A thumb and the stairwell [MF]

Maybe it was a Tuesday, I don’t remember. I was scheduled early that day. I spent most of the morning idly waiting for a patient to come out of surgery. It was quiet around there—not the usual hustle of Pre op. Dr. Shah, the anesthesiologist also was hanging around his office on his phone playing candy crush or something. I walked by his office and casually glanced over to see if he was there. My heart leapt a little when I saw him. I smiled to myself. Today was going to be a fun day at the surgery center!

Dr. Shah and I had met the week before at the lake house where he docks his boat. I had been looking forward to boating but the battery was dead. It was August and still very hot in TX. He had specifically asked me to wear a smaller bikini. I obliged him in my one-size-too-small emerald green string bikini. You know the ones that tie on the side. Now that we couldn’t boat we opted to float on the Lilly pad that was tied to the side of the dock. We drank margaritas and I listened to too many stories of nostalgia. After the second drink and third story he started a fourth. I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled him to me and kissed him-mostly to shut him up. In between alternating kisses, I told him there would be no more stories. Pretty sure that embarrassed him a bit but I figured a tongue in his mouth and my wet body pressing up to his would soften the blow. And I was right. Forgiven.

We both had kids to retrieve shortly. We decided we had time for one more drink so we headed back upstairs to the kitchen. We poured a drink and I recommended sunbathing on the balcony. It was a beautiful day overlooking the lake. He sat in a barstool and I laid on a towel in front of him. I faced laying away from him. When we talked I would raise my hand to my face to block the sun and look back. I don’t know why I faced away from him. I was still playing hard to get. This had been going on for two months already, but he was definitely making headway.

It was time to go. Neither of us wanted to leave really. We were having fun in the sun. I stood up on my towel and took three assertive steps towards the chair he sat in. I centered myself between his open thighs. The bar stool was tall so as I stood he was my height. I kissed him.

In that moment as the sun beat down on us I could viscerally feel electricity popping and crackling off of our skin. It was the push of want versus the pull of chastity. I was doing my best to control the situation and at that moment I lost. The heat melted all inhibitions. The respirations increased, the heat increased and nothing existed to us except breath and kiss. He raised his hand to my face and inserted his thumb in my mouth. My lips closed around it and I exhaled out of my nose as he advanced to the back of my mouth. I was rendered motionless. When he removed it, again, the respirations increased and the rate and pressure of kiss increased. In a swift move he reached for the bikini strings on one hip and tugged it open. I grabbed his hand to stop the bikini from falling to the floor. It was time to leave.

Now it was Tuesday and we were at work. I work under his direction. As we waited for a patient he texted me, “Meet me in the stairwell.”

I found him there where we nervously kissed. His back was pressed against the door so no one could walk in on the man and woman in scrubs making out in the stairwell. So we kissed for a minute and hurried back to our stations. An hour later we again were waiting for a patient and here comes a text, “stairwell?” We practically ran. This time the kiss was harder, the tongues were harder, his cock was harder and my pussy was wetter. As we made out he reached his hand into my scrubs and pulled my panties away from my body to finger me. My back was pressed against the wall and I stood on my toes so he could get deeper. After a minute or two of that we came to our senses and realized we were at work and needed to go back. I composed myself. Pulled my hair back, took a breath and walked in.

I sat in the empty recovery room and heard a text come in on my phone in my pocket. It was Dr Shah again. He was sitting in his office which was through some double doors and around the corner from where I sat. His door was open. I texted him back, “my panties are mess.” He said, “take them off.” I blinked. Twice. “You want me to take my panties off here at work?” “Yes. And bring them to me” he said. “They’re obstructing my hand.” I sat there on my chair in the empty recovery room and thought for a moment. Should I do this? Should I take my panties off at work? Should I give this guy what he wants? Well, I figured, no one will know you aren’t wearing panties. I walked to the near by bathroom, closed the door, dropped my drawers and slipped off my panties. I put them in my scrub top pocket while I put my pants back on. I never texted him back if would actually do it.

I walked to his office. I stood at the door leaning with my right shoulder against the jam. Our eyes met but no words were spoken. I pulled my hand out of my pocket and threw the panties at his desk. With his elbow on his desk, he caught them in mid air. Our eyes locked-his gleaned with surprise-mine with mischievous triumph.

I turned on my heel and walked back to my post.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7uvl0c/a_thumb_and_the_stairwell_mf