips just under her clit.

"There, I think that will do it." He placed a gentle kiss on her belly just below her "outie" and carefully lowered her dress again. "Is that comfortable?"

Her eyes were strangely liquid and a bit wide.

"Well, not exactly, but..."

"You may get used to it, and then again, you may not. The bead is a high grade stainless steel, so it should not irritate your skin. Please wear it all the time.

"All the time? I need to wash. I need to pee and crap. I need to work out and compete."

"All the time, if possible, and especially when you work out and compete. Shall we go?"

"My underwear?"

"No. I'll keep those."

"Then I should get to keep yours."

"OK. He unzipped his fly.

"Nevermind."

He helped her down from the bench and they left the stadium. He stopped as they entered the light outside.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you one thing, the bead is a tiny vibrator. It can only be activated by this."

Out of his pocket he took a small lozenge shaped red plastic device cradled in her lavender panties.

"It is a very powerful little bluetooth device. Transmits over a hundred yards, maybe more." He put it back in his coat pocket.

As they got in his car she asked, "Aren't you going to...test it?"

"Not necessary. It's foolproof. But I may activate it at any time. Don't ask me. I won't tell you."

They had a very pleasant dinner at an oriental fusion restaurant, drank an expensive chardonnay, kept the conversation light, mostly about sports teams and the rigors of travel on the professional track circuit.

But once, just before a dessert of strawberry short cake, he put his hand in his pocket. Her nostrils flared and a fine sheen of perspiration appeared on her upper lip. She snatched her napkin, which disappeared below the table. For a moment she sat with her eyes squeezed tight shut her breath short and hard. Finally she gave a sigh that caught the attention of a woman at the next table. When she opened her eyes they were wet.

She hissed, with a smile, "You bastard. Now I have to go to the ladies room. I hope I didn't ruin my dress."

She stood, a bit shaky.

"Any spots?"

"Nothing that couldn't be anything."

When she returned he had ordered a fine port to go with dessert.

"Please turn that thing off!" She whispered. I had another one in the bathroom. A good thing I was on the pot. Some old woman thought I was sick. She offered me her Pepto Bismol tablets."

He dropped her off at her car after dinner, giving her a sweet kiss on the forehead. That wasn't enough for her. She grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him on the mouth pushing a snaky tongue between his lips and pressing her hips hard against him, pinning him to the car. Casey could have taken her right then on the hood, but, though his balls ached, he stuck with his plan.

"You go home and get a good night's sleep. I know you have a meet at the end of the week and so I think it would be better if we don't have another "lesson" until after that. But please wear my gift, and know that I'm nearby."

She bit her lip, clearly disappointed.

"Maybe you are right about the meet. And sure, I'll wear the fucking thing. What harm could it do?"

For the next few days he attended her workouts, though he did not speak to her. But he made it a point to wave with just a bit of the lavender panties visible in his hand. One time when she was doing her leg stretches on the infield he saw her start breathing heavily and just fall back onto the grass. When she got up again she grinned and pointed at him and wagged her finger.

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