I lie back on the chair that is now more of a bed. I pull up my dress and cringe at the white cotton panties I have on. I definitely didn’t think this through. “Right here,” I say, pointing to my panties on my lower right hip.
He doesn’t say a thing. He’s staring at my lower body. His hand goes to my arm. “I’ll have to pull your panties down a bit. Is that okay?”
I nod. “Yes, my bathing suit would have to cover it. If my dad... it just has to be covered,” I explain. I let my head drop. I’m sure Aiden thinks I’m a child, all worried about what my father thinks or will do, but he doesn’t know Mayor Franklin. Not like I do.
Aiden moves between my legs, lifting stirrups and removing the lower part of the table. This is how I would examine going to the gynecologist would be. He’s standing between my spread legs, and there’s strain on his face. “I’m going to free hand it if that’s okay. Sometimes I use tracing techniques, but I’d like to replicate your drawing if that’s okay.”
I nod. “Sure, whatever you think is best.”
I take a deep breath. I can’t look away from him. His arms are covered in tattoos, and it makes me wonder where else he has them.
“You’ll have to stop looking at me like that, Gracie. I’ll never make it through this. Your eyes are telling me exactly what you’re thinking.”
I clench my eyes shut and lay my head back. I only open them when I know I’ll be able to look at the ceiling instead of him.
My mind is whirling, waiting for his hands to be on me. When I feel them on each side of my hips, as if he’s going to pull my underwear down, my hips flex in reaction and lift off the table as a moan escapes my lips. He freezes, and I do the same. Slowly, I let my hips fall back to the table.
Aiden
Fuck. She’s like a live wire. There’s no way I’m going to last, not like this. She probably doesn’t realize it, but her panties are soaked and almost transparent. They’re stuck to her lips, and damn I’d give anything to put my mouth on her right now.
“Are you okay?” I ask her.
She lifts her arm and covers her face. She’s embarrassed, and I don’t want her to be. In a muffled voice, she says, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never... I don’t know... It’s weird.... I’m aching.”
I’m going to hell... or I’m going to lose my license... One or the other or both, but I can’t make myself care right now. “I can help you with that... help you relax.”
She lifts her head. “I don’t do drugs.”
I laugh. I should probably be offended, but I’m not. “Me either, honey. No, I mean, you’re wound tight... you need a release.”
Her eyes squint in confusion, and if I didn’t already know, I do now. She’s a virgin. She’s more innocent than any woman I’ve ever been around. All I can do is be thankful she came here today. “You’re horny, Gracie,” I tell her plainly.
Her eyes widen, and she starts to sit up and scoot backwards, instantly denying it. “I am not.”
I nod my head, letting her move away from me when the whole time I want to hold her close. “Yes, you are. And it’s fine. Let me make you feel good.”
She’s eyeing me skeptically. “Is this something you offer all your female clients? A tattoo with a side of... well, you know,” she says awkwardly.
This time I do reach for her legs. I wrap my hands around her upper thighs. “No, I’ve never touched another client. It’s sort of a rule I have.”
“Why me?”
I tilt my head to the side. “Because I’ve never felt an attraction like this. You feel it too, right?”
She nods without even realizing it and then stops suddenly. “I’m not asking to fuck you, Gracie. Not yet.” I slide my hand up her inner thigh. “I’ll just use my hand. I want you to come. Then I’ll be able to do your tattoo while you lie there limp and satisfied.”
Her whole body is trembling. She needs this... she wants it but not more than I do. I want to see her come undone more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. I’ve almost reached the edge of her panties, and I stop there, stroking my finger back and forth along the edge. She shifts her body, pushing toward me, but I keep my finger right where it’s at. “I’m not touching you until you tell me you want me to, baby.”
“Yes,” she mutters.
I smile, and instead of diving in like I want to, I ask her, “Yes what?”