go down, soft sound

It was cold in the little room they’d put you in. Each surface was white and sterile, and the fluorescent lights beamed down on your tired eyes. You planned to get out of there as fast as possible. You hated the doctors. You hated their unnecessary prying and judgmental remarks, and to make matters worse, your usual doctor was gone on holiday, so someone new was substituting for her. A man, the receptionist had warned. You told the girl it was fine. You’d be uncomfortable no matter what. 

You folded your clothes neatly on the chair beside the exam table, placing your shoes underneath, and clumsily tied the strings of your gown. The material was soft and thin, yet it felt like sandpaper against your skin. You cringed as the medical paper crinkled obnoxiously underneath you as you adjusted your seat, swinging your feet off the table, and trying to calm yourself down before the doctor came in. 

You jolted when you heard the knock at the door, and you tried to quell the ever-increasing trembling throughout your body.

“You decent?” A male voice called from behind the door.

“Yes,” you called back, though it came out more like a squeak, your voice raising an octave. 

The door opened, and a man in glasses came in wearing a long white coat with a navy sweater underneath. His hair was brown and curly, with streaks of gray crawling up the side of his hairline, though he looked young with a boyish charm in his sweet smile.

“Hi, I’m Matty.” He stepped forward, extending a hand for you to shake. You shook it tentatively. He picked up on your nerves. “I’m sorry you couldn’t see Dr. Andrews today, but I can assure you, you’re in good hands.” 

You smiled weakly in response. You averted your gaze, looking down at your feet, only to realize in horror that they were still swinging against the table. You stopped them immediately, picking at the skin on your fingers in your lap instead. 

“So, any reason for coming in today?” Matty asked, head tilting to the side, gripping a clipboard in his hands that likely contained all of your medical information. Your eyes snapped up to meet his.

“Uh, no,” you mumbled, shaking your head quickly. “Just a checkup.” 

“Perfect.” His stare was ever-present, not taking his eyes off you for a moment, though his smile remained warm and soft. “I like your necklace, by the way, but I think the pendant fell out.” He pointed to the small, silver square on your chest. You looked down, and your hand immediately shot up to fidget with it, twisting the metal in your fingers.

“Oh, thanks. It’s supposed to be like that, actually,” you murmured. 

Matty raised his eyebrows and nodded, a playful smile on his lips as he sat down in the small swivel chair, rolling up his coat sleeves and taking two white latex gloves out of the box labeled ‘Large.” You watched as he slid the gloves onto his hands with ease, snapping them at the wrist, bringing your gaze to the prominent veins that trailed his forearms. They were littered with tattoos, you noticed, and your mind wandered, wondering where else he had ink on his body.  

“So, when was your last period?” He asked, looking back up at you.

The question caught you off guard. “Um, a couple weeks ago.” God, you couldn’t wait to get out of there. 

“Usually, we tell people to do their monthly breast examinations when they get their period because it helps to remind people to do it periodically. It’s a good sort of habit to get into. Have you been doing them?”

You swallowed thickly. “Uh, no. I was never told to do that.” You looked back down at your fingers again, wishing you could sink into the firm cushions. You felt like you were already messing up, and you waited to hear the exasperated judgment in his tone. It would be familiar after hearing it from so many doctors before, but Matty remained endlessly patient.

“That’s alright. How about I show you what to do now so you can do it yourself next time? That ok?” Matty waited for you to nod in response before he got up from his chair to walk over to you. “I’m just going to undo these knots back here.” You felt his fingers glide on the skin of your neck as he reached behind your hair. You shivered at his touch, hoping he didn’t notice. 

As soon as he undid the knot, the flimsy gown fell to your lap, and your nipples hardened as soon as they were exposed to the cool air. You couldn’t look Matty in the eye, feeling entirely too vulnerable. 

“So what you want to do is raise one arm at a time and massage the skin under each.” He tapped your wrist, signaling you to raise your left arm. He pressed softly at the skin next to your breast, causing a cascade of goosebumps to bloom across your chest. “And you’re gonna take four fingers, starting from the top of your breast and pushing down. And do that a few times. Up and down, like that.” His voice trailed off into a whisper towards the end. You stared at him as he touched you. His eyebrows were slightly narrowed, focused, as if he were painting, paying careful attention to each stroke. He looked down at you through long eyelashes, and you felt that painful ache between your legs that you knew all too well, clenching your thighs to relieve some of the pressure.  

“Remember to breathe, darling,” Matty said softly, interrupting the silence. You exhaled a shallow, shaky breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You didn’t like that he would be able to feel it, that he would be able to feel your heart rate quicken at the pet name. “And then you’ll do the same thing again, from top to bottom, but in circular motions. Let me know if I’m pressing too hard, ok, ba–,” he let out a small cough. “Ok?”

You nodded, not looking away from his face, which now wore a slight pink tinge. You could feel the paper underneath you growing wetter, rocking your hips forward once, inconspicuously. 

“And then starting from around your nipple, you’ll push outward in little crescent shapes.” While one hand worked on your breast, the other hand rested on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing small, absentminded circles around your clavicle.

He took his thumb and index finger and gave your nipple an unexpected squeeze, pulling a whimper out of you that you tried to mask with a cough. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, and you fought every urge to grab your clothes and run naked out of the room. 

“How about you do the other one, and I’ll watch, yeah?” Matty’s voice had grown significantly softer since the beginning of the examination, talking to you as if you were a hurt animal, careful not to scare you as he tended to your wounds. No loud noises. No sudden movements. Every touch was gentle and calculated.

Matty took a step back from you, crossing his arms, giving you a small nod, telling you to start on the other side. 

You tried to copy every one of his movements, wincing when you pinched your nipple just as he had. You looked up at Matty, hoping to receive some confirmation you’d done everything right. His eyes remained fixated on your tits despite your hand having returned to your lap. One arm was still crossed by his ribs, and his other hand had moved up to cover his mouth, yet you could still see his chest rise and fall with each breath. His eyes looked darker. 

After several beats of silence, he coughed lightly again, looking behind him to find his chair. “Alright, you can tie that back up now.” Matty motioned to the gown that was pooled at your waist. Your cheeks flushed, cursing yourself for being so exposed when you didn’t have to be, feeling like you messed up a second time since the appointment started. 

Matty’s chair squeaked as he sat down, rolling closer to the exam table. “Now, if you could lie down for me, we’ll do the external and internal exam. Are you feeling ok?” He asked. He was always so careful, so considerate. You felt bad that you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth and give a real response, just nodding for the tenth time since he’d come in the room.

“Can you scoot forward for me, love?”

You pressed your eyes closed and pushed yourself further off the table, keeping your legs together as much as possible. You dreaded the moment when you’d have to open them wider, when he’d see your glistening cunt, dripping more with each pet name that fell from his lips. 

“A little more,” Matty said, and you shuffled forward an inch. 

“A little more,” he said again, chuckling lightly this time. However, his tone lacked any unkindness or impatience. You cringed when you pushed forward once more, feeling the wet spot that you had left on the paper against your back. “Atta girl. Now put your feet up here and just spread your legs for me.” 

Carefully placing your feet in the stirrups, you pushed your legs out slightly. Evidently not enough, when you felt his gloved fingers press down on your inner thigh to spread them further. 

The skin around your nails would be long picked off by the end of this appointment, you thought, as your gaze stayed fixed on the ceiling. Matty was entirely outside of view, though you could hear a deep inhale from between your legs, followed by: “I’m just going to apply some light pressure right here.” 

You felt two gloved fingers at the base of your hole. You clenched around nothing, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He probably could. It was his job to notice, after all. You couldn’t help it; your body remained tense and rigid. You were entirely on display, the most intimate parts of you, for a stranger, no less. 

Mistakenly, you looked down from the ceiling to look at him, only to find him already staring at you. It wasn’t a friendly look. Behind his dark-rimmed glasses, his lidded eyes were serious. 

“Need you to relax for me, ok?” Matty said in a hushed voice. He brought his other hand to the bottom of your thigh and started to rub lazy circles into your skin, and you let your head fall back on the table, trying to breathe deeply and slow your racing pulse. 

“You’re doing really well. Just need to make sure everything’s alright.” His fingers pinched your folds gently and spread them apart. You’d never been analyzed so intensely, so carefully. It was a brand new sensation, feeling his gloved fingers pick up your wetness and smear it slowly around your lips. You weren’t used to men taking their time with you like this. All your impatient and thoughtless ex-boyfriends who would barely make the effort to get you wet enough before they pushed inside you. A noise escaped from you as you sighed, immediately bringing a hand to your mouth to hide the soft sound. Matty carefully avoided your clit, knowing the friction of the bare gloves against your sensitive bundle of nerves would only be painful. Instead, he flipped through your folds as if he were flipping through a book, caressing in between them, and savoring each second.

“You’re going to feel two fingers inside of you now, is that ok?” He spoke up suddenly, fingers returning to the outside of your hole. It felt like he was teasing your entrance, rubbing the edge softly, preparing. You couldn’t possibly know what Matty was thinking as he touched you. Surely this wasn’t normal for an annual checkup? Normally, you’d be racing to get out of the room after doctors poked and prodded at you with metal toys. Matty’s hands were soothing, though. You wanted to melt into them. His fingers on your thigh dug harder but tenderly, keeping you still. He wasn’t pushing or being forceful, just holding you steady, grounding you.

You nodded again.

“I’m going to have to hear some words, darling.”

“Y-yes, that’s fine,” you managed to stutter out, then quickly gasped when his pointer and index finger pushed into you.

“That feel go-” Matty coughed again. “That feel alright?” 

You learned from before, muttering a quiet “yes,” which evolved into a loud gasp as he pulled his fingers three-quarters of the way out, only to push them into you once again. 

“This is purely procedural,” Matty assured after his breath hitched when he heard your moan. “Doing so well for me, too.” Clenching again at his praise, your eyes flitted back to him. A stray curl had fallen in front of his face, his cheeks were flushed, and his gaze remained heavy on his fingers that continued to push in and out of you. 

“Just some more pressure here,” Matty whispered as his fingers curled, hitting your G-spot. You brought your hand up to your mouth again to muffle your moan. “So responsive.” Matty’s voice was barely audible, as if he was talking to only himself, taking his own personal notes on your performance. 

“I’m sorry, I just need to feel around the vaginal canal to ensure that nothing’s out of the ordinary.” His speech was almost robotic, as if he needed to remind himself more than he needed to inform you. The slow pace his fingers had steadily set started quickening every so slightly. “But I can try to make it feel a little less uncomfortable.” The hand that delicately held your thigh moved to grab a bottle on the table. He flipped the cap, making a sharp snapping sound, and squeezed a dollop of a clear goo directly onto your clit. You hissed at the cold contact. The corners of Matty’s mouth twitched. “You’re very tight. This’ll help loosen you up a little more.” He took his thumb and rubbed your clit up and down slowly, before switching to small circular motions. The heat that was bubbling in your stomach from the moment Matty touched you had spread up your neck to your head, causing your cheeks to flush pink. 

“Again, this is purely procedural.” His voice grew breathier, inhaling and exhaling through his mouth, causing his glasses to fog up faintly.   

You were giving yourself up to him—an offering, only, he refused to ever take. He only gave. And gave. And gave more. 

Matty continued to work at you with both hands, pulling whimpers and moans out of you with each artful circle of his thumb and curl of his fingers. You attempted to bury every sound you made into your fist that you kept pressed to your mouth, but you were sure he could hear, and you knew it wasn’t really necessary to mask your pleasure when he could feel your arousal pooling around his fingers. 

“Are you sexually active?” He hummed softly as you dripped onto the table.

“Um, no… Not since my boyfriend and I broke up about four months ago.”

He tisked. “That’s a long time. A girl like you needs to feel good, right?” He pushed his fingers into your aching cunt again, completely knuckling out this time, trying to get as deep inside you as possible. “You need to be taken care of,” he added, quieter.

“Yeah, I guess so,” you breathed. 

“Your boyfriend—did he ever touch you like this?”

You swallowed. “No.” You felt embarrassed to admit it, having never been made to feel truly worthy of this kind of pleasure, but Matty spoke as if it were a moral failing on your ex’s part. He shook his head and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth again. 

“Poor baby. That’s not right. No wonder you’re so nervous, so tight.” Matty pouted his lip, but his sympathy wasn’t mocking. This was a genuine injustice to him. He wheeled impossibly closer to you on his stool, doubling his efforts with his hands while his glasses slid further down his nose, but he wouldn’t dare stop what he was doing with his hands to fix them. “Am I making you feel good, love?”

You nodded fervently, unable to get a word out between pants. The noises your cunt was making were offensively loud, filling the room with wet squelching that you hoped wasn’t audible from beyond the door. 

“That’s good.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “When you go home and touch yourself, I want you to copy what I’m doing—like we did with the breast exam. Want you to picture me while your fingers are inside you. Think you can do that for me?”

“Yes,” you whined, gripping the sides of the table so hard your knuckles turned white. You could feel that familiar knot in your stomach, the tension you were only able to reach alone in your room in the dark with your own hand. 

“Yes, what?” Matty pushed.

“Yes, doctor, I- I can do that,” you responded instantly, as though it were second nature. You hadn’t even had time to think about what he meant, but when you opened your eyes to look at his face again, you were sure you said the right thing. He wore a self-satisfied grin while he pressed harder on your clit, causing your back to arch and your hips to buck into his hands. Your legs began to shake uncontrollably. 

“Gonna need you to cum for me, baby,” he panted above you. He sounded like he was doing everything in his power to hold back his own whine. He was losing control just like you were. Your legs fell further apart as your stomach rose and fell rapidly with each shallow breath. 

“God, fuck, Matty,” you cried out. The sound of his fingers splashing against you grew louder as you came undone around his hands, clenching around his fingers sporadically. You melted against the crinkly paper, all your remaining energy expelled in each heavy exhale.   

Matty pulled his fingers out of you gingerly, using his other hand to pull the skin on your mound taut, easing the transition to emptiness. He glanced up at you with his warm brown eyes, which now took on a nervous tint, though he promptly looked away, pushing back in his stool to get up, wiping his glasses on the fabric of his navy sweater. He used his bottom teeth to hook under his glove that was coated in your slick, ripping it off in his mouth. He used his degloved hand to rip the other off and carelessly throw them in the trash. You felt a bit insulted. 

He had taken the gloves off only to take another pair from the box and snap them against each wrist, seemingly returning the two of you back to the same corporate dynamic you had when he first walked in, wholly ignoring the past ten minutes. He acted as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, you looked a mess, splayed out on the table, your legs still apart in their stirrups, and your arms raised above your head. You couldn’t be bothered to look at what you left on the table between your legs, your head being too heavy to raise, but you tilted it to watch as Matty walked to the counter to retrieve a small vial and a swab wrapped in plastic. He sat back down in his stool and wheeled forward again, twisting the cap off the vial and unwrapping the long Q-tip from its packaging. 

You felt like you had done something wrong, watching him pretend nothing happened. You wished you could recoil from his touch. 

“This’ll feel a bit odd. Just need to collect a sample for tests. I’ll make it quick.” Matty’s voice had lost its desperate twinge, reverting to his gentle professional tone. You winced, feeling him insert the rough Q-tip inside you, swirling it around a few times before he pulled it out and dropped it into the tube, snapping the end so it would fit when he screwed the cap back on. He stood up again, placing the vial on the tray next to him. 

Finally regaining some strength, you raised yourself onto your elbows and took your feet out of the stirrups, letting them hang off the table. You had indeed made a mess of the exam table. The fine paper underneath you was entirely soaked, see-through, and ripped. You frowned and sighed, looking over at Matty, who was watching you move with curious, hesitant eyes. Your gaze drifted down his stomach, eyes widening for a split second when you noticed his severely tented pants. 

Despite his freshly adopted nonchalant demeanor, you regained some of your confidence from seeing the effect your pleasure had on Matty. When you looked at him and saw him looking into your eyes as if his stare alone deified you, you felt powerful, for the first time in a long time. 

The two of you were quiet, unsure of what to say to each other next, knowing Matty had impressively violated the AMA code of medical ethics. He ran an anxious hand through his hair, opening his mouth, likely about to plead with you not to say anything about what had just happened, but before he could utter a word, you lifted your leg, positioning it between his thighs. He immediately straightened up, looking at you wide-eyed. You stared at each other as you inched your leg up, caressing his hardness with your shin, feeling him twitch against you. 

“I, um,” he blinked rapidly. “I need to do one more exam, I think.” 

“Which is what?” You asked innocently, lying back down. You admired your own conviction, having never felt so powerful with your legs spread out for a man before.

“You’ll need an ultrasound,” he stated matter-of-factly, staring at you blankly.

“What?” You raised your head, alarmed as he walked over to the large computer by the exam table, looking like a mad scientist with big, unblinking eyes, hair falling messily in front of his forehead, and frantically pressing various buttons to turn the computer on, all while sporting a staggering hard-on under his beige trousers. You had activated a sleeper agent, now sprung completely into action. 

“It’ll determine pelvic floor strength and muscle receptivity. Perfectly safe.” Matty spoke almost monotonously, never looking at you, fiddling with the control panel, adjusting the imaging parameters. He reached next to the computer where the probe rested in its holder. With his other hand, he lifted your gown past your stomach, stopping for just a second before lifting it past your tits as well, and grabbing the bottle of ultrasound fluid. You were entirely lost for words, letting Matty take full control.  

He squirted the fluid onto your lower abdomen. You gasped at the cold sensation.

“Sorry, I should’ve warned you. It’s a bit cold.” He was so careful and slow with his movements before—he was completely unapologetic about his hastiness now. His body was jittery, practically vibrating with excitement. He looked at you with a wide smile, like you had just given him the best present he’d ever received. Your face must’ve depicted pure confusion and shock, because he blinked away his own restlessness, took a deep breath, pulled the chair over, and sat down next to you, laying a calm hand on your upper thigh. “We don’t have to do any of this,” he said softly and patiently, putting his entire crazy scientist act down momentarily. “But I want to watch myself fuck you,” he nodded in the direction of the computer. You were surprised by his bluntness, the curse word sounding odd coming out of his mouth, even though his doctoral decorum had long been thrown out the window. 

“Oh, ok,” you said with raised eyebrows.

“We don’t have to,” he rushed to say again. “Just thought it’d be cool,” he added more sheepishly, bringing his hands down to his lap, fiddling with the ultrasound probe.

You smiled at his sudden bashfulness. “No, I want to,” you assured him. “It won’t hurt, will it?”

“No, not at all,” he shook his head quickly. “Well, it shouldn’t. If it did, then some other shit’s going on, but you seem perfectly fine to me.” His eyes glanced at the aforementioned mess on the table under you. You both blushed at his candor. “Here, look at this.” He took the probe and placed it on your stomach, rubbing into the clear goo, watching the fuzz on the computer gradually clear into a defined image in a cone-shaped frame that teetered towards the top. You felt you should place your feet back in the stirrups, so you raised your legs once again, adjusting your seat and watching the screen develop as Matty watched alongside you, moving the probe along your abdomen until he found a spot he deemed acceptable.  

“Gotta piss?” Matty asked, looking back at you after a couple of minutes of silence.

“Huh?” Your eyes shot to his in sheer bafflement.

“That black spot’s your bladder.” He nodded back at the screen, pointing to the rectangular black shape at the top of the image. You clasped your hands over your eyes, groaning into your palms in embarrassment, feeling a burning heat on your cheeks. He laughed at your flusteredness, looking pleased with himself. 

“I’m never fucking another doctor after today.” Your voice was muffled by your hands. 

“Oh, c’mon, give me one more chance.” Matty gave your thigh a small pinch, a flirtatious smile on his lips. Your hands fell back down by your sides, rolling your eyes, relenting. He hooked a hand around your thigh, kissing it softly. The familiar dark haziness returned to his eyes. You knew now that it was a look of hunger, of desperation. 

Matty’s hand that held the probe fell limp, letting it rest on your stomach, as he moved his chair, ducking under your leg, and slotted himself back between your legs. He brought his hand up to your thigh, hooking his fingers into your flesh like before, yet now, he brought his lips to your skin, kissing you softly. He was holding back—you could tell. His heavy-lidded eyes made him look like he wanted to consume every bit of you. 

He placed soft kisses along your inner thigh, watching you carefully as he did. “You’ve been doing so well for me today. You think you can handle more?”

“Yes, doctor.” You smiled teasingly at him from between your legs, and he grinned against your thighs before licking and sucking his way down to your aching core. He spread your inner lips with his gloved fingers again. This time, licking a long strip up the middle, making you suck in a sharp breath. 

He gathered saliva in his mouth to spit directly onto your clit, and you whimpered at the sight, squirming under his tongue. 

“Perfect pussy,” he murmured into you, in between his soft kitten licking. He was savoring every taste. You couldn’t help but clench at his words, feeling like that was the highest praise you could possibly ask for from your gynecologist. You moved your legs, attempting to wrap them around his neck, but his hands shot up to force them apart again. His hands moved down to grip the base of your thighs, keeping you still.

You trembled against Matty’s mouth, but you needed more. You needed him to fill you up. 

You grasped his curls in your hand, tugging softly to get his attention. He only moaned in response, moving his hands to the front of your thighs, pushing you into his face, so much so that you thought you might suffocate him. You tugged harsher, this time getting him to look up at you with a glistening chin. 

“Need more,” you whimpered. He looked down at your leaking cunt, sighing deeply, forcing himself away from you to stand and fumble with his belt buckle. You watched him unbutton his trousers with shaky hands, one hand stalling at the top, about to pull them down.

“You sure about this?” He asked apprehensively. You nodded enthusiastically, prompting him to pull his boxers down. He hissed as his length sprang out, pink and dripping at the tip. Taking his thumb, he smeared the precum down his shaft. His eyes rolled back as you watched him twitch and throb in his hand. You squirmed on the table, mentally preparing yourself for the big stretch that was about to come. He let out a slow, deep exhale before taking a step closer to you, lining himself up. 

Matty grabbed the probe, angling it downwards towards your legs, returning it to its earlier position. You both watched the screen as it unhurriedly developed into a similar image to the one before. It just looked like a jumble of whites, greys, and blacks to you. That was until you felt the sudden intense pressure of Matty pushing into you, splitting you open. You moaned wantonly at the stretch, looking back over to the man between your legs, but his eyes were glued to the screen, watching his cock slide into you. He stayed there for a few moments before pulling out partially. You both watched him pump in and out of you on the screen, transfixed by how your walls molded around his length with each thrust. 

As the two of you adjusted to the feeling and the sight, Matty brought his other hand to trace slow circles over your swollen clit, and the screen briefly turned to chaos, black taking over in pulsing waves as you clenched and squeezed around him. You both moaned at the sight. 

You turned your head back to him. He was doing everything in his power to keep the probe still on your stomach, but his eyes were glazed over, and his pace started to quicken. On the computer, you watched how your body narrowed and condensed as he pulled out, and how you enveloped him with each pump forward. It was like you were sucking on him internally, milking him as his cock buried deep inside you. Your body was like quicksand, pulling him deeper and deeper and deeper inside you. 

Matty was quickly losing control above you, whimpering, beads of sweat forming at his hairline. He tried focusing on your clit to ground himself, but he was rapidly teetering towards the edge. You reached forward, taking the probe from his white-knuckled hand. He looked up at you with vehemently appreciative eyes, allowing him to lean forward more, as much as he possibly could, taking both his hands and pawing feverishly at your tits.

You adjusted the probe on your abdomen, replicating his positioning, placing most of your concentration in keeping it steady.

“Oh, God,” Matty grunted above you. “Feel so fucking good.” It was killing him that he couldn’t lean down fully and press his body into yours, the long wand getting in the way. You could tell he would’ve rested his face in the crook of your neck if he were able, observing his face scrunch up in pleasure. 

He gave up, straightening his back and grasping the back of your thighs while he picked up the pace, the room filling up with appallingly loud wet sounds that corresponded with the movement on the screen. You watched him, while he was unable to rip his eyes away from the computer. He was getting uncontrollable with his movements, faltering in his pace as he watched himself bottom out over and over again, his tip pressing sticky kisses to your cervix. You clenched around him, and he slapped a hand to his mouth, biting his fist to stifle a sob-like moan. You glanced back at the black-and-white screen, mesmerized by the suction-and-release-like movement with each flex of your muscles, like a jellyfish propelling itself in the ocean current.  

“I’m not— fuck,” Matty choked out. “I’m not gonna last much longer.” His hips snapped forward with a frenzied speed. “Need you to cum for me first, love.” Matty continued to slam into you at a ferocious pace, the sound of wet slapping echoing off the walls. His hand returned to your wet core, palming you with heavy pressure, which felt delicious on your clit and caused you to tense up all over. You had been so preoccupied with Matty’s pleasure, relegating your own in favor of centering your attention on keeping the image clear, to satisfy Matty’s own strange self-voyeuristic fantasy. The addition of his hand between your legs pulled you back into your own mind and body, allowing you to feel the electricity coursing through your limbs, the knot in the back of your stomach tightening, and tightening, and tightening, until—

You both watched the screen as you came, walls spasming and fluttering around him in waves and flashes of black. Matty stared at the image, unblinking, before his face crumpled in ecstasy and he spilled inside you. You could feel the expulsion of the warm liquid, but it was nothing like watching him pour inside you, fucking into his own white puddle that he made right in front of your cervix.

Matty took the opportunity to take the probe out of your hands, seeing all that he needed to see, and falling onto you, panting into your neck. The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, regaining strength. 

When he got up, Matty took a paper towel nearby on one of the trays and wiped the ultrasound fluid off your stomach, wiping away the wetness between your legs. You didn’t know what to say to each other, both being exhausted, and also at a complete loss for words. 

The two of you recomposed yourselves in silence. Matty, tucking himself back into his boxers, buttoning up his trousers, wiping the sweat off his forehead, and fixing his hair. You slipped the gown off you entirely, hastily putting each article of clothing back on. The silence was deafening as you padded towards the door. 

“I’ve never… I’ve never done anything like that before, by the way,” Matty spoke up abruptly. You weren’t sure if he was just saying that to flatter you, so that you wouldn’t sprint to call the HR office. You hadn’t ever planned to, anyway. 

Sensing your hesitance, he took a few steps toward you and took your hand in his, rubbing small circles into your palm, while he gave you a pleading look. You didn’t know what to say. It’s not like this could go anywhere. Laws prohibited it, so it did no good to dwell on the impossible and impractical. Even though, admittedly, Matty treated you marginally better in a forty-five-minute-long appointment compared to what your ex-boyfriends could do over the course of several years. You simply nodded at him, pulling your hand away gently, and turning the doorknob. Matty immediately straightened out as soon as the door opened and the hallway light poured in. You didn’t say goodbye to each other.

You could still feel the moisture between your thighs as you walked back through the waiting room, feeling like everyone could sense what had just happened in the small doctor's office. You hugged your arms around yourself as protection, a shield.