I’d slept with Dr. Ivy pretty much every single day from the very first day I had begun work at his practice three years ago. It was just something I did. He was extraordinarily sexy, and he was a high-powered surgeon, very in-demand. Every day, he held people’s lives in his hands, and there’s power in that. I’m not a gold digger, so don’t misunderstand; it was just that he was so incredibly sexy that I couldn’t resist him. More than that, working sixteen or seventeen hours a day, he didn’t really have time to have a relationship. So, on that first day, I had flirted with him. On the second day, when he kissed me, I got down on my knees and sucked his cock. And now, years later, it was still happening.
It was going on four years, so I imagined that we’d fucked each other something in the neighborhood of fifteen hundred times. We were comfortable with one another. So it wasn’t strange that, when I walked into the examination room, he didn’t even say hello. Instead, he grabbed me by the hips, bent me over, wrenched down the bottoms of my scrubs—taking my panties with them—and wordlessly slammed into me. It was incredible. I loved the quickies. We’d had all kinds of different sex: I’d been on top, I’d been on the bottom, I’d sucked his cock. It had been rough, and it had been sweet. But, strangely, what I loved the most was these quickies, when he bent me over and took me like a man on a mission. Even though they usually only lasted six or seven minutes, I almost always came and came hard. I think it had to do with this idea of power, that he was taking me so roughly and that he was, in my eyes, one of the most powerful people on Earth.
He slammed into me and began fucking me hard, like always, and I moaned like a two-dollar whore. In those moments, I was his two-dollar whore. He fucked me viciously, and it was incredible and wonderful. Sure enough, about five minutes into it, the head of his cock glided over my sweet spot, and I found myself cumming wickedly hard.
“Oh god, oh god, Michael. Yes, yes, Michael! Fuck me, Michael!” I moaned.
He grabbed my waist and began ramming himself in even harder. There was just something about the way that Dr. Ivy took control in these quickie sessions that made me feel astounding. The first time he’d done it, I had had a mind-numbing orgasm, but I’d also gone home with bruises on my hips. I didn’t mind. I liked it.
Then he did something he’d never done before. While he fucked me, still employing the same amount of roughness and force, he lifted one of his hands from my waist and spanked my ass cheek. He didn’t do it gently. He brought his hand down hard as hell, and pain shot through me. I yelped in immediate reaction, but my orgasm seemed to explode all over me again.
“Fuck, yes, spank me!” I cried out blindly.
He obliged my request and began raining down slaps on each ass cheek. I couldn’t believe how turned on I was by it. I wasn’t one that usually went for pain at all, during sex or otherwise, but something about it was really, really driving me crazy. Each slap on my ass brought me a quick jolt of pain, and then the pleasure seemed to compound and grow. He’d brought me to multiple orgasms before, and his spanks were doing it for me now.
It was going on four years, so I imagined that we’d fucked each other something in the neighborhood of fifteen hundred times. We were comfortable with one another. So it wasn’t strange that, when I walked into the examination room, he didn’t even say hello. Instead, he grabbed me by the hips, bent me over, wrenched down the bottoms of my scrubs—taking my panties with them—and wordlessly slammed into me. It was incredible. I loved the quickies. We’d had all kinds of different sex: I’d been on top, I’d been on the bottom, I’d sucked his cock. It had been rough, and it had been sweet. But, strangely, what I loved the most was these quickies, when he bent me over and took me like a man on a mission. Even though they usually only lasted six or seven minutes, I almost always came and came hard. I think it had to do with this idea of power, that he was taking me so roughly and that he was, in my eyes, one of the most powerful people on Earth.
He slammed into me and began fucking me hard, like always, and I moaned like a two-dollar whore. In those moments, I was his two-dollar whore. He fucked me viciously, and it was incredible and wonderful. Sure enough, about five minutes into it, the head of his cock glided over my sweet spot, and I found myself cumming wickedly hard.
“Oh god, oh god, Michael. Yes, yes, Michael! Fuck me, Michael!” I moaned.
He grabbed my waist and began ramming himself in even harder. There was just something about the way that Dr. Ivy took control in these quickie sessions that made me feel astounding. The first time he’d done it, I had had a mind-numbing orgasm, but I’d also gone home with bruises on my hips. I didn’t mind. I liked it.
Then he did something he’d never done before. While he fucked me, still employing the same amount of roughness and force, he lifted one of his hands from my waist and spanked my ass cheek. He didn’t do it gently. He brought his hand down hard as hell, and pain shot through me. I yelped in immediate reaction, but my orgasm seemed to explode all over me again.
“Fuck, yes, spank me!” I cried out blindly.
He obliged my request and began raining down slaps on each ass cheek. I couldn’t believe how turned on I was by it. I wasn’t one that usually went for pain at all, during sex or otherwise, but something about it was really, really driving me crazy. Each slap on my ass brought me a quick jolt of pain, and then the pleasure seemed to compound and grow. He’d brought me to multiple orgasms before, and his spanks were doing it for me now.
