Hillary Davenport was running late. This was not unusual for the plain girl with golden hair. She always kept a full schedule. She believed that the busier she was the better her life would be. Idle hands, or so she told herself. Today she was increasingly flustered as she found herself dashing from one meeting to another all over the city. Perhaps she should have listened when her mother said accepting a job at Goldman Sachs while finishing her last year at Harvard was not the best idea. She dreaded becoming like the vapid heiresses in class who simply went to graduate school to find a husband.
Hillary was flying down the highway at 90 mph so that she would be on time for her appointment. She was coming from the registrar’s office, confirming she had completed all degree requirements to receive her MBA diploma later that Spring. She knew she had, of course, she was in the top 5% of her class.
She rummaged through her purse searching for her phone. In her rush to get on the road she had forgotten where she was going.
“Orthodontist – 5:30 p.m.” she said reading the screen while ignoring the road before her.
Hillary was a late bloomer. While her friends in middle and high school all got braces and were rid of them by college, she had to wait until college to get hers. How embarrassing it was to walk into a meeting with billionaires only to flash a smile full of metal and pray her lunch hadn’t stuck around to display itself for the rest of the day.
Everything about Hillary came late. She was late to get her period. Late to get her first kiss. Late to lose her virginity. Her boobs concerned her the most. Throughout high school she remained a flat A cup. Her mother assured her that she would “blossom” later but she still felt boyish standing next to her friends. And then she went to college. And without warning it seemed, she started to prove her mother right. She woke up one morning and had solid B cups.
“Where did these come from?!” she screamed as she admired her new figure in her dorm room mirror.
She began buying new clothes and – for the first time in her life – was fitted for a bra. Boys started to notice her more. As they walked past and lowered their eyes to her chest her face would flush and her groin would ache. She finally felt sexy.
And then it seemed like someone had played a cruel joke on her. No matter what she ate or how many miles she ran on the treadmill, her boobs continued to grow. She suddenly couldn’t keep up with buying bras that fit. She found herself squishing them together as hard as possible and throwing multiple sports bras on to support them. She was a DD cup by December and grew to HH by the end of her first year. Victoria’s Secret made a fortune off her over those few months.
“You’re so lucky!” the young sales associate squeeked. “I wish my boobs grew like yours. You didn’t even get fat!”
She learned quite quickly that with great breasts comes great responsibility. She always had to check to make sure they were fully covered. In between classes she found herself in the ladies’ room wadding paper towels underneath them to prevent the embarrassing underboob sweat stains. Then there were the boys. While only a few had shown interest in her before, she found that she couldn’t keep up with all the names thrown at her daily.
While she had experimented with the opposite sex like most girls her age, she had never found herself attracted to the men that fought for her attention. In fact, she didn’t feel attracted to anyone. She had urges. Physical needs. But something was missing. She went on dates, met up to roll around on the campus’ quad while passionately making out, and, of course, had gone to bed with a few men. But these things were never completely satisfying for Hillary. She did them because that’s what people do: have sex. While most of the guys who stopped to talk to her wanted to have sex with her so badly that they would have to fight the urge to adjust themselves in front of her, she felt no urges of her own to bed them beyond the occasional, lingering physical need.
She turned in to the parking lot and flew out of her car to run into the office. It was 5:43 p.m. She hoped Dr. Whatever-his-name-was hadn’t left. This was her last appointment and she was ready to be rid of the braces for good.
She opened the door and walked in. It was quiet.
“Hello?” she asked as she looked around the reception desk for any form of life.
“Hillary? Dr. Howard. Come on back.” A deep voice bellowed from the other side of the office.
She quickly walked through the office to the exam room. She barely acknowledged the doctor, who was patiently sitting by the exam chair, tools ready at his side, while plopping herself down.
“So we’re taking these out today?”
“Yeah. Sorry I’m late!”
“Don’t worry about it.” He said lightly. “I read your chart. 5 years is a long time to be in braces.” He motioned for her to open her mouth. He leaned over and looked in her mouth.
“But it was worth the wait. You have a beautiful smile.”
Hillary turned to look at him and found herself speechless as she stared at the very cute doctor. He had slightly longer hair than most men wear these days and he had slicked it back with a casual eloquence. A few strands hung in front of his eyes, slight wrinkles around them revealing his age. His eyes were his most striking feature. Deep blue. They glowed beautifully in the white ceiling lights. She traced his face with her eyes, from his small but pouty lips to his strong chin and jawline.
She suddenly realized that she was panting loudly, her large chest rising and falling rapidly. Her full sprint into the office had momentarily winded her. She went into action mode, as all women with large chests do, and checked to see if her shirt was still covering her belly and that the twins hadn’t popped out on her way in.
She grabbed her bra and pulled up, giving her more cleavage than she was comfortable with but she didn’t want him to see her fondling herself in the exam chair. She turned back to continue admiring Dr. Howard and caught his eyes, the beautiful blue eyes, dart wildly from her chest to his tools. He was flushed and appeared to be tensing.
“Ready to go?” he stammered as he hung his head slightly embarrassed at getting caught.
She forced a stiff nod as she was still slightly gasping for air.
She opened her mouth and he began examining her. He traced her teeth with a few tools. Her mind began to wander, thinking of her Soul Cycle class later that night and how much she dreaded an hour of a woman with the figure of a goddess screaming at her that she’s worth the pain.
A light shown in her eyes and she winced. The doctor wore a large Rolex on his wrist, somehow making his arm sexier.
Dr. Howard turned and reach for the pliers. She took a moment to take him in: broad shoulders, wide chest, arms pushing the sleeves of his white coat to their absolute limits…her face felt warm. Her gaze dropped down to his bulge. And quiet a bulge it was. She wondered how could anyone be this perfect.
Dr. Howard then pushed backwards from the chair and began pushing the wheels of his chair with his hands. This caught her off guard. She was so rushed to sit down she hadn’t noticed that he was in a wheelchair. It wasn’t the kind you see in hospitals and retirement homes. The wheels looked almost like they were angled facing towards him. Sleek. The race car of wheelchairs, she thought.
Dr. Howard pushed himself to the counter in the next room. The counter had been lowered to accommodate his reduced height. He slid under it like he was sitting at a dinner table. He grabbed a box of plastic gloves.
“Sorry.” He said. “Ran out.”
“No problem.” She said still panting slightly.
As she watched him navigate the office, spinning himself in and out of the furniture, box on his lap, her groin began to pulse. She was sweating and felt flushed. He was so capable. She didn’t think she would be able to move as gracefully if the situation was reversed. He was beautiful. Sexy.
Hillary clasped her thighs together and felt a wave of pleasure slowly flow up her body. Her thighs began to rub together slowly. Her panties were getting wetter by the second as she watched him push himself around – each movement was determined, natural.
Dr. Howard pushed himself back next to her. Stealing a few quick glances at her cleavage. He hadn’t always been in a wheelchair and used to be quite the ladies’ man. Until the accident.
When he was 24 he was in a car accident that left him an incomplete paraplegic, though he felt totally paralyzed most days. The accident forced him to withdraw from medical school to recover. He had multiple surgeries, countless hours of exhausting physical therapy, and long sleepless nights wondering what he was going to do with his life. He had been a jock in college – a tennis standout. He wouldn’t even be able to play table tennis the same after the accident, let alone ever walk onto a court again.
In time, he learned to accept his new limitations. He had used his physique and good looks to bed numerous women in high school and college. He could have any woman he wanted and he took advantage. He knew that he was gifted below the belt when he was a freshman in high school and his tennis coach’s wife couldn’t stop staring at his cock in his tight shorts.
Then he became a paraplegic. And the girls stopped chasing him. Suddenly he couldn’t get anyone’s attention without them looking down at him, pity filling their face and asking if he needed help. “No fuckers I just want to be left alone,” he thought.
He transferred his med school credits to dental school and focused on orthodontics. His uncle was an oral surgeon and had pointed out that all dentists sit while treating patients. He did his residency with a well-known orthodontist soon after graduating. His boss became a great friend and mentor and spent a lot of money to make his office wheelchair accessible and, as he put it, “thriveable.”
He took over the practice after his mentor had retired. Business was good. Very good. He wasn’t rich by any means, but he wanted for nothing and was able to donate considerably to local charities.
He was used to working on the gross teeth of teenagers with poor hygiene. So he was surprised when he looked at Hillary’s chart that afternoon and saw that she was in her mid-twenties.
Her appointment was the last of the day and she was late. He had been warned, however, by his secretary that Hillary tended to be a few minutes late for all of her appointments. So he pulled out his phone and began aimlessly swiping right on Tinder. He rarely matched with someone. And when he did, if they made it to the dating stage, which was rare, the dates would be so awkward that he could immediately see why they chose to go out with him: nobody else wanted to date these women.
Unlike most people with spinal cord injuries, he managed to maintain significant feeling in his lower body. “You’re lucky,” his surgeon had said. Prick. Now, years later, and countless support groups for paras, he realized he was indeed lucky. He could still get erections. And ejaculate. But he had no one to share his life with. Or fuck. He was so horny most days he felt like he was going to leap out of his chair and tackle every woman he saw.
Dr. Howard put the box of gloves on his surgical tray and slowly put on a pair. He couldn’t believe a girl like this was his patient. She looked like a model. And her figure was almost cartoonishly impossible. Her boobs were so large he couldn’t believe she could walk upright. Usually women with chests that size were either surgically enhanced or overweight. She was neither.
When she turned to sit down, he had to fight the urge to get hard. Her button-down blouse looked like it was going to burst at the chest but fit snuggly on her slender figure below.
He had lied about running out of gloves. He needed a few moments to calm down without staring at her heaving chest.
He placed the pliers in her mouth and began to yank the tiny squares of metal from her teeth. He then gently brushed them to remove remnants of the adhesive.
Hillary was tense throughout the whole procedure. Whenever he would place a piece of metal on the tray beside him, she would bite her lower lip and squeeze her thighs tighter. She thought of how impressive he was. A successful doctor. In great shape. And he does it all in a wheelchair. The thought of him pulling her into his lap and wheeling to the couch in the reception area almost sent her over the edge.
Her pussy began to pulse again. Hard and steady, like a heartbeat. She gripped the chair and tried to focus. She was so horny she couldn’t think straight. She squeezed her thighs together and let out a low moan. Her face instantly turned even a brighter shade of red and she prayed he hadn’t heard her.
She looked towards him and saw that he had been quietly watching her. His eyes now intently focused on hers. She licked her lips and bit her lower lip as her knees began to quiver. He began to breathe heavily as his eyes traced her body, lingering on her chest and focusing on her clasped thighs.
Hillary glanced down and saw that Dr. Howard’s generous bulge had grown. He was hard. And huge. She had only been with a few men but she knew that by anyone’s standards Dr. Howard’s cock would be considered large.
He placed his hand on hers, still gripping the sides of the exam chair. He lifted his hand and his fingers traced the back of her hand and slowly danced up her arm. He took her chin his hand and pulled her towards him.
And then: ecstasy. She tasted him. That musty, addicting flavor only a true man’s mouth tasted like. His tongue massaged hers gently, lovingly. He was coaxing her out of herself. He was calling her towards him. He grasped at her chest.
She opened her mouth wide and felt his tongue slip down her throat, filling her completely.
“Yes,” she thought. “Fill me. Take me. FUCK ME.”
Dr. Howard moaned as he took in the sweet familiar taste of a beautiful woman. He felt pressure on his legs. Slowly moving to his now throbbing cock. Hillary grabbed his big dick and lightly stroked it in his pants, getting it so hard he thought it might explode.
Their mouths broke and she pushed him back against the wall and jumped out of her chair. She fell to her knees, crawling towards him. She reached for his belt buckle and tore his pants open. She gasped at the sight of the base of his throbbing cock. It was so large she had to pull his pants down to take it out.
Her mouth began to salivate at the smell of his dick. She held her forearm next to it to take in its size. She was shocked that they nearly matched.
Dr. Howard smiled widely as he watched Hillary’s jaw drop seeing his dick. He knew that was one area he never had to worry about growing up.
He hadn’t had sex in years. He needed to cum. He grabbed the sides of her head, looking at her pretty face, and guided her mouth to his cock. She took him in greedily. Licking him up and down. Getting the entire shaft wet. She took it in her mouth and started sucking slowly. He remembered this game. Start slow then race to the finish. He loved it.
Hillary was moaning uncontrollably as she tasted his cock. Her pussy was still pulsing and she had soaked through her pants. As she forced his huge dick down her throat she pushed her pussy to the ground. As she pulled his dick out of her mouth she pushed up. She repeated. Up. Down. Suck. In. Out. Up. Down. He was groaning his approval while his fingers moved in her hair.
The motion was getting her off. She had never felt this before. It was like a fire was in her pussy and it was spreading to her legs and feet and then working its way back up her body, over her huge tits. By the time it flushed over her scalp she was screaming fractured moans while frantically stroking his huge dick with both hands.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Holy fuck!” she shouted as her body swelled.
Her eyes fell back into her head as she felt her whole body burst. She thought she might black out from the intensity.
Dr. Howard was moaning as he watched her play with his dick. She was gyrating wildly. He got harder, and harder, as she stroked, licked and sucked him. He felt the swell in his cock, a feeling he never thought he’d have again, as it pulled his balls to the base of his dick and shot up his shaft, dribbling out onto her hands and down her arms.
Hillary shoved it back in her mouth. Swallowing his real taste. They locked eyes as she softly moaned while sucking the last drop of cum out of his dick.
He threw his head back and rubbed her scalp. She sat back, hunched against the exam chair, panting so hard she opened a few buttons on her shirt to breathe, exposing more of her massive tits. He motioned to her to get up.
She threw her arm down and struggled to pull herself to her feet. His big arms grabbed her hips and he pulled her onto his lap. He pulled at her shirt from both sides, buttons popping off as he tore it from her body. She grabbed the three sports bras and tore them off.
She felt his strong hands take her tits and felt another wave of pleasure building. He was squeezing them just right. Firm. Hard. He was in control, they were his. Her pussy began to pulse again. She leaned down and kissed him hard on the mouth.
He pushed her away and pulled her tits into his face, sucking on them until she felt like they would come off. He pulled her right breast into his mouth, the nipple between his teeth, while his left hand held her breast.
Then she felt the fire spark again. His fingers were between her legs moving slowly beneath her pants. He found the spot immediately. He pushed his fingers in circles around her swollen clit while drawing on her nipples, alternating between the two. The fire spread even faster than before. She felt it rush to the top of her head, her brain swelling, ready to burst. And she cried out a scream of pure animalistic pleasure as she felt her body explode in a wave of lust.
She bent over on his shoulder, exhausted. Struggling to catch her breath.
She sat up and looked at him, taking his face in her hands, and pulled him towards her with her mouth open, greedily awaiting his kiss.
He pushed her back and grabbed both of her tits again and squeezed. Her pussy tightened in response and she let out a soft high-pitched squeak as he smiled at her.
“Best. Doctor. Ever.” She said panting.
He laughed as she rested her head on his hard chest, breathing his scent deeply through her nose, continuing to fill herself with him.
“Guess that was my cardio for the night hah.” She said while delighted to skip the torturous cycling class.
She lay there for a few minutes. Eyes closed, smiling. For the first time in her life, she felt complete.
“So when’s my follow-up doctor?” she asked playfully as he laughed.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/5asb0o/devotee_erotica_first_try_at_this_kind_of_thing