Liaisons Read online

  Branden is nodding over and over again as if I am spewing the Gospel and he’s gripping me so hard it hurts. ‘I am. I am really, really good, Doctor. Good. Good, good, good … Doctor Martin, I … Ohhh.’

  ‘Please call me Karen,’ I laugh. ‘And please come before you explode.’ And that sneaky little instinctive fuck bends and bites my nipple through my blouse. It is a sharp fast white pain that drags me into an orgasm that dims my vision. ‘Oh, Branden. You are a clever boy.’

  I am bucking my hips. I am mindless. I am an animal. He is panting in my ear and together we are both a little wild and a little less than human.

  He unclenches his fingers and stares at me, his eyes wide and realisation sinking in. He just fucked the doctor. Now what? What will happen? I’m still straddling his naked lap, his cock softening deep inside me. My pulse is slamming in my throat and chest and pussy. I clench up around him and his eyes roll back a little. I straighten his tie and kiss him for the first time ever. ‘I like you. Come back next Wednesday.’

  ‘Can I bring you something, Doc?’ There is a sudden and unmistakable glint of mischief in his gaze. Big, big blue eyes and sharp high cheekbones, all topped off by a boyish grin.

  I never ever take gifts. From reps or patients or other physicians. Never. It is part of my own code of ethics. But I’m intrigued. ‘I’ll make an exception,’ I say. ‘But just for you and just this once.’

  He nods, looking excited and pleased. And then Branden and I are a flurry of zippers and skirts and swishing fabric as we reassemble our professional selves, leaving our baser selves in our memories for the time being. He pulls me in, startling me, and kisses me hard. It is a long, demanding kiss of a much more aggressive man than the one I just fucked. It rattles me a little. Was I really in charge? ‘See you soon, Doc,’ he says against my mouth and turns to leave.

  ‘Oh, Branden?’ I sing-song.

  ‘Yeah?’ He is halfway out the door, still glowing from the sex. I smile at him. ‘Leave your samples on the table right outside the door.’

  ‘Got it.’ And then he is gone and my pussy is thumping. Greedy for more. Wishing I could have him again. I’ll have to take care of things when I get home.

  I make the boring (this time) walk down the hall and open the door. I consult my clipboard. ‘Ah, Mr Storm. Albert Storm.’

  Mr Storm stands up and with a look of near-jubilation, follows me back to tell me about his boil.

  ‘Ah, there she is. You must be such a whore for the free stuff.’

  I start for a minute and then see that Doug is kidding. And by ‘free stuff’ he does not mean sex. He means samples. My loving husband thinks that I love Wednesdays because I get free sticky notes, pens and coffee mugs. I let him think that. It’s better this way.

  ‘Oh, I’m just a whore in general,’ I say, stirring my vegetables. I have stirred them approximately three hundred times in the past five minutes. My mind is not a thousand miles away. My mind is in my office, straddling Branden the new pharmaceuticals rep and fucking him dry. Fucking him and biting him and listening to him ramble like he’s caught in a fever dream.

  My nipples are hard, my body warm and ready to be fucked all over again. I have not had a shower and, God help me, when my husband comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, I nearly come. I can tell by the way his hands splay over my skin and his fingertips trace the low waistband of my leggings that he wants to get laid. It’s warm in the kitchen, but when his lips touch the spot between my shoulder blades above the lace of my tank top, it’s downright hot.

  ‘Doug, let’s eat. Let me take a shower.’ See me trying to be the good guy? Let me clean up. I still smell like man. I still smell like sex. Sex that did not involve man and wife but doctor and boy. Pretty boys with free samples and stars in their eyes.

  ‘How about we put that on the back burner and we do this first. No shower. You’re dirty. I like you dirty.’ He moves the wok off the flame and pushes me against the oven. My hands spread wide on the turquoise enamel to steady myself. Doug pushes my legs apart like he’s at work and he’s frisking me. He slides his hands up the inside of my leggings and I feel that steady beat in my cunt increase. He’s so close to touching me and being right where another man’s cock was a few hours before. And he has no idea.

  My face floods with heat as I blush at my own taboo arousal. I moan and he laughs and the kitchen is that much hotter. This is not the first time I have let my husband take me on a Wednesday. More than once I’ve wondered if I give off some odour or pheromone or vibe that is calling him in. I’m ripe. I’m ready. I want it. Fuck me.

  My professional hairdo has been scrapped for my evening ponytail. I hang my head down and my ponytail sways, brushing over the oven top. I sigh as his hand finds me, touches me and his fingers slide along the seam of my pussy. The thin cotton spandex leggings offer very little defence against his excitement. ‘Christ, baby, you are so wet. Your pants are soaked. You want this. Don’t you? You’re such a slut.’

  My husband would never call me names normally. But he knows me. In this context, so close to penetration, the worse things he says, the more I like it. I am a complex woman.

  ‘I am,’ I say and, in my mind, I have pretty Branden between my thighs, eating me. I see the dark top of his head. His broad shoulders. I can feel his tongue on me and hear the noises of his lips on my pussy.

  ‘Say it,’ Doug says.

  ‘I am a slut,’ I gasp and he shoves his hands into my workout pants. He pushes his big thick fingers inside me and I grip the oven like I might fall down. ‘I am a filthy cunt,’ I say again. He fucks me with his fingers and the kitchen grows warmer still.

  ‘I think there’s enough juice for two dicks in you,’ he laughs in my ear and I moan. Now in my mind there are two. There is pretty new Branden and I am on top. There is handsome faithful Doug and he’s behind me. One in the cunt. One in the ass. I can’t breathe.

  I should feel guilty. I feel excited.

  Doug shoves my leggings down. He drops to his knees, bites my ass. Hard, the way I like it. Until I make a noise of pain and my hip bone bangs the oven door painfully hard. I see stars and I skate along that paper edge of coming. ‘God,’ I say.

  ‘God has turned his head for the moment,’ Doug teases and licks down between my cheeks. He pushes his fingers deeper, deeper and I can smell myself. I imagine I can smell the scent of me and Branden, but my husband seems just fine. ‘Come for me, Karen. If you don’t come for me, I won’t fuck you. And I want to fuck you. Hard and fast. Dirty little slut.’

  I come for him.

  At the office, I am all orders and demands. Drill-sergeant barks and pushing Branden’s buttons. Here, in my cosy, yellow kitchen, I am more placid, docile, soft like pulled taffy.

  ‘Bend over,’ says Doug and I bend.

  He moves me to the counter, positions me like a doll and pins my wrists behind my back. He pushes his big leg between my knees and spreads my stance. Doug is a cop and he’s treating me roughly, like a criminal. I hear his zipper and he squeezes me just a bit too hard with his hand. My wrist bones grind together and I let out a sigh of pain. I like the pain and he knows it. I rest my forehead against the cool marble and I can feel my pulse in my forehead. The head of his cock pushes at me, forces in me and I still. I can hear my blood in my ears.

  Maybe I like his roughness because I am paying my dues. Paying my penance. I nod when my husband slides into me roughly, banging me from behind so hard that my hips are wrapping against the lip of the counter. ‘What are you nodding at? What are you thinking? That you’re a complete slut?’

  I nod again and he grips me harder. His fingers are biting my skin, pushing against flesh that has already been gripped by another man. His cock is hitting places that have already been hit. He is fucking a pussy that has already been fucked. It is almost like having two men in me at once and I feel my body grow tight around him.

  ‘God, you are so tight,’ he moans and pushes his hands against my shoulder
s. Holding me flat and pinning me down and fucking me faster. I can smell hot oil from the wok and hear the faucet dripping and I remember the feel of Branden’s teeth on my nipple when he bit me. A gentle purple bruise has sprung up over the rose-coloured disc. A nipple that is now mashed flat against cool grey marble.

  A stinging smack snaps against my ass and I gasp. Heat floods that place and I feel the tingling burn of a welt rising up. My cunt flexes again and when that happens, Doug smacks the other side. I like it when he hits me. ‘Whore,’ he says. And I come again.

  Dinner is decent. We didn’t ruin it. After wine, I take a shower. I am hesitant to wash the two men off of me, but I do. And I start the countdown of my days at midnight. Thursday, Friday, Saturday will pass. On Sunday we will be busy with a christening and the afterparty. Monday I start my work week. Tuesday I will grow antsy and be snappy at my staff. I will tell a handful of patients they are obese and not be kind about it. Wednesday morning, I will be glowing and smiling and ready.

  ‘Good night, love,’ Doug says to me when I turn the lights out. He pulls me in and holds me tight. All of his aggression left behind. For the act of sex, for fucking. When it comes to man and wife stuff, he is my caretaker, he is gentle and kind. I fall asleep, extremely peaceful.

  ‘Doctor?’

  I glance up at my assistant, Cheryl; she looks unsure. I’m busy and a bit grumpy. The only thing getting me through the day is that tomorrow is Wednesday. ‘What is it?’ I try to temper my voice because Cheryl is skittish and sensitive.

  ‘There’s a young man out front. His name is …’ She glances at a business card. ‘Branden Johnson. He said he can’t come tomorrow. The normal rep day?’ She says this as if she is asking me a question and it makes me nuts. But I cannot fixate on my pet peeve because my heart is racing and my body has been thrown into chaos.

  ‘Oh.’

  Cheryl blinks at me. She is unused to me being tongue-tied. ‘So, he asked if I would ask you if he could possibly have a few minutes of your time today.’ On her cheeks are two flaming spots. She looks so nervous she could pee her pants and suddenly this is highly amusing to me. My mood has shifted.

  ‘Of course. Show him back. I’ll just finish this up.’ I am trying so hard to seem in control. And I’m sure I appear to be just that. Only I can feel the flutter in my belly. I press my knees together and it only serves to heighten the lovely feeling in my pussy.

  She is gone in a blink and I fluff my hair. I’m a little bit nervous and I like that feeling. That jittery anxious feeling is a high like no other. I close my eyes, calling up the feel of him from the week before. The slide of his dick into my depths. The smell of him and the taste of his lips. His dark hair and his big blue eyes. And the dip of his head where he looks boyish and shy.

  A soft knock sounds and I glance up. I smile because there is handsome beautiful Branden. Then I blink and my heart sinks. Behind him is another man. A slightly shorter, thinner blond man. Handsome in a surfer boy way. Probably about my height. Skin and hair kissed by the sun.

  ‘Doctor Martin,’ Brandens says, grinning. ‘This is Tad. I’m training him. I thought you two might like to meet.’

  My heart speeds up again because now I am remembering that Branden asked if he could bring me something. It appears he has brought me something rather lovely. ‘Come on in, gentlemen,’ I say and cross my legs under my desk. The small bit of friction is almost enough to make me come I’m so aroused.

  ‘Tad is a rep in training. He’s a good guy. And I have –’ Branden looks me dead in the eye and says, ‘told him all about you.’

  About me. That makes me light-headed. I’ve told him all about you.

  ‘Oh. OK.’ My voice is soft. Not the dominant boisterous voice from our last meeting. ‘I …’

  Tad steps forwards and shakes my hand. He squeezes my hand a bit too hard and sparkles of excitement run over my skin. ‘Ah, Doctor. See, Branden says you’re a bad ass. A hard case. I told him, “Hey, I bet I could take her.”’ He pulls my hand towards him and I rise. He wants me to stand. So I do. ‘Do you? Do you think I could take you, Doc?’

  He is a surfer. Or an athlete of some kind. The skin of his hands is dried just a bit from the salt water. He is lean but I can tell from his grip that it’s all muscle. There is not a spare ounce of fat on him. I swallow hard and see Branden watching me. Grinning. He is loving this. The good doctor put in her place. My confusion is instantaneous and I can feel the crotch of my silk panties soaked by my own juices. ‘I, um …’

  It is my turn to blush and drop my head. God, I cannot breathe. Tad pulls me harder and I come out from behind my desk. He stoops a bit, sets down his briefcase, runs his hands up my thighs. Today, my legs are bare. The weather has warmed. I shiver, though my office is not cold. I hear Branden lock the door. Tad’s hands go higher and I want to slap him or fuck him, or both at once.

  ‘See, usually under a tough exterior is a woman waiting to be taught a little discipline,’ he says right into my ear. A blanket of goose bumps roll over my skin and my nipples go tight. I swallow again. My throat is full of cotton and my heart is full of fear. I love the fearful feeling. The wondering about the outcome.

  Branden laughs softly and I hear his zipper. Tad hooks my panties with his fingers and drags them down. When they are around my knees he stops, spins me like a dance partner. I go, feeling dizzy but eager. ‘Bend over, Karen,’ he says.

  Not Doctor. Karen.

  He plants me on my desk and I watch the lights flash and dance on my phone. My busy office buzzes around me. Patients come and go and wait and wonder. While this happens a strange man is running his callused palms over my suddenly bare ass while another man watches.

  More fluid leaks from me. My heart jumps abruptly. I clench my cunt around nothing and wish for something to fill me. Something. One of them.

  ‘Maybe she needs a spanking?’ Branden suggests. He sounds hopeful.

  Tad makes a tsking sound like an upset teacher. Maybe he is a teacher. Maybe he is showing Branden how to handle demanding women. ‘No. No, a spanking won’t do. Too loud. We don’t need the staff wondering what’s going on. It’s going to be hard enough to keep her quiet soon anyway.’

  I almost cry. Instead I say, ‘Please. Something. Please.’

  Tad shoves his finger into my pussy almost casually. My body goes haywire, clenching around him as he continues his explanation. ‘I’m thinking a bit of silent pain. You know? Hand me my case.’

  I hear movement and rustling but stay prone on the desk. Spectacular in my subservience. Not in charge but being controlled. Then the pain erupts. Bright wonderful bites of pain along my flanks. Up my spine. Over my shoulder. Tad is whistling while he works. I want to ask what he is using but I bite my tongue and sob softly instead.

  ‘Who knew binder clips could be so pretty?’ Branden says and answers my unspoken question. He steps forwards and his face is level with me. His olive drab slacks right in front of my face. Tad plucks at one of the clips and I writhe on my nice authoritative mahogany desk.

  ‘Go on, try her out.’

  I open my mouth without being asked. How odd and wonderful for Branden to have seen both sides of the coin. The fierce me and the meek me. I suck his cock with a drunken kind of excitement. My head is muddy and slow but I’m hearing another zipper and my pulse is not.

  ‘Such a good, good girl,’ Tad praises. I glow for him. Pleased with myself, embracing my shame. He pushes the head of his cock to my cunt and I do my best not to force myself back onto him like a slut. He stops, his fingers shove into me and then they are gone too. Confusion sweeps through me until he slides into me and his fingers penetrate my ass. Swift and sharp. I moan and take Branden deeper. He’s not shy this week. He fists my hair and fucks my mouth and says some magical words. ‘Dirty cocksucker.’

  I come. It’s as easy as sneezing.

  ‘She is a dirty cocksucker. She just came. Didn’t you, Doc? You just came.’

  The trash talk is a lovel
y soundtrack to the debauchery. It will play in my head for days. They have given me the one thing I have been too timid to seek out.

  ‘Come on around here, man. And you, up with you.’ My new master pulls me up by my wrists, the clips biting my skin as it stretches and moves. My tears are very real but so is my thrill and the pleasure. Tad sinks onto my big chair and yanks me so I straddle him. I watch, transfixed, as his big, red cock disappears into my pussy. He’s long and thick and I watch my body take him in and hide him. The small triangle of hair at my sex is ginger-brown and his is reddish-blond. I am mesmerised. Until he says, ‘She’s pretty worked back there. Go for it.’

  And there it is. Back there. I let my head fall onto Tad’s broad shoulder like I’m praying. Like I’m thankful. Because I am.

  Branden sinks to his knees. Which puts him level with me. His presence behind me, where I am the most vulnerable, is looming. Hulking and dangerous where I sit impaled on Tad’s cock. Tad is thrusting up from under me, his teeth marking my shoulder as he plucks the binder clips one by one. He removes the first and the blood rushes in and I see stars. Branden presses against the stubborn pucker of my anus and I hold my breath.

  The head of Branden’s cock is in and Tad is fucking me from underneath. His upward thrusts tricking my clitoris into a buzzing joy that fills my womb and makes my head feel swimmy. ‘Oh, Jesus,’ I breathe. I clutch the back of the chair like it can save me from my shame and my pleasure. The pinching pain sings up my spine and I let my head roll back. I let my sounds loose. Greedy, eager, ugly, transcendent sounds fill the room and Tad laughs. He covers my mouth with his callused palm and Branden pushes hard and is in. I hiccup, sob, moan.