A few hours later, I was wheeled into the clinic room wearing a face that screamed impatience. Between the revelations with Charlotte, thinking about Olivia, still being frustratedly aroused from my time with Philippa, the hours I had spent waiting between Jimmy’s departure and the orderly actually turning up, and, most importantly, being absolutely fucking certain that I was physically well enough to be discharged, this whole exercise was becoming more and more infuriating the longer it went on.

 

Having been left in a wheelchair just inside the clinic, I looked around with half-hearted interest at the machines and apparatus that I would probably never need. There was only one other person in the room, I eyeballed her coldly.

 

“Alright, sweetheart. You are the only thing standing between me and freedom; let’s get this over with!”

 

The physiotherapist was nose deep in my files, apparently preferring the tactility of actual paperwork rather than looking at a screen. She had barely registered my presence as I looked at her. More than a decade of plying her trade had rendered her immune to every type of hostile stare that could be imagined, and she was under no illusions that my look would be a friendly one.

 

The more I looked at her, however, the more I noticed her. I had never really been one to admire the more mature lady, although being in her mid-30s hardly qualified her for that moniker. She was startlingly attractive. Her caramel hair flowed in loose waves onto her shoulders, dark-rimmed glasses framed a pair of keen brown eyes, and her lightly glossed, full, pink lips were pursed in concentration.

 

Aside from Jimmy and my parents, the woman sitting behind a small beech-colored desk was the first person I had seen since waking up that wasn’t dressed in either nursing scrubs or a doctor’s coat. A fitted white blouse and beige suit pants perfectly wrapped a toned body used to hard physical work. A few years younger, and she would have been just my type.

 

“Jesus… Did I just say that?! I’m spending far too much time with Jimmy.”

 

I blinked a few times and let my look soften as my mind reached out to hers. She was intrigued. She couldn’t even speculate how many people she had guided through their rehabilitation, everything from children dealing with birth defects to wounded combat veterans and almost every imaginable integer between. But my case was as novel to her as it was to everyone else. Just like them, she had assumed that there would be almost nothing left of my leg muscles, let alone my ability to walk, but the recent tests had shown almost the opposite. Physically speaking, I should be fine. But the amount of time that had passed since I was last upright would – as far as her professional opinion was concerned – still, cause problems. Cases like that were the hardest to crack, she would be fighting an uphill battle with me, and she knew it.

 

Fortunately, she liked the challenge.

 

She finally turned to look at me, her eyes flicking over my seated body for the briefest of seconds before settling on my eyes. “Good Afternoon, Mister Roberts,” she said with a friendly and professional smile. “My name is Samantha. May I call you Pete?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Ok, Pete,” She said with another wide and attractive smile. “Do you know why you are here?”

 

I sighed heavily and leaned back into the wheelchair. “I am here to jump through whatever hoops I need to to get discharged,” I said with a huff.

 

Samantha ignored my impatience with another warm smile. “I understand that this is frustrating, but I have you booked in for six weekly sessions; that should…”

 

“Six weeks?” I repeated, cutting off her sentence as I dropped my head to my hand and massaged the bridge of my nose.

 

Samantha, to her credit, didn’t let her smile slip for an instant. In fact, her mind grinned at the challenge she had hoped I would provide. There had been hundreds of ‘me’ over the years, each of us utterly convinced of our own capabilities before being shown the error of our hubris. “There is another option,” she said after a short pause. “We could administer the final test now. If you pass, I can sign you off today. If you don’t, you agree to come back here every week until you do.”

 

I pretended to perk up. I had been following her thoughts the entire time and was hoping that this was the route she went with. “Really?”

 

“There are conditions, though,” she clarified with a nod. “The most important of which is complete honesty. Let’s say I ask you to touch your toes, you may be able to do it, but if it is excessively painful, then it will need work. If you push yourself, it can do more damage, and you’ll be back to square one. So, I will administer the test on that one condition. If there is a lot of pain, you will tell me.  If I think you are hiding it, I will fail you on the spot. Agreed?”

 

“That sounds fair to me, Doc,” I said with a nod of my own.

 

“Second condition,” she said with another smile. “My name is Samantha; calling me ‘Doc’ will also get you failed.” She finished with a playful wink.

 

I laughed and held up my hands in mock surrender. “Samantha,” I corrected myself with a chuckle.

 

“Alright. Let’s start with the basics. Can you stand for me?”

 

“Jeeves, You’re sure about this?”

 

“Very, sir.”

 

I flashed my eyebrows, placed my hands on the armrests of the chair, and hoisted myself to my feet. It took a moment for me to find my balance, not so much shaky or unstable, but more of a head rush at the first time being upright since climbing into Moe’s cab all those weeks ago. A full-length mirror on the wall behind Samantha gave me my first look at my new physique.

 

I looked good!

 

There had been some hints at the physical changes I had made to myself, but from a seated or lying position I usually found myself in, it had always been hard to judge. The sweatpants and white tee that Becky and Philippa had so tenderly helped me into were bulging with a new muscular body, the type which would normally be paid for in hundreds of hours at the gym.

 

Happy with my footing and trusting my new legs to hold my weight, I looked back at Samantha with a triumphant smile.

 

“Very good.” She said with an impressed nod. “Any pain?”

 

“Not really.” I answered, surprising myself with my honesty. “A little stiff, but nothing I would call painful.”

 

“Alright, excellent.” She said with a smile, standing from her own place at her desk and crossing the room towards me. It was the first time I’d had a chance to look at her properly. She was about the same height as me, maybe an inch shorter, but her posture was perfect. Her straight back thrust her chest out invitingly, and her legs crossed as she traversed the space between us, her hips swaying suggestively as she walked. I couldn’t tell at this point if it was a conscious motion or just her natural gait, but it was certainly having an effect, dragging my eyes to her waist and holding them there as she approached.

 

“Ok, so the test comes in three parts, each one testing one of the main criteria for passing: Strength, mobility, and endurance.” She kicked the brakes off the wheelchair and nudged it out of the way as she started circling around me, appraising me. What started out as an inspection of my posture and muscles quickly descended into an outright admiration. She caught herself before those thoughts got the better of her. “We’ll perform the tests in that order.”

 

“Sounds like a plan,” I smirked, unabashedly enjoying her attention.

 

Samantha placed a hand between my shoulder blades. “I’m going to try to push you over; you are going to try to stay upright.” She said simply, her fingers concentrating on the contours of my skin through my tee. After a second’s pause, she started to apply pressure, pushing harder and harder on my back, trying to get me to fall forward. Simply flexing my stomach muscles and leaning back slightly was more than enough to keep me in place.

 

“Very good.” She said, removing her hand from my back and circling around to the front of me. Once again, her eyes flicked up and down my body before she put a hand on each of my new pecks. “Same thing again.” She said quickly before leaning her weight forward.

 

The feel of her hands on me was almost enough to throw me off. She pressed her weight against me hard, angling herself to press harder and harder onto my chest, using her whole body weight to push me off balance, but a simple flex of my legs and leaning forwards was still enough for me to stay upright. With a playful flash in her eyes, she suddenly pulled back.

 

The loss of her pressure very nearly toppled me forward, my equilibrium thrown into disarray at the sudden loss of resistance to my weight, but a quick step forward was enough to arrest my fall. She giggled mischievously as I righted myself, coming up painfully close to her, the peaks of her chest only millimeters from mine and her sparkling eyes looking up at me. “Almost had you there.” She smiled with another lick of her lips.

 

“Was a nice try.” I nodded with a smile of my own.

 

“Any pain?”

 

“None.”

 

“Excellent; let’s see how you do with something more challenging.” She said with another smile. Over the course of the next hour, she administered every test she could think of. From picking up and throwing a meter-wide medicine ball to holding weights in my hand and striding across the room in a series of deep lunges. Each test was successively more strenuous than the last, and each one ticking off another item on her mental checklist. By the time I had finished a series of coordination tests, she had been sufficiently convinced of my physical capabilities to think of signing me off.

 

And then it happened.

 

Apparently, the ‘within reason’ clause of my powers had been satisfied as soon as her test had been completed. Although her tests and her touches had become increasingly lingering and suggestive over the course of my appointment, her arousal suddenly exploded.

 

“You’ve done very well, Pete.” She said with a smile, tying her hair up into a ponytail and popping open the top button of her blouse. “But I’m not convinced about your endurance.”

 

“No?” I asked, trying to suppress a grin. I could tell immediately where this was going.

 

“But I’m out of ways to test you,” She said with a shake of her head. “Can you think of any activity that would require endurance? Stamina?” She paused for a second, eyes sparkling mischievously. “Staying power?”

 

“Hmm…” I said, pretending to think about the question, “I can think of a few. Maybe a long run?”

 

“No,” she drew out the syllable with a seductive bite of her lip. “That would take too long.”

 

“What about a treadmill?” I asked with a smile, stepping towards her.

 

“I’m afraid it’s broken.” She said with another shake of her head and another lick of her lips.

 

“This is a hard one,” I said as I took another stalking step toward her.

 

“Oh, I certainly hope so.” Backing away, drawing me closer, a glance down to my growing arousal and a wink.

 

“Then what would you suggest? I’m willing to do anything to get you to sign me off.” I said with a predatory grin and a chuckle.

 

“Well, rumors on the grapevine tell me that you have a certain young nurse upstairs who has taken a liking to you.” She said as she took another teasing step away. “I couldn’t possibly sign you off, knowing that you are going to have some fun with her, without making absolutely sure that you are capable of, err… performing.”

 

I took yet another step towards her. “And how would you suggest I convince you?”

 

She nibbled her bottom lip before looking me in the eye, a spark of mischief and hunger flashing behind them. “If you think you are up to the task… why don’t you prove it?!”

 

I could almost feel the hunger flash in my eyes as I took another step towards her and reached for the hem of my tee shirt.

 

Although the earlier glance in the mirror had given me little more than a brief look at my new physique, I could tell I was different. I could feel it; broader shoulders and a chest filled with defined muscles pulled at the tight white tee before I lifted it over my head and tossed it to the floor. I felt… more.

 

The thick, coarse coat of hair that had once covered me had now disappeared except for a line leading south from my navel, the dark wisps defining the contrast with my skin. I took a step towards her, her eyes flicking across my torso as mine burned into hers. The playful and teasing grin that had tugged at her lips was rapidly being replaced by a seductive curl of desire. Her tongue darted hungrily out to wet her lips. She stepped backward and away from me, still working under the illusion that she was directing the show, that was until her back bumped into the wall behind her. I stalked after her like a hunter closing in on his prey, my eyes fixed on hers, watching as they betrayed the realization of the game. The teasing had stopped, at least on her part. She had thrown down the gauntlet, and, much to her surprise, I hadn’t hesitated to pick it up; the mere notion of that flooded her with arousal.

 

Her hands reached out as she licked her lips again, trailing fingers across my chest with a purr before my own captured them, stepping in closer again and lifting her hands above her head, holding them against the wall.

 

My arms were definitely bigger, and so were my hands. They were easily large enough to hold both of her wrists in a single grip … they just exude power. Her head was tilted back, watching the arrest of her limbs against the wall above her, exposing her neck to me. I took my last step forward and pressed my lips against the throbbing pulse in her throat, kissing deeply.

 

A deep and provocative moan vibrated beneath my lips as it traveled up her throat and escaped her lips; she surrendered to me almost immediately. Although she could never have been said to be resisting the pinning of her hands, she noticeably relaxed as the echo of her moan died out. Dropping her weight slightly, she parted her legs and rolled her hips to press her molten core against my thigh. I was more than happy to shift my own weight to add to the pressure.

 

Beyond the heat of her sex and the growing arousal of her heavy breaths, I could feel her mind. What I was doing to her was the absolute epitome of her deepest fantasies. She had always been a sexual and sexually confident woman, never afraid to make the first move. She had always known exactly what she wanted from a man and expected it to be given. In return, she would blow his mind. There were only a few warmly cherished and often revisited memories of men who had lived up to her expectations and properly satisfied her, even fewer who had done so without an excessive amount of prompting. Her fantasies didn’t revolve around a specific scenario or some explicit tryst; they were all about the act itself.

 

Unlike Becky, Samantha was neither submissive nor was she dominant, but at the same time, she could be said to be both. She liked to tease and to be teased. She was as happy with soft, luxurious, and languorous lovemaking as she was with wild, rough, and almost animalistic rutting. She liked it hard but not painful; dirty, but always expected respect; affectionate but non-committal. She liked what she liked, and right now, her mind was singing.

 

It sang more as my lips started moving. Each kiss was different from the one before; the hard and deep kiss with the rough stubble of my cheeks scratching against her skin, the delicate peck, the teasing flick of the tongue, the almost vampiric nibble. I moved from the side of her neck to the base of her throat, kissing a trail to the underside of her chin and moving around to the soft curve of her jawline. Her eyes had fallen shut, her whole being focused on the meeting of my lips on her skin. Deep moans and fragile whimpers escaped her mouth every time she remembered to breathe. Her body was trembling – vibrating – with pleasure. I smiled into the next kiss.

 

“You haven’t seen anything yet!”

 

A week of being bedbound had followed months of unconsciousness, which in turn had followed a lifetime of sexual emptiness. My powers had changed all that; I surged with confidence, and for the first time in my life, I was going to be more than a willing passenger on the ride of sexual desire … I was going to lead. Sucking her earlobe between my lips, I felt her slight gasp against the skin of my bare shoulder. I teased her for a few moments before releasing my prize and stalking my lips back down her jawline, pulling away just before I arrived at her lips. I held my grin an inch out of her reach, her neck craning against the tension of her extended arms as she fought to press her mouth to mine. A whimpered and almost begging “please,” escaped her lips before I sealed them closed.

 

Her small squeak of surprise melted into a low and guttural moan as her lips opened to accept my invading tongue. I relished the feel of her exploring my mouth as I plundered hers, tasting each other, my slow and controlled breaths contrasting her ragged and shallow pants while I eased the stretch of her neck and pressed into her with another small step forward. I pressed all of myself into her. My whole body molded to hers as she hooked one of her legs around my hip to pull me closer, her sex grinding frantically against my leg. I kissed her with a passion and a heat that I could barely fathom; for a few carnal moments, we were one.

 

To her, the feelings were almost overwhelming. She had flirted with patients before, both male and female; it often gave them an added impetus to press on with what could be difficult and often painful therapies. She had even entertained the idea of acting on some of those attractions while in the clinic, but the speed and intensity of our entwining had taken her breath away. Between the illicitness of our act, the intensity of our coupling, and the grinding pressure of her sex, her wave had already started to rise. My kiss burned into her as we both tracked the build of her climax, albeit for entirely different reasons.

 

“Oh shit! I’m gonna cum!” Her mind was screaming! Her crest was climbing quickly; I could feel the wetness and heat of her molten core through my pants, the frantic movements of her hands beneath mine as they desperately searched for something to grasp onto. The hitch in her labored breaths teased my ears. “He hasn’t even touched me yet, and I’m almost there! How the hell is he … Oh shit! Oh, SHIT! Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I’m gonna--"

 

I stepped away, breaking off the kiss and starving her cresting body of stimulus, my teasing and mischievous eyes meeting her look of desperate loss and tormented lust. Her mind screamed out at the lack of me.

 

Her hands slowly lowered from above her head, clinging onto the flat surface of the wall, almost to steady herself as we stared at one another, her frenzied eyes coupled with her ragged breaths to give a look of pure need. I dropped my gaze slowly and intentionally to her heaving white blouse and then back up to her eyes. She understood my meaning immediately. With a wetting of her lips, a flash in her eye, and a misguided belief that she could somehow regain the upper hand, her fingers started to creep seductively toward the buttons of her blouse.

 

My eyes watched as the first two buttons were released, the magnificent swell of her generous cleavage being revealed by the slow and methodical loosening of the fabric, but her resolve faltered as my eyes rose back up to stare into hers. She had stripped for men before, teased them with the deliberate and disciplined unwrapping of her body, presenting herself to them in a manner and at a pace of her choosing, and each of them had been captivated, unable to draw their gaze away as inch after enthralling inch of sensual flesh was revealed to them. She had expected my eyes to hungrily await the presentation of her lacey black bra as her fingers worked the button above it; instead, I looked into her eyes. She had expected the deep inhale as the last button popped open, and she shrugged the blouse off her shoulders. Instead, I looked into her eyes. She had expected me to step forward again, to reach out to touch her incredible body, to delight in the feel of her soft breasts, to rush her to display more of herself to me, to prove myself worthy of her attention. Instead, I looked into her eyes.

 

Despite herself, she was starting to feel an unexpected and alien thought creep through her mind; she wanted to impress me.

 

Her fingers started to move again, placing a manicured digit at the cleft of her bra and dragging it slowly down her body, her eyes meeting mine in challenge. Further south, they ventured, finally reaching the clasp of her suit pants and flicking it open with a single deft move. She smiled inside, a small victory as I allowed my eyes to flick downwards to watch her hand slip into her waistband, underneath her stifling panties, and onto her wet lips. I could feel the jolt of electrical pleasure shoot up her spine as one of her fingers found her clit, pressing her palm out suggestively as she stroked her button, making sure that I could see the movement through the material.

 

Despite my cool and confident – almost defiant – composure, my own mind was blazing. The simple act of not moving was one of the hardest things I had ever forced myself to endure. My heart was beating so quickly and so loudly that I could almost see it in my peripherals, the damp sweat of my back trickling down my spine, and the tight confines of my tented boxers had become almost unbearable. I was more aroused than I could ever remember being. Samantha scored herself another small victory as my tongue darted out to wet my drying lips. Her mind was humming with arousal. No man had ever made her want him the way that she wanted me now. She clenched her jaw, gritting her teeth together in frustrated admiration as my eyes once again moved away from their carnal desires and back up to look into hers. We were playing a game, and we both knew by this point that I had won the first round. Now she was intent on winning the second. She withdrew her hand, dragged down her zipper, and let gravity pool her pants around her ankles.

 

I allowed myself to take in her body, the soft curve of her neck melding into her shoulders, the rolling hills of her chest, the delicate hourglass of her body spreading into generous and shapely hips before separating at the vee of her womanhood to her statuesque legs. She was, in a word, stunning. My eyes moved again, gesturing to the sparsely covered beech desk in the corner. She turned her head, her mind once again singing to herself as she understood my meaning, a provocative smile curling her lips as she sashayed – one foot in front of the other – towards the desk. Perching on the very edge of it before looking back at me with a cocked eyebrow, two words bouncing around her mind.

 

“Your move.”

 

With a bite of my lower lip, I answered her unspoken challenge. With long and purposeful strides, I crossed the room in only a few steps. The speed and intensity of my approach caused her to lean back a few inches, her eyes opening wildly as I hooked a hand around the back of her head and mashed my lips to hers. My tongue started working immediately, forcing my way between her lips to duel with her own, once again tasting the heat of our exchange on it. My free hand snaked around the arch of her back, my fingers oscillating between soft caresses and sharp drags of my nails as they stalked up her spine.

 

Samantha quickly composed herself, her hands moving from their place on the edge of the desk and onto my chest, her fingers echoing the movements of my hand with soft yet heated caresses and almost desperate scratches of her nails as they explored my new muscles. Her fingers froze as I reached for her bra strap. Her lips curled into an impressed grin as my one hand easily flicked the clasp open, and she let the bra fall loosely between us.

 

After what seemed an eternity, my lips left hers and moved onto her jaw, following its line to just below her ear, licking and teasing the sensitive spot with every trick I could imagine, the same tricks I had used on her neck a few tortuously long minutes earlier. The purr from her lips confirmed what her mind had already told me; that I had found a place on her body that few men had ever thought to try; one of the most erogenous that she knew of; her thighs instantly felt the increase of wetness. Her hands began moving in short, distracted starts, each movement dragging them an inch lower as my lips traveled in the same direction.

 

By the time my lips were crossing the boundary between the nape of her neck and her collarbone, her hands were exploring my toned abdomen, and I could feel her tracing the outline of each muscle. The moans and whimpers punctuated her words of encouragement as I ignited every nerve ending that I could find, and her fingers brushed against the waistband of my sweatpants. “Jesus, don’t stop.” She whispered above me. “Please, just… oh shit!”

 

I watched with a smile as her chest flushed a rose and crimson hue, her incoherent moans above me announcing the small climax that rippled up her body.

 

“He hasn’t even touched me! How the hell is he doing this?! I need him. I NEED to feel him!”

 

Her fingers snaked past my waistband, rubbing my bulging boxers for a few moments, tracing the outline of my manhood with her fingers as my lips reached the tops of her breasts. She started slowly working her hand up and down my length, trying to measure its size and her mind trying to picture the moment when her lips – both sets – were wrapped around it. She ground her legs together in eagerness. Her breath caught in her throat, and another rasping groan echoed around the room as I pressed the flat of my tongue against the top of her swell and started slowly – agonizingly slowly – spiraling it around her mound, edging ever closer to her diamond-hard nipple.

 

Her eyes – when they weren’t pressed closed - were locked downwards, watching me inch closer to her sensitive nub with awed concentration, goosebumps radiated across her skin, and her breath hitched as the tip of my tongue swept over the ridges of her areola. Somehow composing herself, she pulled her hand upward a little and pressed them into my boxers, her fingers circling my granite-like cock just as my tongue flicked across her nipple. The sounds of our combined groans reverberated around the room as her head lolled back and my cock twitched and flexed in her hand.

 

I lavished attention on her. Circling around her nipple, dragging the flat of my tongue over it, sucking it between my lips, bathing it and lashing it with my tongue, gently grazing the sensitive skin with my teeth, delighting in the almost imperceptible jerks and twitches of her body. I couldn’t help but smile every time her ministrations in my pants were interrupted by a sudden jolt of pleasure, her mind sacrificing its concentration to relish in the abject euphoria I was subjecting her to. Every time her hand became too bold, her motions too coordinated, or her actions threatened to edge my own climax closer, I changed what I was doing to her. A whimper or a moan, a squeak or a curse enunciating the loss of her momentum on my manhood. I switched to the other breast, trailing kisses down into the valley of her cleavage and back up the other side before starting again. Somewhere inside her mind, she was already preparing herself to lose this round of the game as well.

 

And not a single part of her cared.

 

As soon as she had made her desires clear, she had lost. There was no way she could have known who she was dealing with, no way she could have known that I would have access to her every desire as intimately as she did, no way of knowing that this was a game she was always going to lose. This was how you played tennis without the net.

 

The moans and whimpers continued. “Jesus…” she panted as her neglected second nipple was pulled between my lips, followed by a growled “Oh God!” as my teeth raked across it a few moments later. But there was something indescribably satisfying about the low, almost desperately pleading moan and the lustfully burning eyes as I finally drew back from her, leaving her panting body still perched on the edge of the desk, anguishing in the loss of my touch.

 

Her hand withdrew from my pants in a determined flash, joining her other one on my waistband and attempting to yank my pants to my knees. With a slow and determined grip, I once again captured her wrist, pulling them away from my pants and placing them on either side of her on the desk. The look of anguished and frustrated desire in her eyes curled my lips into a teasing smirk. With a calm, collected movement that I could hardly believe I was capable of, I lifted my hand from her wrist and placed it on the top of her chest, just above her breasts. “Not yet,” I said. The first words I had uttered since our tryst began, then slowly pressed her backward, laying her flat on the desk.

 

With her pleading eyes burning into mine, I hooked my fingers into the waistband of her panties and drew them down her legs excruciatingly slowly.

 

After what seemed like a lifetime to both of us, the soaking wet black lace of her thong slipped off her feet, her splayed legs open to my gaze as I looked up her body, drinking in the sight of her. My eyes dragged along the toned skin of her milky thighs, over the glistening arousal of her sex, over her smooth abdomen, and between the mounds of her chest - rising and falling with each anticipating breath - and into her eyes. They were burning with unbridled, anticipatory lust and no small amount of surprise. She had come to this appointment under the impression that she was going to re-teach me how to walk. Instead, I was teaching her what it was to be a desired woman. Her mind had given up this round of the game as lost with little more than a whimper.

 

I leaned forward, one hand on each of her ankles, squeezing gently as I allowed them to slide towards her knees, my face only a few inches behind them. Her arousal was filling my senses, the hint of flush on her chest and cheeks, the quickening in the rise and fall of her breasts, the slight bite of her bottom lip, the heat of her femininity less than a foot from my salivating mouth, and those eyes, boring into mine, almost pleading for release.

 

But they would have to wait. She wanted to be shown what I could do, she wanted to be impressed, and I intended to oblige.

 

I bent down, dragging my stubbled skin along the sensitive skin on the side of her knee, a sharp hiss of breath sounding above me before I turned my head, licking my lips and pressing a soft kiss onto her warm flesh. I pulled back a fraction of an inch, waited for a second, and blew onto the wet kiss. Another small whimper filled my ears as I turned my attention to the other knee.

 

Another lick of the lips, a deeper kiss this time, pull back, wait for the air to cool my saliva on her skin… then blow. My hands moved to her hips to hold her still as she squirmed her hips in uncontrollable yearning.

 

My eyes rose up to meet hers as I shifted my weight forward, my hands moving off her hips and onto the table on either side of them. Wetting my lips again, pressing them into the inside of her right thigh, letting my tongue flick out to tease the skin before pulling back, waiting for a second, and blowing softly.

 

I turned my head, the same routine on her left thigh but this time sucking slightly as my lips formed the seal before pulling back and giving the cooling kiss a soft blow of warm air.

 

“Holy shit. You are a Sadist!” She announced with a chuckle, one that descended into another deep moan as my lips made contact again

 

Move up another inch, the meeting of our eyes, the lick of my lips, the press of the kiss, the flick of the tongue, the suck, the rake of the teeth.

 

Pull back

Pause

And blow

 

Inch after torturous inch, I moved up the inside of her legs, closer and closer to my prize. The wetness had grown beyond anything she had previously experienced; her folds glistened with her arousal, soft and swollen, a honey pot waiting to be feasted on, and my appetite was growing. I inhaled her scent, barely able to hold my resolve despite the swimming of my mind. The last kiss, my cheeks agonizingly close to where we both wanted the next touch to be, another lick of the lips, another wet kiss, another soft blow.

 

I turned my head, looking up her body to her eyes, the mischief in mine impossible to conceal. I leaned forward towards her folds… and blew.

 

The contact, even if it was only my warm breath, sent another shiver up her spine, one that was chased closely by the ripples of another small orgasm. But the loudest moan came as my tongue pressed between her lips, finally brushing against her engorged and throbbing clit and sending a new tremble of orgasmic delight up her body after the last.

 

“Yesss.” She hissed. Her back arched as my tongue probed deeper, her hands moving from their place on the desk and tangling themselves in my hair, each act desperately trying to increase the pace and the pressure of my ministrations. I treated her clit to the same lavish attention as I had given to her nipples, starting slow and soft, circling it, and teasing. Building her desire to yet unknown heights of anticipation before giving it just enough direct stimulation to keep her sanity in check. A soft flick, a hard press and drag of the tongue, a gentle breath, a dip into her honey pot, drawing her nectar up and massaging it into her little nub, tasting her before starting the process all over again.

 

By the time I decided to add some fingers into the equation, she was humming with almost continuous waves of minor climaxes, each one adding to the pleasure that inexorably built into her first major orgasm. Samantha was one of those lucky women who orgasmed reasonably easily, but even she had never experienced such expert manipulation of her body.

 

It felt cocky, arrogant even, to grin into her weeping sex as I toyed with her. However, the expertise I was displaying was in no way my own. Listening to her internal monologue was giving me the ultimate road map to her pleasure centers. But then, maybe a little arrogant cockiness was exactly what I had been missing in my previous existence.

 

“Down a bit… A little harder… More! Please, God, more! Don’t stop, don’t stop, DON’T STOP… MOTHER F…. STOP TEASING ME, YOU SON OF A … I'M SO GOD DAMNED CLOSE!!!”

 

By the time my fingers made their presence known, gently probing at her entrance, she was almost sobbing in frustrated arousal. We both knew that a little more attention would set her off like a firecracker, so the deep and guttural groan that rolled out of her throat as two fingers slowly pressed inside her surprised neither of us.

 

Slipping past the first knuckle, I lathered her clit in firm but protracted licks. Pressing the flat of my tongue against her and pressing down, dragging from one compass point to the next and my stubble scratching against her lips as my fingers passed the second knuckle. Finally, pushing all the way in, wriggling them a little as I sucked her clit between my lips, lashing and bathing it with my tongue, curling my fingers to rub against the sensitive ridges of her G spot as I gradually withdrew.

 

Her high was building faster now, the last few sparks of pleasure that would ignite the inferno I had been constructing since we began. The quickening and strengthening strokes of my fingers – pushing into the extent of their reach and pressing into her most sensitive of spots as they withdrew were stoking her past the point of no return. Her arching back, her labored breaths, the loud groans of pleasure, the incoherent mumbling of encouragement, the frantic pulling and tugging at my hair, the leg hooking itself over my shoulder and around the back of my neck, all of them were signaling that the inevitable moment had just about arrived.

 

My teeth grazed against her clit.

 

She exploded.

 

The first twitches of her internal walls announced the arrival of her climax long before she could catch the breath needed to scream. Her eyes flew open, and her jaw gaped in abject euphoria as the twitches turned into spasming contractions, pulsing up and down her silky tunnel and clamping onto my fingers, milking the fictional cock with every ounce of strength they could muster. Samantha finally found her voice.

 

"Oh fuck, I'm cumming!" her hoarse voice screamed, "Oh my God, Im cumming! ImcummingImcummingImcummy Im fucking cuuummmmiinnnng!"

 

The rhythmic pulses of her muscles increased dramatically, combining into a single powerful squeeze on my digits, a warm flow of liquid pushing past my fingers and splashing onto my palm. I dropped my head immediately, collecting as much of her juices on my tongue as I could as It pushed past my fingers and coated the rest of my hand. Her arched and trembling body pressed my face as far into her sex as it was possible to get. I feasted on her. Devouring every drop that found its way onto my tongue with a series of loud swallows, my lips and stubble teasing her every time they closed to swallow and reopened to collect more. 

 

I fingered her through her high, my jaw restricting the in and out movements of my hand forced me to simply press my fingers as far inside her as I could reach and vigorously stoke her g spot, pressing into her and rubbing the tight bundle of nerves with such force that, under normal circumstances, it would be almost painful. Her high-pitched screams descended into panted moans as her wave subsided and her high drew back. I pulled out slowly, stroking and petting her twitching sex, kissing it tenderly before gently brushing a tongue over her clit and kissing that too. Her mind had gone blank, overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of her orgasm, her lips purring and mewling in indescribable contentment.

 

Leaning back on my haunches, I took her in. A thin sheen of perspiration covered her toned and magnificent body. Her chest was rising and falling with deep labored breaths, her full lips parted, her eyes glazed, a post-orgasmic rose hue covering the goose-bumped skin on her chest and neck, small aftershocks twitching her body and clenching her abdomen. She was spectacular. It was a few minutes before her eyes cleared enough to look back at me. 

 

 "Get that dick out, Now!" she growled from behind a predatory grin, her eyes flashing with hunger.

 

I stood myself up, taking a step away from the desk as Samantha sat back up, resuming her previous position on the edge of the beech-coloured counter. I took another step back, and she dropped off the table and onto her feet. Another step back, she fell to her knees, crawling towards me to be closer to her target when it was revealed. I hooked my fingers into my waistband as my legs bumped into one of the leather chairs dotted around the clinic. I pulled my sweatpants and boxers down in a single motion, letting them pool at my feet before dropping into the chair.

 

Samantha was hunting. More prowling than crawling, the curves of her ass swaying seductively as one knee after another crawled across the small space between us, her eyes fixed on my iron-hard shaft as it flexed proudly in the cool air. I parted my knees as she approached, inviting her closer to her prize. She licked her lips, her gaze never leaving my crown as she stalked between them, her hands staying on the floor as the circling currents of her hot breath washed over my groin. The first beads of pre-cum struggled to hold their place at the tip of my cock as it twitched against the warmth. 

 

She stopped a few painful inches short of touching me. It was her turn to tease, to take control of the application - or denial - of pleasure. But when her eyes flicked briefly up to mine, there was no hint of the mischief or playfulness that had characterized our earlier interactions; there was a hunger now, a single-minded purpose of returning as much of the pleasure that I had shown her as she was capable of giving. Her mind was still purring, the tingling throb of her well-sated sex consuming all but the most coherent of thoughts. Keeping her eyes on mine, she ran her tongue slowly and erotically over her upper teeth, wetting her lips in the process and sending another tremor up my rigid length. 

 

Her eyes sank back to the object of her intent. A lifetime of porn consumption had taught me the sensuality of a woman keeping eye contact when she was giving head, but there was a lot to be said in watching the implacable and uncompromising devotion that Samantha was giving my cock. She hadn't even touched me, yet the power of her gaze alone was causing me to ache with anticipation. 

 

I tried to maintain the illusion of calm control, honestly, I did, but the strangled groan that escaped my lips as her tongue softly pressed against the base of my cock told us both who was winning this round of the game. At that moment, she owned me. By the time she had dragged up my entire length, lapping the bead of pre-cum into her mouth as she flicked her tongue over my spongy head, that groan had devolved into a meager whimper.

 

Smiling to herself, her mind rejoicing in the opportunity to do to me what I had done to her, she swirled her tongue around my crown, paying special attention to the sensitive vee of my frenulum, carefully flicking and rubbing the tip of her tongue against it. Another glob of pre-cum oozed onto my tip before she opened my mouth and took me in. I sucked in a deep breath, my eyes falling closed and my head dropping back as her lips stretched around me, her head pressing downwards as she slowly inhaled inch after solid inch. 

 

She reached the halfway point of my length when she brought her tongue back into play, rubbing it firmly against the underside of my shaft and increasing her suction as she pulled off. Keeping only the head between her lips and swirling her tongue around it a few times before pushing back down. Another few inches disappeared into her mouth before she repeated her trick, this time circling her tongue around my whole length as she pulled off.  Each movement, each application of pressure, each touch and every ounce of suction eroded the control I had over my own body.

 

By the time she was pushing back down for the fourth stroke, my groans and whimpers had been reduced to barely coherent grunts. The ease with which Samantha had arrested ownership of the game left me speechless. More than that, her expert manipulation of my phallic nerves had a steady tremble vibrating through my legs, my hands balled into white-knuckled fists, and my eyes squeezed open as I watched more and more of myself vanish between her lips and demoted my breaths to little more than strangled pants. 

 

There was a switch in her mind, like a decision being made. I was putty in her hands; she was in the position to repay the torment I had visited on her many times over, she could drag this out for as long as she wanted, and no force on earth could stop her. Yet, that desire to impress me seemed to override the naughtiness that pervaded her demeanor when we first began. The only thing on her mind was an overwhelming urge to pleasure me. Not even Becky had been so single-minded in her ambitions.

 

Her head pressed down as far as she dared without gagging, barely an inch or two of my shaft still exposed to the cool clinic air, her lips drawn tightly around me, her tongue working the underside of my length, and her throat varying the suction as she began to bob. Taking me out almost to the tip before inhaling me back in, her one hand moving up and letting her fingers stroke and caress my heavy balls while the other slid up my chest, her caramel, ponytailed hair flicking around her neck and the strands of salvia compiling around my base as her mouth worked its magic on my cock.

 

“Fuuuuck” I squeezed out between groans, my eyes finally giving up and falling closed again, my head swinging back over the backrest of the chair, my mind consumed by the sensations around my groin.

 

I could feel her mind smiling, even if her lips were too occupied to mirror it. A surge of pride and satisfaction swelled through her body, her mind aflame with delight at the feel of my hardness, the grunts of my pleasure, and the taste of my arousal. Her efforts redoubled. She moaned appreciatively onto my shaft, the vibrations traveling down the length, through my balls, and up my spine as each groan and grunt of my own started rising in pitch. Her head was bobbing frantically now, her mouth almost a blur of motion as she took me deeply again and again, impaling herself on me and practically fucking her own face. It was like her only purpose in life was to bring me as much satisfaction as she could in the limited time we had; regrets about the limits of our tryst – both in terms of time and place – already held a place in the deep recesses of her psyche. She already knew that she would be revisiting and possibly adjusting the memory of our coupling over the course of countless future evenings.

 

“Well then, I’d better make sure this was a memory worth remembering.”

 

Reaching down, I hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her off me. There was a look of disappointment in her eyes as her lips popped off the end of my cock, a longing like someone who had been robbed of their last meal. That was until she saw the look of pure lust and hunger in mine. She sucked in a quivering breath as she grasped the reason that I had stopped her, that look of loss almost instantly replaced by one of eagerness and desire. As much as she loved the feeling of having me between her lips, the throb in her lower ones foretold the pleasures to come.

 

Lifting her to her feet as I rose to mine, I scanned her thoughts for what I wanted to know. If her fantasies had revolved around a rendezvous in this clinic, they surely would include where in the clinic she would want it to happen.

 

“He’s going to do it. He’s gonna fuck me right here… Oh my god, I need it so badly! I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on in my life. Just do it! Throw me down on one of the mats and fuck me til I forget how to breathe! Do it! … oh my god, the mats. If he does me on the mats, I’ll have his god-damned babies! Stick that magnificent dick in me and show me what you can do!”

 

“The mats… I can work with that.”

 

Holding her eye and holding her chin, I stepped out of my puddled pants, turned her body slightly, and started slowly walking her backward, her vastly superior geographical knowledge of the clinic helping me guide us towards the soft, blue, foam-filled safety mats that covered the floor in one corner of the room. It took only a few moments for her to realize where we were headed, her knees almost giving out beneath her as the fantasy threatened its way into reality. A soft hitch of her breath clamped off a seductive purr as the images racing through her mind reached a fevered pitch. Unlike the visions that I had gleaned from Becky a few days earlier, I had not only the ability but every intention of helping Samantha make them real.

 

‘What’s he going to do?’ Her mind was screaming in a heated frenzy as one sordid image after another transferred from her mind to mine. ‘Is he going to lay me down, spread my legs, and… no, not that. He’s gonna bend me over, pound into me like a bitch in heat! mmm yeah, take hold of my hips and fuck me into the mats until I’m a quivering wreck! My God, he is driving me WILD!’

 

Somehow, I managed to hold back the smirk as yet another road map to Samantha’s pleasure was provided to me. My eyes burned into hers as they, in turn, sparked with almost indescribable lust, each step taking us closer to our destination. We each knew that we had finally arrived without either of us looking down. Holding her still with the finger under her chin, I took another step closer to her and once again pressed my lips onto hers.

 

This was not the desperate heated kiss of earlier, nor was it the teasing, eager kiss from before that, this one was a simple message: You are mine, and I am yours. I lavished my lips against hers before moving onto her jawline, traveling up the curve to that special spot below her ear and then down onto the side of her neck, turning her body around as I moved. Before long, her back was pressed into me, arching to put more pressure on my raging erection as it slipped effortlessly into the cleft of her ass cheeks, nestling there as my hands came around and up her body to knead and cup at her breasts, tweaking and rolling her nipples between my fingers as my lips caressed the moist skin of her neck.

 

We both started to slowly sink to our knees, her body leaning forward and out of reach of my mouth as she moved to rest her weight on her hands, looking back over her shoulder at me with wonder and yearning. Keeping my eyes on hers, I fisted my shaft and lined it up with her opening, rubbing the head up and down her slick slit, brushing it against her clit a few times before taking proper aim. The gasps and soft moans had already started to glaze her eyes when I drove into her in a single savage thrust.

 

Her whole body tensed as every nerve ending in her sex was ignited at once. Her head shot up, her eyes wide open, and her mouth agape in a silent scream, the hoarsely whispered yell dropping down to a rasping moan as I withdrew and drilled back in. She had found her voice by the time the fourth thrust had stoked its way into her.

 

“Fuck yesss!!” she hissed as my balls thudded against her engorged clit. “… So deep, so fucking good! Give it to me!” I kept going, thrust after powerful thrust, watching the impact of my pounding ripple up her ass cheeks before interrupting them with a hard spank. Her head shot up again as the crimson handprint burned itself into view. Another few strokes and I evened her out with another slap to the other cheek before leaning forward, adjusting my angle of entry and stimulating her g spot as my cock violently pushed into it, over it, and further inside her dripping tunnel.

 

I had never understood the concept of ‘tightness’ before now, but Samantha’s pussy was gripping onto me like a vice, unwilling to yield as I pressed into her and holding onto my shaft with an unimaginable grip as I withdrew. I could feel every contour of her silky walls as they stretched around me; her whole body, her whole being wrapped around my manhood in a way that I had never experienced before. It was like I had become hyper-aware; I could almost see the jolts of pleasure radiate from her core, the blinding flashes of light that exploded behind her eyes as the series of mini-orgasms rippled in her sex, her panted breaths echoed in my ears, the grunts, moans, and incoherent whimpers bounced off every surface as her mind tried desperately to cling on to its sanity.

 

Her eyes had already started to roll into the back of her head when her arms gave out under the force of my assault, the top half of her body dropping down onto her elbows as I continued rutting into her. Once again, she started feeling the familiar tightness in the pit of her stomach, the sparks of electric pleasure emanating from every stimulated nerve, the steady, inexorable build towards release.

 

I reached forward and grasped a fist full of her hair, yanking it towards me to arch her back, my cock pounding against her g spot with unrelenting purpose on each drive home. Another loud groan emanated from her as her wet, pouting lips abjectly failed to latch on to anything coherent to say. The whites of her eyes glistened as her mind’s abilities condensed to the single universe of her approaching release.

 

The steady drip into her filling reservoir of passion had become a torrent. Each thrust pushed her ever closer to the point of no return. Each tug of her hair, each slap of her ass, each thud of my balls against her clit, filling her closer to the brim. With one last deep thrust, her banks burst.

 

The violence of her contractions around my fingers thirty or so minutes ago paled in comparison to the onslaught visited upon my flexing cock. Her muscles clamped down hard, squeezing and milking me for everything I was worth, her shrill scream resonated around the room as her orgasm smashed into her.

 

“Aaaaaaaaaaargh…. Holy Fuck Im cummmiiinnnggg! Uuuuuuuuuuurrrgh!” She bellowed as her mind finally caught up with her body and announced its climax. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfcukfuckfuckfuck! Oh my god, DON’T STOP!  Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh!”

 

Her breath caught in her throat, and the torrent of groans and announcements ceased as her body tensed for a few moments. Her pussy was like an oscillating vice, squeezing and releasing my shaft with indescribable strength and rhythm. I could feel the contractions ripple up her velvety tunnel, the sporadic twitches jerking her body as she rode out her high. I thrust into her as deep as I could manage and held still, her eyes shooting open as her whole body began to thrash.

 

Her hips began to smash back into me, twisting and gyrating as she resumed our pace on her own. I barely had to move, and we were already back to the frantic blur of motion that we had achieved before. "Oh shit! So full... so fucking good!" she panted out as she twerked and bounced her pussy against me each time her ass made contact with my pelvis. With a lick of my lips, a slap of her ass, and a wry grin on my face I started rocking my hips to meet hers.

 

The sounds and smells of our coupling now hung thick in the air. The wet slap each time her ass smacked into me, the loud cracks as my hand spanked her, the deep groans and torrent of filth from her mouth punctuated by the grunts and moans from mine. Her arms had long given out beneath her by now; instead of being perched on her hands and knees, she had dropped to her elbows during her first orgasm, then simply allowed her head and chest to fall and rest on the mat as she reached back to strum her clit into her second. Another long scream and another drawn out groan announced its arrival as her legs shook violently under its impact. She lay there, breathing heavily, my cock still inside her as her mind flashed with lightning bolts of pleasure. The frenzied desire for pleasure had been almost completely burned away.

 

"I need to taste you!" she announced with a calm quiet once her senses had returned to her, "I need to taste myself on you!" 

 

With a strength that surprised even me, she leaned herself forward, excising herself from my onslaught, and rolled herself to the side. I could only kneel there and watch as she pulled herself back onto her trembling knees, positioned herself in front of me, dropped her head down, and dragged her tongue along my cock, collecting the copious amounts of her juices as she went.

 

I watched in slack jawed awe as the coolness of the air on my glistening cock was slowly and meticulously enveloped by the warmth of her mouth. This was different again; there was no pretense of teasing whatsoever, barely a pretense of pleasuring me. Her mind was alive with lust at the thought of her taste on my skin, how hard I was for her, and how much of me had been inside her.

 

Regardless of her motivations, her tongue bathed me. Exploring every inch, cleaning off every drop of her essence that it could find, savoring it before swallowing it down. 

 

It was with some reluctance that I once again hooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted her off. The single-minded tenderness she had shown towards my cock seemed to have taken the fury and frenzy out of my intentions for her. Behind those eyes, staring back into mine was a desire.. a need for something more than pleasure. She wanted closeness, and, like Becky before her, I became filled with an overwhelming urge to give her what she wanted. I pressed my lips to hers.

 

Our mouths had been joined many times since she had thrown down her unspoken challenge, but this was different. There was an affection behind it, a yearning for something more, something she knew she wasn't going to find in me, but yearned for it anyway.  I could feel that small knot in the pit of her stomach as it echoed in mine... Samantha was lonely.

 

“Not today.”

 

With our lips never separating, I leaned my bodyweight forward, pressing her backward and forcing her to shift her legs beneath her to allow herself to be guided down. With one hand on the mat to support our weight, I hooked the other one into the small of her back and lowered her to the floor. Her legs spread instinctively as I crawled between them, my throbbing head zeroing in on her wetness and probing the petals of her labia without any guidance at all.

 

We moaned into each other's mouths as I sank into her. She settled onto her back, her knees rising to rest above my hips and her legs wrapping around me to pull me deeper. My tongue snaked into her mouth, her arms moved around my back, her hands resting on my shoulder blades, holding our kiss in place as I started to slowly rock into her.

 

Her body understood long before her conscious mind did, rolling her hips to match every grind of mine, tilting her head as her hands messed themselves in my hair, hungrily pulling me deeper into the kiss. But pretty soon, her mind caught up. She had, over the course of years, convinced herself that the affection and intimacy that she had been craving her whole life was nothing more than a Hollywood perpetrated myth, that what she was looking for didn't really exist. But despite herself, she couldn't help but feel it with me.

 

It would never work between us. She already knew that without needing to ask the question. I was too young, more than ten years her junior, nor was I ready for the emotional commitment that she sought, unable and probably unwilling - at least in her mind - to consider children at this point in my life. None of these were deductions that I was willing to contest. But suddenly, she realized something that she hadn't dared to believe before now: if she could find this intimacy with me, then she could find it with another. A new and previously banished concept of future possibilities blossomed in her mind as she pressed herself further into my lips. She wasn't lonely anymore. She just hadn't found the right man yet. 

 

Another orgasm crashed into her. Announced only by the soft squeak into my mouth and the drawn-out moan into our kiss.

 

Once again, the strong muscles of her internal walls squeezed and milked me for everything they were worth, the ripples of her climax crawling up and down my length before tingling their way up her spine. She sucked in a deep breath during a rare separation of our lips before pressing them back together. Her throaty and satisfied groan as her tongue wrapped itself around mine was the only thing giving voice to the fireworks going off behind her eyes. 

 

Throughout it all, her hips never stopped moving; her hands moved down to grab my ass, pulling me into her and silently gesturing for me not to stop. I was more than happy to oblige, rolling into her and grinding as deep into her as I could manage, our lips separating for only a few heavily panted moments of looking into each other's eyes before we reconnected. The affection of our act, much deeper and much more satisfying than the carnal rut that came before, was almost too much for her to bear. She came again, her chest glowing a crimson hue as she pulled her head back from our kiss and buried her head into my shoulder, silently screaming into the newly muscled flesh. 

 

The orgasms seemed to meld from that point onwards. Huge, leg-shaking, breath-catching orgasms could no longer be distinguished from each other. It was like her climax seemed to rise and ebb but never fade away. Her mind was too overwhelmed with euphoria to wonder if these were a series of overlapping smaller orgasms or a single long one, nor did she care. She wanted to kiss me, to taste my passion, to feel the intimacy on my tongue, but her mind was too overwhelmed for that too. All she could do was press her face into my shoulder and remind herself not to bite.

 

I felt it all. I felt her pleasure, the feeling as she lost herself to the sensation, the feeling of being completely surrounded by me, inside and out. I could feel her continually throbbing sex from her mind and through my shaft. I could feel the trickle of sweat run down my back as she tracked one of her own between her heaving breasts. I could feel her lungs burn for air as mine sucked in deep breaths. I could feel her eyes roll and her eyelids flutter. I could feel myself pass the point of return.

 

"Samantha!" I managed to croak out, neither my tongue nor my throat willing or able to produce more than that one word. But she knew what it meant. Her hands pushed me back a little, her hands on my shoulders as her eyes focused on mine. There was no question where she wanted it. She just wanted to see my face as it happened.

 

And, after a few more strokes, it happened.

 

I erupted into her. Rope after rope of my seed poured fuel into the fires of her own climax as another - the biggest yet - crashed into her the moment she felt the first splash against her uterus. Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes widened as they stared into mine, but neither of us made a sound other than the quivering of our breathing. My orgasm still clenched my muscles as I was milked and emptied into her. She took it all, her churning muscles and my jerking cock stirring our combined juices together as the fireworks display in her mind reached its crescendo. 

 

Our mutual high lasted longer than either of us thought possible. My twitching and flexing cock deposited the last of my cum into her jerking and spasming sex as our bodies trembled and vibrated against each other. Her eyes finally fell closed, her mind lost to the abject bliss her body was experiencing as I briefly collapsed on top of her before rolling onto my back. The cool blue foam mat tempered my breathing as I lay beside her. Our heavy breathing was the only sound in the room, the only sound in the world, and we both simply lay there, listening to it slowly subside before we both looked at each other and burst into euphoric laughter.

 

********

 

An hour later, Philippa popped her head around the door to my room, smiling at me as I sat in one of the armchairs next to the window. Looking out over the city, a view which paled in comparison to my own, but was still beautiful, nonetheless. “Samantha just sent through the paperwork.” She beamed happily. “You are being discharged. Becky will be around tomorrow to go through the final checks and sign you out.”

 

I smiled back, hardly surprised by the news, but still somewhat sad to be saying goodbye to my nurses, although I had no doubt I would be seeing all of them again soon. “Thank you, Philippa.” I finally replied.

 

“Don’t forget that drink you owe us.” She winked, “See you around, big boy.” With that, she slid back out of the door.

 

I had spent a long time in bed wondering what the first thing I would do after being discharged would be. For some reason, the answer just came to me. I would head to the Queen’s head, my new home, and my new life.