“Ahhh,” I scream out as I seize up. Then for the first time in my life, I squirt. He’s right there lapping it up.
“That’s it. That’s my girl. Give me all that sweet honey.” He sucks my clit again, never letting up as his fingers drag over that same spot over and over again. “Mmmm, you taste so good,” he finally says, letting up when I get too sensitive.
“That’s …I’ve never … oh my god,” I cover my face in both overwhelm and embarrassment. I’ve heard of it happening to other people, but it’s never happened to me. It feels like I just peed all over him. Oh my god, what if I did? This is so fucking embarrassing.
“Hey,” he pulls my hands from my face. “I fucking loved it. We’re going to do that again for sure.”
“Really? You liked that?” My self-consciousness is creeping in again. I can’t help it. My mind works overtime, especially after sex. With Chase, I finally feel like I can let go and just feel in the moment, but then afterwards, all my doubts and insecurities come crashing back in. He’s got to be annoyed that I do this every time.
“Fucking. Loved. It.” His mouth and chin are still covered in my release as he punctuates each word. “You look so hot lying there with my jersey still on, flushed from three orgasms, with my cum all over you. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Here.” He runs his fingers through his cum and brings it to my mouth. “Taste me.” I suck his fingers greedily. The same fingers that were just inside me and are now covered in him. “You like that, don’t you?”
“Mmm,” I moan as he feeds me more, and I take it happily.
“Exactly. We taste good together. I want to be covered in it. I want everything your body will give me. And you squirting? Highlight of my fucking life, Princess. You’ll be doing that again.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re mine, right?” He kisses me softly. Not only talking about my pussy anymore.
“Yours.” I smile, affirming what we both know. There’s no turning back from this.
“Damn, right. And in the meantime, I’ll be wearing this tonight.” He leans forward and wipes his face on the inside of his jersey near the collar.
“Chase that’s gross!” I cannot believe he just did that. “What if I wanted to wear it tonight?”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” His eyebrows shoot up at the same time as a wide smile crosses his face.
“I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe it’s time,” I say, pushing him off me so I can stand. This counter isn’t comfortable now that we aren’t getting it on.
“It’s definitely time, but I like the idea of smelling you while playing my game, remembering how you looked this morning taking my cock and my tongue with my name firmly on your back.”
“You sound a little possessive about this name-on-my-back thing. You can’t even see it.”
“Oh, I did for a minute when I walked in here and it’s burned into my memory forever.” He helps me stand, making sure my legs don’t give out. “Let’s take a shower. I’ll watch as you walk away and see if that changes anything.”
I roll my eyes but start walking toward the bedroom. When Idon’t hear him following me, I stop and look back over my shoulder at him. His eyes are locked on my back.
“Definitely possessive. Abso-fucking-lutely possessive.” He growls and chases after me.
Today’s my annual gynecological exam. I didn’t tell Chase about it because this morning was perfect. The distraction I needed, but now that I’m at the doctor’s office, the fear is creeping back in.
“You know the drill—undress and put the gown on, open in the front. She’ll be in soon,” the nurse says before leaving the small exam room. I follow the nurse’s instructions, undressing and placing my clothes neatly on the chair before pulling on the pink gown and tying it around me. My anxiety is notching higher and higher through each movement, though I try to be methodical and disassociate as much as possible.
Everything will be fine. It’s a regular exam. I’ll climb on the scratchy paper, wait for the doctor, let her probe and prod me for about fifteen minutes, and then I will be walking out of here and back to the office. Back to work and not back here through this torture for at least another year.
The paper crunches underneath me when I sit on top of the table. It’s cool beneath my thighs and the draft from the vents cause goosebumps to rise on my forearms. Wrapping my arms tightly around my midsection, I settle onto the table to wait. The pictures on the walls cover everything from preventative sex education to transmitted diseases to vaginal dryness. The stages of pregnancy cover an entire section of the wall. I read over it allwhile I wait. Then I check my email because I feel guilty about being out of the office for this visit. Things aren’t as toxic now that Mark is gone, but taking over as the interim GC has been a stressful adjustment. Once I run out of things to read, I’m no less stressed and decide to lay back to close my eyes. I focus on each inhale and exhale to calm my mind. All the while the paper crinkles under me, getting more uncomfortable by the second.
Eventually, the door opens and the doctor breezes in without a care in the world. “Hi, Gabby. Sorry to keep you waiting. I had a call from the hospital I needed to take.”
“No worries,” I assure her, though all I feel are worries.
“How have you been feeling? Any changes or anything we need to discuss?”
“Nope, all good. Just a routine checkup,” I say, hopefully.
“Alright, great.” She pulls the stirrups out of the table and positions them for my legs. “Feet in and scoot all the way down the table.” I do as she instructed and maneuver my butt to the edge of the table after putting my feet in the stirrups. The invasiveness of this position always makes me uncomfortable. Here I am spread open and exposed for a woman I don’t know outside of these four walls—thank god for that, to be honest—while she pokes around to make sure everything looks good. I mean, who came up with this? It’s a pain in the ass being a woman.
“How’s work?” she asks, trying to make small talk like she isn’t about to jab me with the speculum and crank it open.
