His strong hands move tenderly down my body and settle on the front of my pants.
He pops open the button and pulls down the zipper, and I move my hips side to side to encourage my pants to fall.
In nothing but my customary thong now, I give him a quick peck on the lips and grab his cock.
“You’re coming with me,” I tell him, and lead him by the shaft into my bedroom.
I didn’t make my bed this morning, but that couldn’t matter less as I guide him forward until he’s standing, facing me with his back to the mattress.
It only takes a moderate push for him to fall backward, and before he has a chance to bounce, I’m on top of him, running myself over him, feeling his throbbing member against my clit and over my silent lips.
“If you’d be so kind as to reach into the nightstand and open the box of condoms inside, we can get right to work,” I tell him.
“Work?” he asks with a chortle.
“I have high expectations for you. Doctors are supposed to know everything about physiology, right?”
“I don’t know if we know everything.”
“Well, let’s hope you know enough,” I tell him. “Otherwise, don’t think I’m above kicking your ass to the curb wearing nothing but a frown.”
“Sure,” he says, reaching for the condoms in the nightstand, “no pressure there.”
Despite his words, he doesn’t seem too worried about it as he pu
lls out the box, opens it, and hands me the condom, half a smile on his face as if he knows something I don’t know.
“What?” I ask, taking the condom from him and opening the wrapper.
“Nothing,” he says. “How are you doing over there?”
I raise an eyebrow and put the reservoir tip in my mouth, making sure not to get my teeth anywhere near the latex in the process. He slides up the mattress a little, giving me better access to bend down and put the condom over him with my mouth.
I can’t get it all the way over him — he is a bit bigger than what I’ve had in the past — but it only takes a moment to work it the rest of the way down with my hand.
Now, I’m climbing back over him, guiding his cock toward my entrance, and just as soon as his tip is inside me, I stop.
“You know what I think?” I ask, leaning forward so I can rest my head on my elbow, my elbow on his chest.
“What’s that?” he asks with a thick rush of air.
“I think you’re nervous,” I tell him. “You shouldn’t be.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, it has been a while for me, so who knows? Maybe it won’t matter if you’re good or not. I probably won’t be able to tell the difference.”
“Why do I get the feeling that you’re fucking with me?”
“Because I am,” I tell him. “I’m trying to undermine your confidence so you’ll work that much harder to give me the kind of earsplitting, mind-blowing, face melting orgasm we both know I deserve.”
“You have some really strange dirty talk,” he says, lifting his hips and, as a result, putting himself a little further into me.
“Eager, are we?” I ask.
“A little bit,” he says.
“Good,” I tell him. “Blow your load before I’ve had a chance to quiver like a dying fish and I’ll kick your ass.”