Scrubs: What Are Friends For?

No, Denise didn't know any of that. Only that fucking Katie had just gotten a lot more fun.

***

Five or six orgasms later, Denise decided to cut Katie some slack. She'd done a lot to earn her A. Bought Homicide on DVD and everything. She pulled out, gave Katie's reddened butt an affectionate rub that caused her even more pain, then got some frozen peas from the freezer and threw them on the bed. Katie gratefully parked herself on them. Denise considered the matter closed.

Katie, meanwhile, thought of how lucky she was to be the lesbian sex slave of such a thoughtful mistress. She had found herself knowing a level of sexual fulfillment she had never suspected existed. From now on, she would always be Denise's. Her girlfriend, her sub, her bottom, forever.

***

The next day, rounds done with, a tired Denise headed for one of the on-call rooms. She quickly cleared it of other sub-doctor scum, then relaxed on the tiny bed. Wished her smartphone was working. She would've loved to check r/sharkattacks for any new videos. Instead, she decided to catch some sleep. Staying up late to sodomize Katie was not good time management.

"Hey, roomie!" Katie cried, slipping into the little cubicle and shutting the door behind her.

"What do you want?"

"Just to thank you for giving me an A."

"Wha? Oh, yeah. You're welcome or whatever. Is that what people are supposed to say?"

Katie didn't answer. Not with words. Suddenly she was on the bed, on Denise, shoving her hands up Denise's scrubs and into her bra cups to cradle Denise's breasts with her hands. "I'm gonna suck your breasts until you come!" she gasped out, squeezing those luscious tits. "Then you can suck mine!"

"Foreplay?" Denise asked. "Jesus!"

Dropping down like a snake, Katie actually wiggled her way up into Denise's top, putting her mouth on one of Denise's breasts and swabbing it with her hot tongue. Denise found herself quickly, irritatingly, growing erect. She pinched her lips together as Katie sucked, piggishly loud, but somehow effective.

Denise rolled her eyes. There was something dudeish about doing it in the on-call room; that was the only reason she went along with it. She was pretty sure even the surgeons had needed to wait until their second week before they found someone dumb enough to fuck them in a roach motel, but she was just that good.

"Okay now, get to fingering me. And don't use just one finger. I haven't got a pencil holder down there."

Katie was quick to obey, tugging on Denise's pants so hard they swooped down her legs, though she tried to shove her head through Denise's neckhole so they could kiss. Thankfully, she gave up around the time she put a second finger in Denise, content to kiss her neck instead.

"Mmm, yeah—this doesn't suck," Denise observed as she wound her legs around Katie, flipping them over and beginning to hump into her, her fingers. She heard Katie gasp—naturally—and fucked harder. Felt Katie panting and whimpering against her chest as she pumped into her.

Then, abruptly, she was on her back, Katie between her legs, mouthing her tit, fingering her slit, a beast at her breast. She let out a long groan—Katie's fingers were delicious, electric, just long enough and curling at just the right place to hit that spot. Not too often and not too hard, but just enough. Denise felt herself swelling wetly, like a balloon under a faucet.

"Oh yes, mistress, oh yes! I hope my pathetic ministrations are enough to make your glorious body come!"

"Yeah, they're not half-bad," Denise confirmed. Katie had her nipple in her jaw and was shaking it, actually hurting Denise a little before she slipped off her sweat-slick skin, spinning Denise over, embracing her from behind. Hand between her legs while her pelvis chugged against Denise's ass. Denise's brow furrowed. Did Katie think she was wearing a strap-on?

Denise's shirt was turned around now. She'd slipped out of one armhole, but the other had twisted around her shoulder, pinning her left arm in place. She couldn't bring herself to try to adjust it. Katie's... thing was actually working for her. She felt a mad tingle between her legs—it felt like she would shake apart, a little earthquake in her pussy. And Katie's fingers kept hitting it, like a trigger being pulled. Bang, bang, bang, bang. Until the gun finally hit its target.

"Motherfucker!" Denise cried, as she squirted so hard, it hit her pants where they were bunched around her ankles. Her body didn't seem to want to stop. It kept going and going, a literal rush concentrated in her sex, one long stroke down her pussy. Until she was finally empty—drained—and her cunt felt slick as an oil spill. How the hell had Katie Collins done that to her? Bitch couldn't even get herself off that well. Denise knew, she'd waited for their shared shower long enough.

"I'm sorry, mistress," Katie apologized hurriedly, shirking out of Denise's shirt. Now it hung across Denise's body, covering one of her arms and one of her breasts, the rest bare all the way to her socks. "I've made you all dirty with my fucking! I'll clean you up! I'll clean you up right now!"

Before Denise could ask why Katie was calling her mistress like a bad episode of Downton Abbey, the little idiot was crouched between her legs, mouth down on Denise's cunt and tongue very far out. She used her hands first, spreading Denise wide with just the tips of her fingers. Her eyes widened at the sight. Then her head ducked down and she was sucking hungrily at Denise's well-used pussy, vacuuming up the last drops of her explosion, licking every part of her clean with the light lapping of her tongue. It was only a fluttering sensation, and a bit pleasant for Denise. She could catch her breath, relax, enjoy some cunnilingus without some dude thinking he was God's gift to feminism.

The door began to open. "Fuck off!" Denise yelled. It closed.

Katie did not appear to have noticed. "This is your pussy!" she enthused.

"Yeah, I know, I've had it long enough."

"No, this pussy, this one too!" Katie jerked her head down to her own pants, where she was frantically masturbating. "Please don't punish me, mistress. I just had to touch myself—had to finger my filthy little place or else I'd die!"

"S'okay." Denise put her hand on Katie's head and redirected it to the proper position in-between her thighs. A little slap to the back of her head for good measure. It worked. Katie stabbed her tongue inside Denise, tongue fucked her for a good few seconds before bodily pulling herself away to lave at Denise's fiery clit. Both felt good, but the interplay made one feel really good, the other feel really, really good.

Then it was gone. Katie's head was up again, hair a mess, falling all around her face. "You have to discipline me if I'm doing a bad job. You have to teach me every vicious lesson there—"

Rearing up, Denise grabbed her by the hair, jerked her head back, and slapped her three times, good and hard. Open-palmed twice, once with the back of her hand. When she was done, Katie's lip was cut and both of her cheeks were blooming red.

"Don't stop licking until I come in your face," Denise gritted out.

Katie quaked a little, enough to disturb Denise. What people wouldn't get off on. But she put her head down and she stayed there.

Denise patted her head before Katie made her come. Just to show there were no hard feelings. Then she crushed Katie's head between her hands and fucked it. Just jammed her sex into it, again and again, using Katie's face as a dildo. She jerked and crooned through her orgasm, felt the pregnant wetness again, the almost unbearable intensity of her build-up, then the exquisite relief of her squirt. It shot into Katie's face, ran down her neck and into her scrubs. Even dotted her name tag. It was beautiful.

At the end, Denise just held Katie's face in her cunt. Katie kept going. Her tongue must've been getting tired, but Katie didn't let it show. She scoured Denise's drenched sex, making it flare up all over again. Denise ran her hands through Katie's damp hair as she ate her out again. This time, she didn't squirt, but it seemed like a near thing.

Then they were done. Denise put her foot on Katie's shoulder and pushed her back, sending her sprawling to the ground. She herself jumped down from the bed, onto her feet, had her pants pulled up and her arms through their holes in a split-second. "We're not dating," she said, standing over the exhausted, bruised, and cum-drenched intern.

"Of course not!" Katie agreed readily. "I'm your bitch!"

"Whatever."

"Feel free to discipline me whenever you want if I do anything else to displease you. I know what a naughty girl I am!"

"Uh-huh. I'll call you." Denise wiped her face off with her sleeve. "I gotta go."

"I ate your potato chips the day before yesterday!" Katie confessed. "Please don't punish me!"

"Okay." Denise dashed out the door. But a second later, Katie was behind her in the doorway.

"You can if you want to!" she shouted after her.

This was why Denise didn't date lesbian bondage enthusiasts. So needy. That, and the leather thing was kind of at odds with her veganism.