Little Lucy and the Doctor Read online

  "You'd better not be! There's just one more thing." He surveyed her attire. "You'll be on the reception desk at The Beeches in full public view, not tucked away in one of the back offices - so I'll expect you to be attired appropriately."

  She broke into a smile. "Oh, I just love dressing up," she enthused.

  "Just something business-like. That means not wearing your clothes inside out, and no odd socks."

  "Um, yeah..." She flushed and squirmed in embarrassment and then flashed him a bright smile. "Business-like. I can do that."

  "I sure hope so."

  "I won't let you down, Simon. Is it ok for me to call you Simon?"

  "Sure, when it's just the two of us. At all other times, it's Dr Dale."

  "Understood."

  "Right then. It's time you were off. I'll see you Thursday."

  "I can stay longer if there's anything else you'd like me to do?"

  "No, that's not necessary. Thanks anyway."

  "OK, and ... I'm sorry about earlier. I won't mess up again."

  "No problem. We sorted it."

  "We did, didn't we." She beamed happily and grabbed her bag. "Bye, Simon. See you Thursday." She left with a saucy wiggle of her hips in those oh so tight jeans, completely unaware that Dr Simon Dale was smiling wolfishly as he eyed her bottom appreciatively.

  He had a very strong urge to spank it.

  ---oOo---

  "Simon! Great to see you again. How's things?"

  Before Simon had chance to reply, he was enveloped in a cloud of perfume and tightly embraced in a full-bosomed hug. Lips kissed his cheek and lingered as the owner of those luscious lips drooled at her unexpected catch.

  "Oh. Hi, er ..." Damn - I've forgotten her name. "Hi. I'm good, thanks... Jenny."

  "Jenny? You tease. It's Jodie. Jodie Marshall."

  "Ah yeah, of course. I meant Jodie." Simon grinned apologetically, attempting to take a step back, but the woman still held him fast in an embrace.

  "It's so good to see you. I thought for a moment there you didn't remember me."

  "How could I not remember you? Though it's a long time since we were at medical school."

  "Twenty years and you look as delicious as ever, darling. What are you doing here in my domain?"

  "I've been attending a conference. It's been a long day."

  "I know the perfect remedy for a long day," purred Jodie suggestively. "You need to curl up on the sofa and relax with a glass of wine - and me. We should catch up."

  Simon laughed. Jodie Marshall had earned herself a reputation at medical school for bedding any available man she could get her hands on. She oozed sexuality and a mere snap of her manicured fingernails usually resulted in men giving in to temptation. And who could blame them? She was tall and full-bodied, with wide hips, and a trim waist, and the most amazing pair of tits on the planet. A cloud of long dark hair framed a face with dark sculpted brows, high cheekbones, wickedly beguiling emerald eyes, and a wide sensual mouth.

  "Thanks all the same, but I have a 30 mile drive."

  Jodie pouted, but her eyes sparked with innuendo. "You're heading east?" She walked alongside him, her left hand reaching out to touch his arm. "Mmm, love the suit."

  "Yep." He continued walking along the corridor, oblivious to the admiring glances of women, many of whom turned their heads for a second look.

  "Great. You can give me a lift. You can drop me off en route to the motorway and we can have a nice chat in the car."

  Simon gritted his teeth. The woman was like a leech. He could hardly refuse her a ride without sounding churlish. So he forced a smile. "Sure. I'm surprised you don't drive in to work though."

  "I take the train. It's so much more fun than driving through the rush hour. I hate being stuck in all that traffic." Jodie smiled slyly as they walked through the car park - walked right past her own vehicle - and as she slid into the passenger seat of Simon's car, she deliberately hitched up her skirt revealing an expanse of shapely legs.

  "So - how's life as a radiographer?" asked Simon, feeling obliged to make small talk.

  "Senior radiographer now. It's a job. It has its perks. But what about you? I want all the news."

  "Three days doing NHS work and two days with private patients at the Beeches-"

  He would have said more, but she interrupted him. "Oh yes, I know The Beeches. It's one of the best private clinics in the country. Any job openings for a sexy radiographer?"

  "None whatsoever." He gave her a sidelong glance. "You looking for a move?"

  "I'm thinking about it. Working at the teaching hospital is ok - very busy as you'd imagine, but ..." She shrugged and grimaced. "It's just not fun any more. Do you know what I mean?"

  "Not really. I don't regard medicine as fun. Sure, it has its moments, but it's a serious profession. Rewarding."

  "You need to lighten up a little darling. So, on the subject of fun - are you getting any in your private life? Do you have a significant other? I don't see a wedding ring."

  Simon bit back a smile. A wedding ring wasn't anything that had put her off in the past. He knew enough about Jodie Marshall to realise she was just as hungry for married men as she was for single guys. "I was married for a couple of years. It didn't work out and we went our separate ways. We're still good friends though."

  "Anyone special in your life?"

  "Not really." Simon thought about his play partners at the BDSM club. "A few casual yet trusted friends. I'm too busy with work to make any other commitment."

  "It sounds like you've been working far to hard, Dr Dale, and I think it's about time we did something about that."

  "Back off, Jodie. I'm quite content with my lot." Simon smiled, but there was a certain tone to his voice - a tone which usually elicited respect and obedience - but not from Jodie; she was a law unto herself and always had been.

  "Nonsense, darling. You need to let your hair down. You need..." She placed her hand on his thigh. "... some hot sex ... wouldn't you agree?" The hand moved a little higher.

  "You're incorrigible, Jodie." He slapped her hand playfully and moved it from his thigh. "Now stop trying to distract me while I'm driving."

  "I haven't even started yet," she purred huskily. "Take the next left and then a right. My place is right at the end of the crescent."

  Simon followed her directions and pulled up outside a smart upmarket apartment block.

  "I'm at number 40D - which is ironic really." She laughed.

  "Why?"

  "Because it's also my bra size."

  "Ah." She really was a pest, but he couldn't help laughing.

  "Come on in and have a drink with me."

  "No, really. I have to get going."

  "Oh come on, Simon. I won't bite." She smiled, showing a row of perfect teeth contrasting with her glossy red lipstick.

  But Simon shook his head. "I'll see you around sometime, Jodie. Have fun."

  "Oh I intend to." She leaned across and grazed her lips over his, and then quick as a flash, grabbed the keys from the ignition, opened the passenger door and fled.

  "What the ... hey!" Simon glared at the retreating figure.

  "You want your keys, you'll just have to come and get them," she taunted, waving them playfully like some prized trophy.

  "Bloody infuriating woman," muttered Simon. He got out of the car and slammed the door, then strode after her, a thunderous look on his face.

  Jodie hurried to unlock her apartment door. Once inside she ran into the lounge and flicked on the lamps. Undeterred by Simon's obvious annoyance she waited for him to join her, a smug smile on her face.

  "This is no joke, Jodie. Give me my damned keys back - now."

  "Come and get them, big boy." Jodie dropped his car keys down her ample cleavage.

  "Oh for fuck's sake..."

  "Loosen up, Simon. You've worked hard all day. It's time for some enjoyment, don't you think?"

  "I really wouldn't like to tell you what I think right now," snapped Simon. "Can't you get
it into that stupid head of yours that I'm not interested in you. I thought I'd made that perfectly clear."

  "Not clear enough, obviously." Jodie shrugged off her jacket and undid another button on her blouse. "Well - do you want your keys or don't you?"

  "Hand them over, Jodie."

  "Shan't," she said defiantly, her eyes flashing. "Take a seat and enjoy the show."

  Simon gave her a hard stare. He knew full well that she wanted - and expected - him to come running and put his hands down her bra to retrieve his keys. Well, he had no intention of doing so. Stony-faced he sat on a chair, folded his arms and waited, remaining stoically silent as she tried to engage him in further conversation.

  "Oh you're such hard work!" she cried at length. "But I know just what to do to get you going." And as he stared at her, she unbuttoned her blouse and slowly took it off. Then turning to give him a view of her ample rear, she wiggled her ass and peeled down her skirt. "You like what you see, huh?"

  Simon narrowed his eyes. She had a stunning figure and a fabulously round bottom, with full cheeks that strained against the fabric of her black lace panties. Her long legs were given even more elevation with the three-inch heels she wore, and the sheer black hold-up stockings were a joy to behold. He swallowed, and as she seductively lowered her panties and stepped out of them, he felt his cock harden. In mere seconds it was like an iron bar. He crossed his legs, but not before she had seen the obvious effects of her impromptu striptease. The bra came off next, and her big breasts bounced out of their confines. He stared at her rosy nipples, little hard nubs that would no doubt be such a pleasure to suckle.

  "Cat got your tongue, Dr Dale?" she whispered huskily. "Let's see if this provokes further reaction." She sat in the armchair opposite Simon; leaning right back, she raised and spread her legs unashamedly wide, resting a leg on each of the chair arms. Then taking the keys in her right hand she slowly trailed the key fob up her right thigh, right up to her glistening pussy, and as Simon watched, she began caressing her engorged labia with the key fob, before slowly bringing it up to circle her swollen clit.

  Simon didn't say a word. She was there for the taking, blatantly displaying herself, completely uninhibited, but if she wanted a man who could be easily manipulated, she had picked the wrong guy. And as his cock pulsed in his pants with a mind of its own, he exhaled slowly and made a point of looking at his watch.

  The gesture wasn't lost on Jodie. She frowned, her face a picture of surprise and annoyance; but holding her irritation in check, she curved her lips into a smile, deposited the key fob on the adjacent table, released herself from her position and stepped towards Simon, moving slowly with a predatory grace, intent on her prey. Her large breasts jiggled and her hips swayed. Two steps... three... four, and she slid to her knees before him, one hand covering the massive bulge that tented his trousers.

  "Well someone's happy to see me," she purred. "Let's take a closer look." She licked her lips in anticipation. "I'm going to give you the best blow job of your life, darling." Her questing, eager fingers reached for his zipper. "Oh my, is this all for me...?"

  In that split second, Simon was torn between wanting to give in to his baser instincts and rebuffing her. What was the harm? She expected nothing in return, and it had been around 7 months since he last had sex, and here it was, offered on a plate for the taking. Then, unbidden, the image of Lucy Peters came into his mind. Such a cute little thing she was with her elfin face and big puppy-dog eyes; her body was tiny and doll-like, not voluptuously sexy like Jodie's, and yet ... And yet, if he was going to get a blow job, he would rather have Lucy Peter's lips around his cock than this pushy woman's. Jodie was clearly used to getting her own way. And so was he. He made his decision. He pushed her hand away.

  "Actually darling," he drawled, "none of it's for you. Now if you'll excuse me, it's time I was on my way." With that he shoved her back and got to his feet, leaving her staring at him slack-jawed.

  "What?! You're turning me down?" She was incredulous. "How dare you!"

  "Too right I am." He picked up his keys and slipped them into his pocket and then gave her a hard stare.

  "What the hell are you looking at?" she snapped as anger sheathed her pretty face into a dull red mask of rejection.

  "I'm looking at a desperate woman. And believe me, it's not a pretty sight." He turned on his heel and left her, speechless for a brief moment, and then a stream of obscenities were hurled in his wake.

  "You utter bastard!! How dare you do this to me?! Fuck you, dick head!"

  He ignored her and left the apartment, left her ranting and yelling insults as he closed the door firmly behind him. A few seconds later there came an almighty crash and the sound of splintering. He shook his head, realising she had probably hurled the glass vase from the coffee table.

  "Bloody psycho," he muttered, and returned to his car.

  He drove away without a backward glance.

  ---oOo---

  Later that evening, Simon poured himself an after-dinner drink and as he sipped it, leaned back in the chair, contemplating the encounter with Jodie. It wasn't the fact that he had given her the brush-off that surprised him, it was his reason for doing so. Ok, so the woman was pushy and highly sexual; it was no big deal and he could deal with that - but why was he becoming so infatuated with little Lucy?

  The more he thought about it, the clearer her image became in his mind. He could picture her unruly blonde hair tumbling down over her shoulders, and those big brown eyes that practically begged for his approbation. She was scatty, a little chatterbox, anxious to please, and she had such an intriguing blend of innocence tempered with sexuality. Yet the most surprising thing of all was her submissive nature and the revelation that she liked to be spanked. Perfect. Given his own kinky interests and 20 years experience of BDSM, she would be perfect for him, regardless of the disparity in their ages. He could train her to serve him and please him, and in return he would pleasure her and give her a meaningful relationship in which she could learn to fully embrace her submissive nature and delight in the things he could show her. But fraternizing with a colleague wasn't a good idea, though maybe when her five-week stint was up he should ask her out on a date.

  "Five weeks? That's a hell of a long time to wait," he muttered to himself, thinking whether he should break his self enforced rule of not getting involved with anyone he worked with. After all, when her time was up, she would leave the hospital and they could continue their relationship without the wagging tongues behind the hospital grapevine.

  He took another sip of his drink. The smooth malt whisky slid down the back of his throat, reminding him of Jodie's offer of a blow job and his imagination running riot by substituting the image of Lucy for Jodie. His cock hardened immediately at the thought, but this time he resolved to do something about it. He had a pressing physical need to assuage. He unzipped, and as his cock sprang free of the confines of clothing, he reached for the box of tissues. As he thrust and groaned out his climax, he imagined that it was Lucy bringing him off with her deft little fingers and eager mouth.

  ---oOo---

  Thursday was something of a revelation, for not only was Lucy on time, she was dressed in a sexy but smart little outfit. He stared at her in approval. She wore her hair half up and half down, and her outfit consisted of a cream blouse with little puff sleeves and pearl buttons, worn with a tight fitting pencil skirt in dark grey. It ended a couple of inches above the knee, and her coltish legs were elevated by a pair of black patent shoes with a three-inch heel.

  "Do I look business-like?"

  "You sure do. Very professional."

  Lucy sighed happily. "I bought new shoes. I usually wear flat ones so these are high for me, and I can't walk very well in them - but I've been practising ... see!" She demonstrated by tottering around the office. "I put a pair of flat Mary-Jane's in my bag just in case I need them."

  "Good thinking." He eyed her cute little bottom as it wiggled around the room. "Well, you look
very smart, Lucy, so thanks for making the effort."

  She beamed at the compliment. "That's ok. I even got a new notebook." She pulled it out of her shoulder bag. "It's a Disney one, but that doesn't matter, does it?" He shook his head, amused. "Oh good. It has Nemo on it. Have you seen that movie?"

  "What movie is that?"

  "Finding Nemo, silly!"

  "Silly, huh?" Simon's right eyebrow arched - that was the second time she had referred to him as silly.

  "Ohhhh!" said Lucy. She stared at his eyebrow, fascinated.

  "What?"

  "I like it when you do that."

  "When I do what?" He was genuinely puzzled.

  "That thing with your eyebrow. Do it again!"

  "I haven't a clue what you mean. I don't do anything with my eyebrow!"

  "That's weird then, cos it wiggles," said Lucy. "I think it's kinda sexy. It makes me feel all funny in my tummy." She giggled and covered her mouth with her hand.

  "Then I shall take it as a compliment - I think. Anyhow, we've no time to discuss wiggly eyebrows and funny tummies. There's work to be done."

  He tried not to smile too broadly as he gave her a quick tour of the clinic including the consulting rooms. She was most impressed.

  "Can I come in here and have a little nap after lunch on this nice comfortable bed?"

  "Certainly not." He tried to sound strict, but failed. "These rooms are for patients only. You stick to the reception desk. Come on, I'll show you where everything is. It's the same computer system, so you'll be fine with it I'm sure. They key thing to remember here is that you are very much in the public eye, so you need to be courteous and polite and efficient." He glanced down and noticed that she was scribbling in her notebook. "What are you doing?"

  "Writing it down. See - curteous, polite, and efficient." She had written the three words in great big letters.

  "You can't spell courteous."

  "Oh." She pouted, then cast him a sidelong look. "I'd better tell Mr Petrakis about that."

  "Why? Is he rubbish at spelling too?"

  "Hey, I'm not rubbish at spelling, you'll see. That was just a tiny little slip because I was writing it down in a hurry. I tell Mr Petrakis stuff because ... you know."