Creamed - Page 2

After that, I’m just putty when he’s in front of me.

His brow knots a little, and he stoops to make sure he can be at my eye level.

“Mandy, you alright?” he asks, and I pump my head eagerly.

“I’m great, thanks, Dr. De Silva,” I manage to get out. “Your usual today?”

This time it’s his turn to go quiet for a moment, and his face falls, but only for a second before he beams again.

“You bet!” he exclaims. “And please, call me Foxx, Mandy,” he says with an air of authority that sends a shiver through me.

“Foxx,” I murmur, flushing harder. His name was already etched in my mind like an echo from when I first noticed his name tag.

Ducking his head sideways, he gives a wave and his standard “Hi Rose!” to Mrs. Peters out back.

Somehow he seems to understand how she likes to hover and listen when he comes by, but she doesn’t say much more than a surprised sounding “Oh, hello, doctor!” back to him.

As if we don’t all know she’s eavesdropping just a little.

I busy myself with his order, but I have trouble focusing. He’s wearing cologne today, which is unusual for any of the doctors. A cologne that matches him perfectly, of course. It’s not strong, but it is earthy, like the woods in fall after rain mixed with something I can’t put my finger on.

Something I could dive into and stay there forever, though. Like anything to do with him, it’s just breathtaking.

“And did you suggest the tip jar to Mrs. Peters?” he suddenly asks me.

His hushed tone is confidential, and he’s so tall that it has to be close to my face, so I can hear him when he leans over.

Feeling the warmth of his breath near me is enough to make me gulp and hope the whole world can’t see how wet he’s just made me.

It feels like I’ve just sat in a warm puddle of that cologne of his, and I don’t mind it at all.

“She gets paid plenty, plus the hospital board already said no,” Mrs. Peters chimes from the back, making both of us smile.

“Well…,” Dr. De Silva says.

His look shifts to a man who’s made his mind up about something.

He slides a crisp fifty across the countertop, and once I’ve rung up his change, he takes hold of my hand in his. I make a little sound, something stupid, but I can’t help it.

It feels like an electric current running from his huge, soft hands all the way to my already aching clit.

And all just from him touching me as he presses the change into my palm.

“Then this is for every time I wanted to tip you already,” he says casually.

His eyes kind of plead with mine. Like he’s trying to tell me something, but it’s lost on me because I know I can’t take money from customers unless it’s for food or drink.

“I– It’s just…,” I stammer. But it’s too late.

I can tell he’s disappointed, and worse than that, old Mrs. Peters comes bustling out and gets between us, making sure Foxx understands the policy on tipping.

“No offense, Dr., but rules are rules. The hospital is your domain, and this little shop is mine,” she quips.

Her accent comes through strong when she means business. But it’s a long few moments before he lets go of my hand.

Without a word, just an intense look for me and a swift nod for Mrs. Peters, he takes his coffee and turns to go.

“Same time tomorrow, then,” I call after him, wishing more than anything that it was just me here.

Just Foxx and me, with nobody around right now.

I wish I could say something intelligent to him.

But, oh no. Let’s make a weird animal noise instead the second a real man touches us…. Genius, Mandy. Just genius!

Both Mrs. Peters and I watch his perfect body as he leaves, neither of us saying a word.

When I look down, I hear her gasp, and without a word, Mrs. Peters is quick to swipe the little bundle of bills and disappear with them. She’s muttering something about people with more money than sense.

But I can’t help feeling rotten.

Rotten and elated at the same time.

I got to touch him, though. I actually touched his hand.

But I think he’s mad now. He’s not mad at me, just mad he couldn’t tip me.

Oh, Doctor. You can tip me over any chair, table, or counter. Any day. Any time you like.

If only….




Try as I might, everything I’ve rehearsed a dozen times over in my mind disappears once I see her again.

The way her blond hair is tied back in a single ponytail swishing every time she moves.

Her ample fucking chest, which can’t help but rest on the countertop, makes my dick start to throb before our eyes even lock.

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