Anthony and Ava

He squired a generous amount of gel onto the wand tip and ran it up from the lower edge of her ribcage, which generated the reaction he thought it might—it was tough to resist a squirm from a touch on that sensitive skin.

"Ava, you need to hold still for me." He leaned closely over her—her smell noticeable and sensual, and guessed that she was aware of him as well—and secured her arms with his own, pinning her to the table. There was a sharp intake of her breath as he held her, and then her hips tightened and flexed. His face was only inches from the smooth skin of her breast, taut and protruding towards him, nipple erect.

"There's one more thing," he said as he held her pinned. "I will need to adjust the position of your breast with my hand. I need you to give me permission for that."

Ava swallowed. "Okay," she said softly.

"I need you to say the full sentence, for our lab protocol."

There was a pause as she thought. "I agree you can use your hand to touch me. To touch my breast."

"Thank you. Breath normally, and take a deep breath when I say."

He released her arms and put the back of one hand against her breast, pushing up towards her midline, while he pressed the wand into her flesh with the other hand. He snapped a few ultrasound pictures.

Then he shifted his hand under her breast, violating lab protocol by using his palm instead the back of his hand to push upwards on her. His fingers touched down on her nipple and he got a few more good pictures aimed down to her heart from the underside of her breast. He manipulated her flesh left and right, palpating into it, letting his fingers scrape across her nipple as he did this.

She made another soft sound and he saw her hips gyrate. Her nipple was now hard as could be under his touch.

"Hold still, please," he commanded. He took a few more pictures with the wand.

There was one more thing to make this perfect. He was already well past the respectable zone, and he had thrown in all caution in favor of his carnal desires. What more could it hurt?

"We're almost done. Wait right there. You can breathe normally." He ran over to the cabinet, hoping she wouldn't move. Where was that thing? Ricardo was bragging about using it on a girl just recently. In the last drawer he found it, stuffed in the bottom: a bolster, like a firm pillow with one side flat and the other curved. He returned quickly to her side, almost tripping over a dangling treadmill cord in his eagerness. Jesus Christ, I've got to relax, he thought.

She was breathing heavily with her lips in a pout and making small movements with her hips, grinding her thighs together very slightly against each other. His eyebrows went up. What was she doing, was she getting turned on? Did he start this by massaging her tits so much?

"Sit up for me now." His arm went behind her to support her movement while he positioned the bolster on the table. "Yes, that's it. And this goes on the table, under your back, like that. Lean back now."

She started lowering to the table but hit the bolster half way down. "That's right, just lie down over it," Anthony encouraged. It was uncomfortable, and she stopped again, unsure how to move her body around this thing that was in her way.

"I don't know . . ." she said meekly, while trying to hold her shoulders and arms up off the table, defensively, around her chest. Her abs were tight like she was holding a crunch in a workout class.

"You're doing fine," he said as he leaned over her, putting one arm on each side of her chest.

"First we'll open this," and he flipped her gown, exposing her beautiful breasts again. "Then you go down like this," and he pushed her shoulders down to the table, overcoming her resistance, molding her torso in an arch over the bolster.

He stepped back to look. Beautiful. The poor girl was mounted awkwardly lying on her back, her tits sticking up wildly towards the ceiling. Her lips were trembling; even with her eyes masked she must have known she was spread out for him on display. A bead of sweat ran down from her temple.

He took a few more shots to finish out the subcostal view, up from the lower end of the rib cage, checking the screen to see that they came out well. His official work was done and in any regular exam he'd have left the room at this point. But he couldn't resist her beauty.

She lay there breathing quietly, light marks of perspiration on her face and the skin of her breasts flushed pink. He swung over her, so that his face was close to hers, and slid an arm under her back.

"Up you go now. Good." When she sat up he slid the bolster out and let it fall to the floor. Then he lowered her to a fully prone position, pinning her arms to the exam table. She hadn't made an attempt to remove her eye mask. He was close enough to smell her. His chest was only inches from her breast; he yearned so badly to have this girl.

"I used a lot of gel; I will remove it now."

She nodded in response.

Very carefully he wiped down her chest, starting from the sides and her pants line, moving across her abdomen and then up to circle her breasts. When he caressed her nipples she emitted a small moan and her hips twisted. It seemed like she was fighting the urge to grind her thighs on her pussy, she stretched her legs and contracted her buttocks. He finished with her neck and shoulders and put his face down near hers again.

"That's the end of the required procedure. You did very well." He pushed further.

"Ava, there's an optional procedure I'd like to perform . . ." he waited for any kind of reaction. She was still flexing her hips every few seconds. He couldn't read the expression on her face but she seemed calm. He didn't want to proceed without some kind of indication from her, but he thought she was taking forever. Her cheeks filled with air while she deliberated, and he tried unsuccessfully to guess what she was thinking.

Then she came to a decision.

"Do it."

As soon as she said it, the motion of her pelvis resumed, this time in a broader circle, and it didn't betray any shyness or hesitation. She wasn't hiding it, or embarrassed about it. It was smooth, confident, and hella sexy; she seemed calm and not in a rush.

But my God, he thought, now it was his turn to be stunned and completely without a plan. He had no playbook for this. He'd heard Ricardo brag about using the bolster or grabbing a woman's tit, but he had never known things to progress to this level in the exam room.

"Ava, you're going to have to help me with this one," he started. "Let's take your arms," and he gently pulled one of her hands and carefully positioned it around her breast, making a little triangle sticking out from her body with her upper arm, elbow and forearm. "And let's do the same over here," he repeated for the other side. She followed his movements without opposition, and he got up some courage.

"Now, you have to obey my command. Put some pressure down, like that," and he put his hands on top of hers and gently pushed downwards. Her hands were warm and her fingers slender; nails were manicured and polished a glossy dark red, and the sensual way she splayed her fingers across her breast was like an erotic art photograph. Anthony pushed down on her hands together to flatten her breasts.

"That's good. Now, I'll need a slow rhythm, like this." He pushed down, and released, every few seconds. On the down stroke, her breasts gently touched and then bulged together to form a line at the seam. Oh my God, as he felt his own bulge in his pants, he could have easily have taken himself to the end of the line right then, just watching this action in front of him. She thrust one leg down as far as it could go with the other knee up, then alternated, in an attempt to generate some friction at her pussy.

What should he do next? How to take her up a level, what would she want? The grinding of her thighs was an unavoidable hint, so he ran the palm of his hand down from her breasts across her stomach and over her leggings. They were thin, and tight, and already there was wetness coming through her panties so that he could make out the small bumps of her labia. He shook his head as he watched. This was some kind of dream, maybe.

As he put his hand gently onto her pants, her back and forth grinding increased and changed direction to push up against his hand. On every push up now she moaned quietly and continued thrusting her breasts flat against her chest. She hadn't changed the position of her hands, so on every push down her nipples were pinched and protruded up through the gap, making the most beautiful and sexual pink bumps.

"Ava, you must come for me now."

She stopped all movement. Shit! He must have startled her by asking for too much. He pulled his hand back from her pants, still touching but applying less pressure. The situation was on a knife edge. Was she going to pull off her mask and give him hell? The hell he deserved, he had to admit. He'd never taken these kinds of liberties before.

Then he saw it, a small grind of her hips again. He pushed down onto her pussy through those damp leggings, and she responded by pushing up against his hand again. In a moment the pressure was the same as before, then greater.

"Good girl. You need to have an orgasm." She moaned softly now, and he increased his pressure on her groin, feeling more details of her pussy lips with his fingers. His other hand went on top of hers, mashing her breasts down.

He had found that some women were like freight trains in sex. It took time to get them going, but then they were hard to stop. The Ava freight train was picking up steam. Her hands started mauling her own breasts now, more than he had done during the exam, and she squeezed tightly with her fingers around her nipples on every push.

He thought they went steadily like that for a minute, maybe? It was hard to tell time. But then he started to feel the tension plateauing, maybe even a little bit of a let off. He had to make sure she pushed through it. How conservative was this girl, did she even masturbate regularly? Maybe having an orgasm on demand was going to be hard for her.

"Ava, listen carefully." Her gyrations slowed in response, but she kept moving. "When I count to three, take a deep breath, and then you must lie perfectly still."

She moved gently and breathed in preparation while he counted "1 . . . 2 . . . 3," then she snapped her lips shut and her body stopped all movement.

"Good girl, that's perfect. Now stay absolutely still."

He put his hands on hers, lifting them to open up her chest. Her tits had red marks where she had pushed against them; her nipples were hard and flushed deep pink. He lowered his face and let his lips come closer and closer, holding her arms to the table beside her. She moaned in a plea, then he opened his mouth to take in her breast. He sucked deeply.

She twitched her legs. He pulled his mouth off her tit and said, "Stay still!" She stopped moving again and he moved down for a long suck on her other nipple.

"Good. Now you can breathe." He positioned her hands back over her breasts again. "Go,' he said.

It was like letting a tiger out of its cage. If she had reached a plateau earlier, she blew right through it now. The Ava freight train was going 100 miles per hour. Her body was grinding, shaking the table. Women had such deep sexual capability once it was brought to the surface, but he wondered why she hadn't come yet; he was already in danger himself and he hadn't even touched his own groin.

She vocalized audibly now on every twist, starting to repeat "Oh God" It wasn't loud enough for someone in the hallway to hear, but he was in a sort of state of shock at her behavior and hoped that she wouldn't begin yelling. His fingers probed across her leggings, over the bumps of her labia and into the seam of her vagina, pushing inside. My God this was a sexual woman. She was going full steam, but not getting all the way there. What the hell could he do to push her over the edge?

"You need to climax for me." he said sternly. There was no reaction. She was on her own schedule. 110 miles per hour.

"Ava, you need to climax for me," even more sternly. 120 miles per hour. he waited a few more pushes. He put more pressure through the pants fabric. She pushed back, hard. 130 miles per hour.

"Ava, you must climax for me," he repeated. He shook his own head to clear a drop of sweat on his brow, and his long hair fell down around her.

"Oh, God" she said more loudly and clearly, and then another "Oh, God!"

"NOW" he insisted loudly, and pressed and ground her pelvis tight against the table with his whole hand. He even swung some of his body weight onto her through that arm.

"God, I can't . . . do this!" The Ava freight train at 200 miles per hour was reached! Her body arched up off the table and she tightened her hold on her breasts. She held the position for a few seconds. Then she started shaking all over and let herself fall flat on her back.

"Oh, God" she said quietly, as she let out her breath.

He kept the pressure on her for a moment, then stood up and reluctantly released his touch on her pants and chest.

Wow.

He looked longingly at her beautiful form on the table. Her arms splayed wide, palms up, in exhaustion. Her breasts were flushed red, either from all the manipulation or the release of her orgasm, he couldn't tell. Her pants were soaked at her crotch. His mind was blown, associating this sexual dynamo with the shy girl he hardly knew, brought from the waiting room less than an hour ago.

*****

Ava

Ava lay prone on the table, in a daze, while Anthony put his equipment back in order, the dangling black cables back onto their posts and the ultrasound computer reset. As he turned and walked slowly to the door, Ava was still trembling on the bed, her hand over her groin and breasts, watching him. He approached the door and reached for the handle.

She had different, conflicting thoughts at that moment. It hadn't all made sense to her yet, both his behavior and her own response to it. But she didn't think it was right for this to be over. Something was missing.

"Wait."

He stopped and turned to look back at her, eyebrows up in curiosity. His face didn't give away any obvious emotions but he seemed to be in some amount of internal turmoil as well.

"Come back over here," she said. He didn't move and she realized it had come off stronger than she intended, too much like a command. She tried again with, "Can you come back over here, next to me, please?"

He shuffled slowly back, looking at the floor. He paused, then started, "Ava—"

She interrupted him with her hand outstretched, sitting up on the table. "My turn. Just wait a minute. I need to think."

He waited. She was trying to sort out her own thoughts, her own very personal reaction to the very personal events that had just happened in this room. With this man. Because of this man. She gathered her gown together around her so she could face him equally clothed, or at least almost equally.

"This was not ordinary. Right? This isn't something that just happens all the time?"

He looked up, surprised, and maybe hurt. "No, my God, Ava. I've never done that before."

"I want you to stand there. I want to look at you."

He seemed unsure of this. "Okay . . ." he said quietly. She looked him over, head to toes, and remarked again what a specimen of man he was. But something wasn't right. He was standing there in front of her, looking back at her confidently. This room was still his domain. She needed something else, a way to finish this experience the right way while she had the chance.

"Show me your stomach," she said. His look of surprise and her positive gut reaction to it told her this was the direction she was looking for. "Come on, I want to see your stomach."

"Ava, this is an exam room for patients." He looked at the door, panic coming into his face. He stammered, "If anyone walks in here and sees me pulling my shirt up . . . I don't know what I'll say."

That made her mad. She could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks. "What do you think happened in here just now? Or do you not remember what you did to me? What if somebody had walked in on that?"

"I know . . . that was— . . . I'm sorry."

"Anthony. What you did was very inappropriate. I think it's time for a little payback, now."

He still hesitated, unconvinced. This was the most assertive she had been in her life, but her confidence was growing by the moment and for once she didn't doubt herself. "Pull your shirt up. Actually, I want to see more. I'm going to ask you to pull your pants down, too."

"Ava, Jesus!" It was turning to panic now. He pleaded with his eyes.

"Anthony, you don't appreciate how serious this is. You should be fired for what you did to me. I could probably sue you. So you have no choice but to do exactly as I say."

"Fuck," he muttered, looking left and right in resignation, then reaching down to unbutton his shirt. Ava watched him. She'd had an orgasm in front of this man moments before, caused by this man, and it put her in a curious calm. One hand went to her own crotch to put pressure on her groin through her leggings while she watched him fumble with his shirt. A bead of sweat ran down his cheek as he pulled his shirt up and exposed his stomach for her. She noticed that he sucked it in as much as possible—it was an instinctive reaction to being exposed in front of a beautiful woman. She was pleased.

"Closer."

He moved towards the exam table so that she could reach out a hand and touch his abs. He was lean but the musculature was well defined. She traced the ridges horizontally with her fingers, in from the sides to the middle, then laid her palm flat onto the center, moving it in a bigger circle, feeling carefully as she went. This was a first—she had never touched a man like this before and it was intriguing. The flesh was so hard and firm, yet smooth. Was this normal or was he just athletic?

When he felt her touch, a curious thing happened. He felt the touch of love. It reminded him of the touch by his mother when he was younger. Not in a strange way that brought weird or conflicting feelings, but in an inclusive, nurturing way. The pressure was slight, and her movement gentle across his skin. It also was starting to turn him on, this gorgeous woman caressing him in his own exam room. Damn, he could feel himself getting an erection. We can't do this here, he thought; but it will be great for another time in private. The way she was behaving here, it looked like the adventure had been a success, and maybe that evening out with a gorgeous girl was in his future. He lowered his shirt over her outstretched hand and prepared to wrap this up.

Ava had other ideas. The hand on her pussy increased its pressure and it felt good. It was as if she had saved up all the repressed sexual energy from the past few years and now it was bursting to get out, and there was still a stirring down there from the memory of his touch moments ago. This was an opportunity. She had a one-free-pass card; she had paid for it and she intended to use it.

"Mister Anthony. You aren't near done yet. Pants down now."

"But Ava, we have to . . . I have to, I have another appointment." He was stammering again.

"Drop your pants for me."

"Ava . . ." he laughed nervously and then went quiet. "Oh my God, you're really serious?"

She sat up on the exam table and looked him in the eyes. "I am serious. Look, you did something . . ." she was tempted to say bad, illegal, immoral, wrong; but simply said, ". . . inappropriate. I want you to remember this. I want you to learn what it feels like to be on the other side of an examination. I am going to inspect you. Now drop those pants for me."

He realized he was fucked. If she reported anything of what he had done, not only this job but his career would be gone, and he'd be back to working one of those shit jobs. He did not want that. Badly. On the other hand, getting inspected by a gorgeous woman wasn't the worst thing in the world, either. He looked at the closed door to the room, thinking of someone walking in on them, but he had no choice. He gave in, smiled, and unfastened his belt to pull his pants down. "Okay Ava, you win. Jesus."