Prescription for Miss Walker
Act 13 - If Stars Don't Align
His whole body pushed mine back into the island, my ass cheeks getting crushed from the force. He clasped the edges of the counter with one hand as he used the other to caress my face.
His kisses started off soft and passionate, but soon became frantic, as if I was the finest wine and he couldn't wait to be drunk. I lost my breath plenty of times, especially when I came to resurface for some oxygen.
Taking it as a sign for help, he put his hands under my thighs and hoisted me up onto the island. I landed harshly, the cool material evening out my burning flesh.
He placed his mouth on my neck, growing even more aroused when I moaned. His hands occupied my legs, as he wrapped them around his waist and kept his mouth on my skin.
We dry-humped like crazy, as I used my hands to guide his head or let them travel up his shirt so I could trace his muscles out line by line.
Fuck. I couldn't believe this was happening. My doctor wanted to fuck me, he wanted to take me and make me his. Oh my God.
It was surreal. I closed my eyes expecting it to be a dream, but when I opened them everything stayed the same. I was and truly well in the middle of passionately making out with him.
I unbuttoned his shirt, which he discarded of with no effort. I was free to gawk at his chest for a few nether-region tingling moments, before he wrestled me out of my sweater.
Not even bothering to compliment my lacy bra, he grabbed the back of my neck and unleashed his lips upon me again. So hard, so furiously full of desire... I extracted myself from them and stared.
"What...?"
From the instant that word left my mouth, he was in control again. The fire in his eyes died and returned back to their usual cold state.
He picked up both our clothes from the ground. Throwing mine at me, he had his back on as soon as possible. I grasped mine tightly but didn't move.
He noticed, took a step forward but then, either remembering or just plain not wanting to, stopped.
"Put it on, Miss Walker." He was back to being authoritative again. I slumped down and did as he wished.
The wet spot in my panties had grown dry, but the tent in his pants was still visible.
"I am a married man! Happily! Then you come into my examination room and you..." He licked his lips vehemently, pacing the room, put his arms behind his head and ruffled his hair.
All the while, I sat there on marble, watching his every move, repressing a cough if I had to.
"You did this to me. I would never have disrespected my vows if you hadn't asked me to be your doctor."
I slid off and touched ground, not wanting to interrupt him. If I did, I feared what he'd unload upon me.
He was right, after all. It was in my plan to seduce him.
I just didn't expect him to fall.
When I didn't try to deny it, his face softened, but then this was completely overtaken again by fury. He stalked towards the door, prepared to take his leave, although I honestly hated to see him go.
"Doctor Cameron, please!"
He froze. He'd turned the handle and he was a step from walking out, but he'd listened to me. It meant something, at least.
"Don't come into my office tomorrow. I'll call you sometime. We'll see where we go from there."
The way he sounded. It was distant, shut-off. The same as how he'd spoke to me when we first met.
Then he left.
Suddenly, within minutes, my life had gone from hotter than Hell to icier than life on Pluto. And I had no one to share that cold feeling with.
***
After being bored out of my wits for hours and watching some really crappy T.V., I realized I hadn't checked my mail in a few days or so. I bet it was trying to worm its way out of its locker.
So I put on my fox slippers and walked out the door. I greeted my neighbors as I passed them, who all either responded with a half-smile or an expression more poisonous than venom. There were some I didn't know that well, as I usually kept to myself, but then there were others who judged.
Finally I was by the wall of metal boxes, on the other end there was a cute guy I'd never seen before. Giving him a small wink to go away and think about, I opened my tiny door and took out a bunch of envelopes.
I flipped through most of them, as I knew they were rubbish, but then I came across one that I got on the exact same day of every month.
I let the others fall to the ground, as I brought this one up closer. The handwriting was cursive and done in real ink, using a quill. The way my name joined together... there was no mistaking who this was from.
Avoiding the stare and soft words of the cutie next to me, I tore open the letter and brought it out with shaky fingers.
I didn't know why I silently pleaded with myself for it not to be from him, seeing as I knew it was. He always sent a letter, telling me how much my bills were and what he'd paid, just to ensure I always had a place to stay.
To always drive the fear into me that he did everything for me, that he owned me.
I swallowed as I read the neat, perfectly in-line, twentieth-century script.
'$759, paid $1,000. Same time next month.
Always yours.'
Leaving the rest of the documents to lie there, I hurriedly made it back to my door. Once inside, I switched on the trash compactor.
Those words. That writing. That disgusting tone it held. It was always the same. I had to get rid of it.
So, without much thought, I stabbed it right into the swirling blades, reveling in the noise that would make my life look a little easier. The blades took all of it, in a circular motion as it was ripped into shreds and taken down the pipe. That way, I could forget about it, make it seem as if it never existed.
Well, if I wasn't such wreck about it already, that is.
So, regarding what just happened a few hours back and now this one torturous letter out of the hundreds I'd been receiving, I cried. I had nothing else I could do. Sure, the notes were intended to make me feel like shit, and they never failed, but with today being the shitwreck it already was, it was all too easy this time.
His kisses started off soft and passionate, but soon became frantic, as if I was the finest wine and he couldn't wait to be drunk. I lost my breath plenty of times, especially when I came to resurface for some oxygen.
Taking it as a sign for help, he put his hands under my thighs and hoisted me up onto the island. I landed harshly, the cool material evening out my burning flesh.
He placed his mouth on my neck, growing even more aroused when I moaned. His hands occupied my legs, as he wrapped them around his waist and kept his mouth on my skin.
We dry-humped like crazy, as I used my hands to guide his head or let them travel up his shirt so I could trace his muscles out line by line.
Fuck. I couldn't believe this was happening. My doctor wanted to fuck me, he wanted to take me and make me his. Oh my God.
It was surreal. I closed my eyes expecting it to be a dream, but when I opened them everything stayed the same. I was and truly well in the middle of passionately making out with him.
I unbuttoned his shirt, which he discarded of with no effort. I was free to gawk at his chest for a few nether-region tingling moments, before he wrestled me out of my sweater.
Not even bothering to compliment my lacy bra, he grabbed the back of my neck and unleashed his lips upon me again. So hard, so furiously full of desire... I extracted myself from them and stared.
"What...?"
From the instant that word left my mouth, he was in control again. The fire in his eyes died and returned back to their usual cold state.
He picked up both our clothes from the ground. Throwing mine at me, he had his back on as soon as possible. I grasped mine tightly but didn't move.
He noticed, took a step forward but then, either remembering or just plain not wanting to, stopped.
"Put it on, Miss Walker." He was back to being authoritative again. I slumped down and did as he wished.
The wet spot in my panties had grown dry, but the tent in his pants was still visible.
"I am a married man! Happily! Then you come into my examination room and you..." He licked his lips vehemently, pacing the room, put his arms behind his head and ruffled his hair.
All the while, I sat there on marble, watching his every move, repressing a cough if I had to.
"You did this to me. I would never have disrespected my vows if you hadn't asked me to be your doctor."
I slid off and touched ground, not wanting to interrupt him. If I did, I feared what he'd unload upon me.
He was right, after all. It was in my plan to seduce him.
I just didn't expect him to fall.
When I didn't try to deny it, his face softened, but then this was completely overtaken again by fury. He stalked towards the door, prepared to take his leave, although I honestly hated to see him go.
"Doctor Cameron, please!"
He froze. He'd turned the handle and he was a step from walking out, but he'd listened to me. It meant something, at least.
"Don't come into my office tomorrow. I'll call you sometime. We'll see where we go from there."
The way he sounded. It was distant, shut-off. The same as how he'd spoke to me when we first met.
Then he left.
Suddenly, within minutes, my life had gone from hotter than Hell to icier than life on Pluto. And I had no one to share that cold feeling with.
***
After being bored out of my wits for hours and watching some really crappy T.V., I realized I hadn't checked my mail in a few days or so. I bet it was trying to worm its way out of its locker.
So I put on my fox slippers and walked out the door. I greeted my neighbors as I passed them, who all either responded with a half-smile or an expression more poisonous than venom. There were some I didn't know that well, as I usually kept to myself, but then there were others who judged.
Finally I was by the wall of metal boxes, on the other end there was a cute guy I'd never seen before. Giving him a small wink to go away and think about, I opened my tiny door and took out a bunch of envelopes.
I flipped through most of them, as I knew they were rubbish, but then I came across one that I got on the exact same day of every month.
I let the others fall to the ground, as I brought this one up closer. The handwriting was cursive and done in real ink, using a quill. The way my name joined together... there was no mistaking who this was from.
Avoiding the stare and soft words of the cutie next to me, I tore open the letter and brought it out with shaky fingers.
I didn't know why I silently pleaded with myself for it not to be from him, seeing as I knew it was. He always sent a letter, telling me how much my bills were and what he'd paid, just to ensure I always had a place to stay.
To always drive the fear into me that he did everything for me, that he owned me.
I swallowed as I read the neat, perfectly in-line, twentieth-century script.
'$759, paid $1,000. Same time next month.
Always yours.'
Leaving the rest of the documents to lie there, I hurriedly made it back to my door. Once inside, I switched on the trash compactor.
Those words. That writing. That disgusting tone it held. It was always the same. I had to get rid of it.
So, without much thought, I stabbed it right into the swirling blades, reveling in the noise that would make my life look a little easier. The blades took all of it, in a circular motion as it was ripped into shreds and taken down the pipe. That way, I could forget about it, make it seem as if it never existed.
Well, if I wasn't such wreck about it already, that is.
So, regarding what just happened a few hours back and now this one torturous letter out of the hundreds I'd been receiving, I cried. I had nothing else I could do. Sure, the notes were intended to make me feel like shit, and they never failed, but with today being the shitwreck it already was, it was all too easy this time.