Poor baby, you're startin' to lose it, aren't ya?

Shifting from your place next to him to on to him earns a throaty chuckle out of Robby as he lets you get settled nicely on his lap sideways.

The tip of your nose scratches gently against his beard and you wrap your hands around his neck, fingers skimming the grainy golden links of his necklace. His arms loop around your waist too, hands clasped together and resting on your hip.

"Can't remember the last time we had a chance to do this", you sigh.

"Do what?" Robby asks.

"Absolutely nothing".

Robby chuckles again in agreement. You've been missing each other for two weeks now, living together but always kept apart due to different work hours and shifts. One of you alone in bed on some mornings, the other alone in bed at night. This is the first time in a while where that won't be the case.

And suddenly, simply remembering that makes the sleepy haze that'd blanketed you in the last two hours lift away in a bursting gust.

You're together. Right now.

The most time you'd gotten to spend together in the last few weeks was so little.

Waiting for the bittersweet feeling of the mattress dipping on his side of the bed when he tries to sneak under the sheets without waking you was most of it. Bitter because it always happened fifteen or so minutes before your alarm was set to go off, keeping you from tangling your limbs with his and laze for hours like you'd like to. Or even something a little less restful, like you'd like to do just as much.

Now you have the time but home is still some ways away.

The way Robby warms your skin just by being close might have lulled you to sleep on another day. Right now, it makes you want to peel the layers of clothing between you away. His heartbeat against your cheek and his breath in your hair starts to make your toes tingle, curling and uncurling them restlessly. Enough to make you strike fast and hard.

"Daddy...?"

Robby goes still, his breath pausing in the middle of inhaling.

"Baby...?", he inquires slowly.

You've already given yourself away by uttering the word but that doesn't stop you from pretending like you haven't.

"There's something else we haven't been able to do lately", you tip your head up to meet his eyes.

Robby's already looking at you, his fingers digging into your hip.

"Yeah? what's that?"

He wants to hear you say it. He loves it when you're direct.

Before you answer you make sure to look away to survey the surroundings. There hasn't been anyone around since the two of you first sat down. No one nearby. No one in the distance. The park sleeps, the sound of the wind slipping between the trees and their gently rustling leaves. Even quieter is the sound of a little group of fluttering moths plinking against the glass of the only lamppost nearby. The light it casts is dim and flickers on occasion, the bulb probably nearing a burnout. It leaves the two of you shrouded mostly in shadow.

"No one's around", you tell him, turning back to look into his eyes.

Robby nods slowly, like he's wrestling with a part of himself that's yelling out that he ought to know better than to go ahead with something like this.

"Yeah. You're right about that", he answers, the other part of him that screams back 'well, that's no fun' winning the fight with bloodied knuckles and teeth to match.

"I've really missed you", you begin to squirm a little in his lap, deliberately trying to grind against him enough to make that cock of his awaken to stiff attention.

The feeling that wets the place between your legs is the same one that kept you up all those times. You tossed and turned in bed alone, your body refusing to reward the efforts of your own fingers to bring you over the edge.

He's here now though.

It'll be different this time.

"...Fuck", Robby grits his teeth, jaw tensing up as you shift some more, slipping out of sitting sideways in his lap to pressing each of your knees to the wood of the bench, framing his hips and bringing your face close to his. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck too, softly caressing his nape.

The switch in position makes your tight midi dress ride up and over your hips, bunching at the waist but the floor length wool coat you'd draped over it for the cold keeps from letting your ass hang out. They said temperatures were likely to drop during this time. If it had, you didn’t feel it. Not when you’re in this perfect little bubble with Robby.

From where he sits, Robby isn't denied the sight of your body, panties in full view as he stares between your legs, the way your soft, clothed pussy rubs against the cock shaped bump rousing in his pants.

"Fuck, we're really doing this huh? right here?"

"Right here, Daddy", you croon, your hips working with a little more effort each couple of seconds more than the last.

"Ought to punish you for this, you know. How'd you get like this, huh? How’d my good girl get so naughty?"

"Yeah? you gonna spank me?", you giggle.

"Doesn't sound like a punishment when you say it. But I can't just let you off the hook either".

In the same breath, one large hand lands right on your ass, the layer of your overcoat doing nothing to soften the slap.

"Oh!"

The sting ripples through you, a pleasant bite of heat that has you bucking your hips faster, anything to make more pressure press down on your swelling clit.

"Again...please", you whimper into his neck, gasping with glee when another hit lands on your ass.

"Daddy, I'm so fucking wet for you.", you whine softly though all the feelings toiling inside you are far from quiet.

"Heh, I know, angel. Can feel you getting all sloppy through those little panties of yours. You like making a mess all over my pants, don't you?"

"Wanna make a mess on your cock too..."

"Fucking hell, keep talking like that".

Robby unbuckles his belt in a clumsy flurry and you help him with the rest, popping open the button on his pants and yanking his zip down a little harder than was necessary. Well, he wasn't complaining. With the way things are heating up, you have a feeling he'd be quite forgiving even if you'd somehow pulled it right off.

Only then you notice the way you're salivating, spit pooling in your mouth like a dog anticipating a treat as you sneak your hand under the front of his boxers and get his cock out.

There's wetness, you feel it alongside the warmth and it's impossible not to help yourself to the little dribble of precum that rubs off on the pad of your thumb, sucking it like hard candy, getting it all over your taste buds and down the back of your throat.

"Tastes good, daddy. Can't wait to have it dripping out of me"

"Me neither. C'mon baby, don't tease daddy. Put it in like a good girl".

His hands lift your hips and one of yours rests on his shoulder for balance, using the other other to rub his wet tip against your needy clit, whining like you're not the one purposely torturing yourself as you move it lower. His tip glides along your sticky folds, parting them and making its way to your hole as you slowly lower yourself down on his length.

"If anyone fucking walks in on us, I'm killing them. I'm fucking killing them, oh my god, you're perfect...you're so fucking warm. It's going to break my heart pulling out of this pussy"

It's a little hard to laugh at the irony of him being a life saver for a living when his cock's pushing at your walls in all the right ways. You start to bounce, the sound of a lone car passing by somewhere in the distance behind Robby doing nothing to make you slow down.

Let them see.

Let them gawk and point and gasp and sneer even if they had somehow noticed. Neither of you cared right now.

All the slick that leaked from between your legs makes it so easy to stroke his cock with a smoothness he's only ever felt when he's inside you, a wet smack sounding out every time you come down onto his base.

"Missed you so bad, daddy. Couldn't even stand to wait to get home first...it's sick how much I fucking crave you", you gasp and pant.

"I'm no better, baby", he replies between labored breaths, his hand on your breast as he squeezes it, thumb swiping back and forth over the hard little nub of your nipple turning tight behind your dress.

"Know how often you've been on my mind? you make it so hard to be professional when I'd rather be home fucking you stupid and sore like I want to"

You love it when he gets like this. Like you're this potent thing that makes his pupils dilate large enough to swallow up all the whisky brown in his eyes. Like all it takes for his composure to collapse like cracked concrete turning to dust is a tap of your finger.

"We need- we need to get away. Just ah! just for a few d-days? I can't go back to us barely seeing each other again", you stutter and moan and bounce like it's all you know how to do.

"Yeah? Some…somewhere nice and private...the cabin?", he suggests, skillful hands kneading your tits nice and not so gently.

The log cabin left to you by a generous uncle and aunt a few years back. You feel silly not having thought of it yourself but you grant yourself some grace in the moment. It's not easy to make your mind work at full capacity when you've got a thick, sturdy cock rutting in and out of you nice and hard.

It's a wonderfully cozy and private abode. Thick, leafy trees that tower. Birds that chirp together in a melodious chorus. Soft flowers of all shades and sizes scented like perfume. Maybe you'll get to watch Robby be all rugged and outdoorsy too, swinging an axe to chop some wood to get the fireplace going while he smells like cedar and sweat. You could watch him in one of those thin, strappy sundresses that stop halfway down your thighs and blow up over your hips with the slightest breeze. Your bare feet padding around the wood of the cabin, your lips fixed on the rim of a cold glass of sweet tea.

And then there's all the fucking you'll get to do.

Uninterrupted, constant, unrelenting fucking.

"Yes. No one around for fucking miles. No one to hear me screaming your name"

"Shit, you keep saying stuff like that and I might have to convince you that we shouldn’t come back".

You grin.

"So, we’re going? promise?"

"It's a promise, sweetheart", he grins back.

"Oh god, daddy, mmpf!"

It'd snuck up on you. Your orgasm had been circling around you in the last few moments, finally pouncing to climb up your spine like a long, lit fuse, sparks ascending higher and higher.

When it goes off you squeeze. Eyes screw shut, fingers curling into Robby's shoulders, your knees pressing into his hips and your pussy sucking hard enough to wring out his cock. The result is quick, exactly what he needed to shoot sputtering loads of his cum all the way inside you. Hot and nearing copious. All those weeks of no sex, you're delighted for the chance to drain all that built up cum out of his balls and into your still pulsing pussy.

Spent and still connected together, there's an unspoken understanding that you still need this closeness. at least for a little while longer. At least until you feel him turn soft enough to let slip some for his cum out of you.

"I'm going up to HR and applying for leave first thing tomorrow", you tell him, cheek resting on his shoulder, lips kissing his neck.

Shifting from your place next to him to on to him earns a throaty chuckle out of Robby as he lets you get settled nicely on his lap sideways.

The tip of your nose scratches gently against his beard and you wrap your hands around his neck, fingers skimming the grainy golden links of his necklace. His arms loop around your waist too, hands clasped together and resting on your hip.

"Can't remember the last time we had a chance to do this", you sigh.

"Do what?" Robby asks.

"Absolutely nothing".

Robby chuckles again in agreement. You've been missing each other for two weeks now, living together but always kept apart due to different work hours and shifts. One of you alone in bed on some mornings, the other alone in bed at night. This is the first time in a while where that won't be the case.

And suddenly, simply remembering that makes the sleepy haze that'd blanketed you in the last two hours lift away in a bursting gust.

You're together. Right now.

The most time you'd gotten to spend together in the last few weeks was so little.

Waiting for the bittersweet feeling of the mattress dipping on his side of the bed when he tries to sneak under the sheets without waking you was most of it. Bitter because it always happened fifteen or so minutes before your alarm was set to go off, keeping you from tangling your limbs with his and laze for hours like you'd like to. Or even something a little less restful, like you'd like to do just as much.

Now you have the time but home is still some ways away.

The way Robby warms your skin just by being close might have lulled you to sleep on another day. Right now, it makes you want to peel the layers of clothing between you away. His heartbeat against your cheek and his breath in your hair starts to make your toes tingle, curling and uncurling them restlessly. Enough to make you strike fast and hard.

"Daddy...?"

Robby goes still, his breath pausing in the middle of inhaling.

"Baby...?", he inquires slowly.

You've already given yourself away by uttering the word but that doesn't stop you from pretending like you haven't.

"There's something else we haven't been able to do lately", you tip your head up to meet his eyes.

Robby's already looking at you, his fingers digging into your hip.

"Yeah? what's that?"

He wants to hear you say it. He loves it when you're direct.

Before you answer you make sure to look away to survey the surroundings. There hasn't been anyone around since the two of you first sat down. No one nearby. No one in the distance. The park sleeps, the sound of the wind slipping between the trees and their gently rustling leaves. Even quieter is the sound of a little group of fluttering moths plinking against the glass of the only lamppost nearby. The light it casts is dim and flickers on occasion, the bulb probably nearing a burnout. It leaves the two of you shrouded mostly in shadow.

"No one's around", you tell him, turning back to look into his eyes.

Robby nods slowly, like he's wrestling with a part of himself that's yelling out that he ought to know better than to go ahead with something like this.

"Yeah. You're right about that", he answers, the other part of him that screams back 'well, that's no fun' winning the fight with bloodied knuckles and teeth to match.

"I've really missed you", you begin to squirm a little in his lap, deliberately trying to grind against him enough to make that cock of his awaken to stiff attention.

The feeling that wets the place between your legs is the same one that kept you up all those times. You tossed and turned in bed alone, your body refusing to reward the efforts of your own fingers to bring you over the edge.

He's here now though.

It'll be different this time.

"...Fuck", Robby grits his teeth, jaw tensing up as you shift some more, slipping out of sitting sideways in his lap to pressing each of your knees to the wood of the bench, framing his hips and bringing your face close to his. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck too, softly caressing his nape.

The switch in position makes your tight midi dress ride up and over your hips, bunching at the waist but the floor length wool coat you'd draped over it for the cold keeps from letting your ass hang out. They said temperatures were likely to drop during this time. If it had, you didn’t feel it. Not when you’re in this perfect little bubble with Robby.

From where he sits, Robby isn't denied the sight of your body, panties in full view as he stares between your legs, the way your soft, clothed pussy rubs against the cock shaped bump rousing in his pants.

"Fuck, we're really doing this huh? right here?"

"Right here, Daddy", you croon, your hips working with a little more effort each couple of seconds more than the last.

"Ought to punish you for this, you know. How'd you get like this, huh? How’d my good girl get so naughty?"

"Yeah? you gonna spank me?", you giggle.

"Doesn't sound like a punishment when you say it. But I can't just let you off the hook either".

In the same breath, one large hand lands right on your ass, the layer of your overcoat doing nothing to soften the slap.

"Oh!"

The sting ripples through you, a pleasant bite of heat that has you bucking your hips faster, anything to make more pressure press down on your swelling clit.

"Again...please", you whimper into his neck, gasping with glee when another hit lands on your ass.

"Daddy, I'm so fucking wet for you.", you whine softly though all the feelings toiling inside you are far from quiet.

"Heh, I know, angel. Can feel you getting all sloppy through those little panties of yours. You like making a mess all over my pants, don't you?"

"Wanna make a mess on your cock too..."

"Fucking hell, keep talking like that".

Robby unbuckles his belt in a clumsy flurry and you help him with the rest, popping open the button on his pants and yanking his zip down a little harder than was necessary. Well, he wasn't complaining. With the way things are heating up, you have a feeling he'd be quite forgiving even if you'd somehow pulled it right off.

Only then you notice the way you're salivating, spit pooling in your mouth like a dog anticipating a treat as you sneak your hand under the front of his boxers and get his cock out.

There's wetness, you feel it alongside the warmth and it's impossible not to help yourself to the little dribble of precum that rubs off on the pad of your thumb, sucking it like hard candy, getting it all over your taste buds and down the back of your throat.

"Tastes good, daddy. Can't wait to have it dripping out of me"

"Me neither. C'mon baby, don't tease daddy. Put it in like a good girl".

His hands lift your hips and one of yours rests on his shoulder for balance, using the other other to rub his wet tip against your needy clit, whining like you're not the one purposely torturing yourself as you move it lower. His tip glides along your sticky folds, parting them and making its way to your hole as you slowly lower yourself down on his length.

"If anyone fucking walks in on us, I'm killing them. I'm fucking killing them, oh my god, you're perfect...you're so fucking warm. It's going to break my heart pulling out of this pussy"

It's a little hard to laugh at the irony of him being a life saver for a living when his cock's pushing at your walls in all the right ways. You start to bounce, the sound of a lone car passing by somewhere in the distance behind Robby doing nothing to make you slow down.

Let them see.

Let them gawk and point and gasp and sneer even if they had somehow noticed. Neither of you cared right now.

All the slick that leaked from between your legs makes it so easy to stroke his cock with a smoothness he's only ever felt when he's inside you, a wet smack sounding out every time you come down onto his base.

"Missed you so bad, daddy. Couldn't even stand to wait to get home first...it's sick how much I fucking crave you", you gasp and pant.

"I'm no better, baby", he replies between labored breaths, his hand on your breast as he squeezes it, thumb swiping back and forth over the hard little nub of your nipple turning tight behind your dress.

"Know how often you've been on my mind? you make it so hard to be professional when I'd rather be home fucking you stupid and sore like I want to"

You love it when he gets like this. Like you're this potent thing that makes his pupils dilate large enough to swallow up all the whisky brown in his eyes. Like all it takes for his composure to collapse like cracked concrete turning to dust is a tap of your finger.

"We need- we need to get away. Just ah! just for a few d-days? I can't go back to us barely seeing each other again", you stutter and moan and bounce like it's all you know how to do.

"Yeah? Some…somewhere nice and private...the cabin?", he suggests, skillful hands kneading your tits nice and not so gently.

The log cabin left to you by a generous uncle and aunt a few years back. You feel silly not having thought of it yourself but you grant yourself some grace in the moment. It's not easy to make your mind work at full capacity when you've got a thick, sturdy cock rutting in and out of you nice and hard.

It's a wonderfully cozy and private abode. Thick, leafy trees that tower. Birds that chirp together in a melodious chorus. Soft flowers of all shades and sizes scented like perfume. Maybe you'll get to watch Robby be all rugged and outdoorsy too, swinging an axe to chop some wood to get the fireplace going while he smells like cedar and sweat. You could watch him in one of those thin, strappy sundresses that stop halfway down your thighs and blow up over your hips with the slightest breeze. Your bare feet padding around the wood of the cabin, your lips fixed on the rim of a cold glass of sweet tea.

And then there's all the fucking you'll get to do.

Uninterrupted, constant, unrelenting fucking.

"Yes. No one around for fucking miles. No one to hear me screaming your name"

"Shit, you keep saying stuff like that and I might have to convince you that we shouldn’t come back".

You grin.

"So, we’re going? promise?"

"It's a promise, sweetheart", he grins back.

"Oh god, daddy, mmpf!"

It'd snuck up on you. Your orgasm had been circling around you in the last few moments, finally pouncing to climb up your spine like a long, lit fuse, sparks ascending higher and higher.

When it goes off you squeeze. Eyes screw shut, fingers curling into Robby's shoulders, your knees pressing into his hips and your pussy sucking hard enough to wring out his cock. The result is quick, exactly what he needed to shoot sputtering loads of his cum all the way inside you. Hot and nearing copious. All those weeks of no sex, you're delighted for the chance to drain all that built up cum out of his balls and into your still pulsing pussy.

Spent and still connected together, there's an unspoken understanding that you still need this closeness. at least for a little while longer. At least until you feel him turn soft enough to let slip some for his cum out of you.

"I'm going up to HR and applying for leave first thing tomorrow", you tell him, cheek resting on his shoulder, lips kissing his neck.

Another grunt in reply. Completely unintelligible.

"Robby, honey. Please."

You climb into bed with him, bringing your face close to his where he's got it planted in the sheets, whispering into his ear sweetly while you gently stroke the back of his neck.

"Roooobby. Let's get those creaky bones in the bath, yeah? Nice and hot and bubbly? doesn't that sound good?"

No grunt this time. You worry he's fallen asleep, ready to nudge his shoulder when he turns his head to the side, his cheek smushed against the bed and his tired eyes set on you.

"Hurts."

"Where does it hurt?" You ask, your hand already reaching for his right shoulder. The one that tended to cramp up frequently. The only person he ever let place their hands on it whenever the flare ups happened was you. Only you seemed to know how to loosen those screw tight, knotted up muscles for him. Not even he could get that pain to yield with his own hands.

You've got the gift. Magic fingers in more ways than one.

But his shoulder doesn't seem to be the problem this time when he mutters out a gravelly "m' back" instead.

"Oh."

You're already kicking your house slippers off, straddling Robby's lower back very carefully, weight supported on your knees while you push the back of his shirt and hoodie up so you can get your fingers on his skin.

"Tell me where" you begin to splay your warm fingers on him, fondly tracing a little gathering of freckles by his shoulder blade.

"Everywhere", he answers with a groan.

"How about I start here? work my way from the bottom up?", you offer, thumbs already moving to rub into his lower back.

"Mmm...."

He doesn't give you much to go on so you figure you should keep doing what you think best unless he decides to pipe up and tell you otherwise. So, patiently and with a very careful kind of firmness you begin to work him, so much tight muscle underneath your fingertips, bumps and grooves all about.

You're far from surprised to find the state that he's in. Of course his body would carry so much tension from all the work he does. You suppose you'll let him sleep it off tonight too. You could always drag him to the tub later. And just when you think he might have dozed off, he speaks.

"Need more."

You perk up. "Okay, where?"

"No. Need more."

"Oh!", you think you understand.

"Not firm enough? want me to use my elbows?"

"No. More."

"More?, Robby, I don't?"

"Step on me."

You let loose a long sigh at that, rolling your eyes. "Robby, if you wanted to fool around you could have just told me straight u-"

"Step on my back", he cuts you off.

"What? like- I don't, like, walk on it? I've heard of that but is it really safe?"

Another long winded groan gets blown into the duvet before he answers. You don't take it personally. You know better than that. All it does is make you want to give him some relief even more.

"Yes."

Ah. The short answer.

"Hm...okay. But you'll stop me if it's too much, yeah? baby, I just don't want to crack a vertebra or whatever."

That gets him to snort out a very tired but genuine chuckle, smile lines deepening on his face. It makes you smile too.

"Then I'd die happy. But for now, hands on the posts, sweetheart and let me have it."

Time to see if you've got magic feet too.

You do as you're told, getting on to your bare feet, hand holding firmly on to one of the bed posts. You begin with your left foot, the right still placed on the bed just by the outline of his waist.

For a start, you very carefully press your heel on Robby's lower back, steering clear of his spine. The more pressure you apply the more the man sighs and groans.

It started as you trying to make your man feel better from all the grueling work but you find that somewhere in the middle of figuring out the best way to do it, you've begun to enjoy yourself too. Seeking out all the knotted muscle with the ball of your foot before pressing down and kneading circles on it with your toes and heel had started to feel a little fun even. Almost like some kind of game you'd like for the two of you to play often.

Keeping at it, you switch from one foot to the other, gleaming from the way Robby rewards you with praise for your efforts.

"Sure you've never done this before? no? guess you're just a natural", he smiled, eyes drawn closed, drifting in and out of a light slumber as you give him relief.

You suppose you can't hold off for much longer, genuinely curious yourself to see if it might be more helpful to use both feet like he'd suggested.

"Okay...gonna try both now", you feel like you're warning him more than just letting him know.

Hands holding tight to a bedpost each, you place one foot and then the other on him, balancing yourself so very carefully.

"Christ...that's it. Higher...please."

You're just so relieved not to hear him yell out or struggle beneath you, slowly padding higher up his back, quietly paying very close attention to all the sounds he makes for you, hoping no pained exclamation slips in at any point.

"This is nice", you tell him once you've fallen into a pattern, confidence climbing as you seem to have gotten a hold of this.

"Yeah. I'd offer to return the favor but I'd rather have you as my girlfriend than a patient."

"Pfft. Idiot. You could just use your hands, you know."

"Yeah? think I've got the gift too?."

"You better."

You step back off him some time later, tension flattened and loosened, feet back on the bed when suddenly you feel him take hold of your right foot, gently puling it up to his face where he's able to press a kiss on your ankle.

"Thank you", he smiles up at you.

He sounds so grateful. Looks it too. It feels like sunshine pouring inside your chest through the little pinpricks that'd pierced their way through earlier. All of that sadness and quiet concern now displaced with something warm and wonderful.

Another grunt in reply. Completely unintelligible.

"Robby, honey. Please."

You climb into bed with him, bringing your face close to his where he's got it planted in the sheets, whispering into his ear sweetly while you gently stroke the back of his neck.

"Roooobby. Let's get those creaky bones in the bath, yeah? Nice and hot and bubbly? doesn't that sound good?"

No grunt this time. You worry he's fallen asleep, ready to nudge his shoulder when he turns his head to the side, his cheek smushed against the bed and his tired eyes set on you.

"Hurts."

"Where does it hurt?" You ask, your hand already reaching for his right shoulder. The one that tended to cramp up frequently. The only person he ever let place their hands on it whenever the flare ups happened was you. Only you seemed to know how to loosen those screw tight, knotted up muscles for him. Not even he could get that pain to yield with his own hands.

You've got the gift. Magic fingers in more ways than one.

But his shoulder doesn't seem to be the problem this time when he mutters out a gravelly "m' back" instead.

"Oh."

You're already kicking your house slippers off, straddling Robby's lower back very carefully, weight supported on your knees while you push the back of his shirt and hoodie up so you can get your fingers on his skin.

"Tell me where" you begin to splay your warm fingers on him, fondly tracing a little gathering of freckles by his shoulder blade.

"Everywhere", he answers with a groan.

"How about I start here? work my way from the bottom up?", you offer, thumbs already moving to rub into his lower back.

"Mmm...."

He doesn't give you much to go on so you figure you should keep doing what you think best unless he decides to pipe up and tell you otherwise. So, patiently and with a very careful kind of firmness you begin to work him, so much tight muscle underneath your fingertips, bumps and grooves all about.

You're far from surprised to find the state that he's in. Of course his body would carry so much tension from all the work he does. You suppose you'll let him sleep it off tonight too. You could always drag him to the tub later. And just when you think he might have dozed off, he speaks.

"Need more."

You perk up. "Okay, where?"

"No. Need more."

"Oh!", you think you understand.

"Not firm enough? want me to use my elbows?"

"No. More."

"More?, Robby, I don't?"

"Step on me."

You let loose a long sigh at that, rolling your eyes. "Robby, if you wanted to fool around you could have just told me straight u-"

"Step on my back", he cuts you off.

"What? like- I don't, like, walk on it? I've heard of that but is it really safe?"

Another long winded groan gets blown into the duvet before he answers. You don't take it personally. You know better than that. All it does is make you want to give him some relief even more.

"Yes."

Ah. The short answer.

"Hm...okay. But you'll stop me if it's too much, yeah? baby, I just don't want to crack a vertebra or whatever."

That gets him to snort out a very tired but genuine chuckle, smile lines deepening on his face. It makes you smile too.

"Then I'd die happy. But for now, hands on the posts, sweetheart and let me have it."

Time to see if you've got magic feet too.

You do as you're told, getting on to your bare feet, hand holding firmly on to one of the bed posts. You begin with your left foot, the right still placed on the bed just by the outline of his waist.

For a start, you very carefully press your heel on Robby's lower back, steering clear of his spine. The more pressure you apply the more the man sighs and groans.

It started as you trying to make your man feel better from all the grueling work but you find that somewhere in the middle of figuring out the best way to do it, you've begun to enjoy yourself too. Seeking out all the knotted muscle with the ball of your foot before pressing down and kneading circles on it with your toes and heel had started to feel a little fun even. Almost like some kind of game you'd like for the two of you to play often.

Keeping at it, you switch from one foot to the other, gleaming from the way Robby rewards you with praise for your efforts.

"Sure you've never done this before? no? guess you're just a natural", he smiled, eyes drawn closed, drifting in and out of a light slumber as you give him relief.

You suppose you can't hold off for much longer, genuinely curious yourself to see if it might be more helpful to use both feet like he'd suggested.

"Okay...gonna try both now", you feel like you're warning him more than just letting him know.

Hands holding tight to a bedpost each, you place one foot and then the other on him, balancing yourself so very carefully.

"Christ...that's it. Higher...please."

You're just so relieved not to hear him yell out or struggle beneath you, slowly padding higher up his back, quietly paying very close attention to all the sounds he makes for you, hoping no pained exclamation slips in at any point.

"This is nice", you tell him once you've fallen into a pattern, confidence climbing as you seem to have gotten a hold of this.

"Yeah. I'd offer to return the favor but I'd rather have you as my girlfriend than a patient."

"Pfft. Idiot. You could just use your hands, you know."

"Yeah? think I've got the gift too?."

"You better."

You step back off him some time later, tension flattened and loosened, feet back on the bed when suddenly you feel him take hold of your right foot, gently puling it up to his face where he's able to press a kiss on your ankle.

"Thank you", he smiles up at you.

He sounds so grateful. Looks it too. It feels like sunshine pouring inside your chest through the little pinpricks that'd pierced their way through earlier. All of that sadness and quiet concern now displaced with something warm and wonderful.

Things were still fresh in your relationship. Years of knowing each other should have assured you that you could always be straight forward with Eddie, never needing to skirt around what you really meant or have to choose your words carefully but things were different now.

And in the best way.

Only two months into being a couple, you kept feeling that rush. A pleasant sweet and sour mix of excitement and bashfulness whenever you wanted to be intimate with him. You weren't a shy person by nature. You had that and more in common with Eddie but this dynamic was new to you. Both of you. So much so that you found yourself having to rebuild your confidence when it came to initiating sex. And god, was it rewarding when you did.

You had liked him in secret for so long but now that he was yours, Eddie instilled a hunger in you that you'd never known before. A wild, almost rabid urge you had to rein in for fear you might wear the poor boy out given how often you wanted him.

You wanted to spoil him rotten. But you also wanted to get it right.

It wasn't the easiest thing stumbling through all the endearing hiccups and moments of awkwardness that inevitably follow when best friends become lovers, but you persisted if that meant learning what he liked. Even if there had been more of those moments than you would have liked.

Many times you'd bumped foreheads and chins when you went in for a kiss. Sometimes with bruising force, tender plum purple swelling blooming the next day. Other times you'd lost your footing, having slipped some stray item of clothing on his bedroom floor, pulling him down with you to crash in a heap. One time you'd even kneed him in the groin on accident when you attempted to straddle him in his van, fat tears wetting his eyes.

You cringed and apologized every time it happened and every time he laughed through the pain, completely undeterred and kissing you back harder. Kissing the insecurity away until you started to discover parts of a rhythm that seemed to be working. All you had to figure out now was how to put them in the right order so that your touches had time to linger. Until you could find out exactly how he liked to be touched and where. Without inflicting injury.

You haven't yet confessed to him about how much you like making him cum.

Up to now, you'd done it with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — most times while bumping around in the back of his van.

But now you had something new in mind.

****

You stopped taking notice of the muffled crunching of dry leaves underneath your shoes and the chittering of squirrels scurrying along bark and branch when you found Eddie, everything else fading into the background as he lit up at the sight of you.

It was impossible not to grow warm all over when you sat down next to him on that worn wooden bench, a quick press of his lips against yours in greeting making the back of your neck prickle with goosebumps.

This part felt easy. Shoulders grazing, fingers intertwined as he held your hand in his while you spoke, trying to decide what movie you'd like to go see together. All part of your plan to stall things.

That swirling rush didn't make itself known until the sight of his lips mere inches from your own becomes too tempting and breathing in his scent was no longer enough to tide you over. Your throat turns scratchy and dry as you forced out a giggle that wavers, trying to disguise your unsettled nerves. The feeling only intensifies when you restlessly begin to push back stray strands of hair that weren't really there to distract from the way Eddie's gaze is making you feel.

As weird as it was to feel like this with someone whose known you at your worst and best, you liked it. The anticipation, the fluttering butterfly wings inside your ribcage, even the way your palms would sometimes sweat when he leaned in close and his eyes trailed down to your lips. Because it meant it was okay to do all those things now. No more having to lie about the feelings you had for each other. No more having to bite back disappointment whenever you went home unkissed.

You couldn't wait any longer, raising you free hand to gather the front of his shirt, knee bumping clumsily against his as you shift closer but you don't care about that, pulling him closer until your kissing him again.

It's no quick peck this time, lips slanting over his, lazy but hungry, teeth playfully nipping at his bottom lip, tongue gliding against his when he delves a little deeper into your mouth.

You grow more confident when you find that his heartbeat matches the rapid thumping of your own, flattening the hand you tugged him by the shirt with against his chest to feel it beneath your palm before pulling away.

"Maybe...", you trail, breath short and eyes lost in Eddie's heady deep brown stare. "Maybe we skip the movie tonight?, you suggest with a whisper, so sweet you could wrap a dainty bow around your tone.

"Y-yeah that sounds- we could- yeah", your boyfriend sputters back, nodding quickly and more times than necessary, making his frizzy fringe flutter against his forehead.

It didn't take long to settle in Eddie's lap after that, happily reveling in the way he mouthed eagerly at your neck, his hands smoothing up and down your bare thighs, teasing the edge of your skirt.

"Y' like it?", you manage to sigh out dreamily, casting your gaze down at your skirt so that he knows what you're referring to. You'd started wearing them more often once you starting going out, liking how you felt in them and liking how he made you feel in them even more.

"Isn't that obvious?", he flashed you an effortless, megawatt smile, the kind that made you soften and melt even on your worst days as he ground his bulge up against your core.

"Love it when you show these off", he added with a groan, fingers splaying over your thighs, squeezing the plush flesh appreciatively. Like there was no better place his hands could be than on your body.

The nerves have receded now. No awkward self consciousness holding you back like chains. Nothing but want and desire taking over completely.

"Good, because I wanna try something", you lift yourself up from his lap, his hands slipping up to your waist as you reached underneath your skirt to hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

Eddie watches attentively, big bambi brown eyes trained on the way your skirt bunches up around your wrists, riding up dangerously high, enough to catch a few fleeting glimpses of your bare pussy underneath.

Rouge pink lace slips down your thighs, soft and girly, spying the wetness lying in the pretty cotton gusset before you get your underwear over your shoes and off.

"Hold these for me?", you winked, tucking them into the front pocket of his jeans.

You're never going to see those panties in a decent state ever again. If anything, you're only making the collection of your dirty panties hidden under his mattress even bigger. Not that you minded.

Leaning in, you're able to distract him with another kiss, sucking and biting on his plump lower lip while you pop open the button on his jeans, zip easing down slowly as you reach inside.

Hand slipping down the front of his boxers, you're able to gently pull his cock out into view, stiff and hot as your fingers wrap around it and give him a few tugs.

"Okay...just...let me..."

It was all so clear in your head, a little less sure about it all in reality as you begin to position yourself on Eddie.

Sitting sideways in his lap, you manage to carefully guide his cock, slipping the twitching appendage between your thighs before pulling your skirt up high enough for the glistening pink head to peek into view.

From afar it probably looks innocent enough.

Well, it doesn't look obscene. Just a handsy couple at most, the naughty truth mostly concealed so long as no one gets too close.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, baby?", he asks following a thick gulp, his eyes darting between your lap and your face.

"I wanna make you feel good."

It's easier this way. Better than if you had him snake his cock between your thighs from behind. This way your eyes weren't hidden from each other, allowing you to admire the way his cheeks turn a pretty peachy pink. You rest your own cheek against his shoulder too, savoring every grunt and moan that tumbles from his lips every time you undulate your hips, your inner thighs growing hot and sticky.

The excitement makes your own arousal flow in stringy, slippery slick, coating your thighs to lube you, Eddie's drippy precum helping too.

"Y' know, you d-don't have to overthink it every time you want to get physical", he whispers into your hair between deep breaths.

Your eyes go from half lidded to wide and alert.

"You knew?"

"Yeah", he admits, pressing a tender kiss on your temple.

"Why didn't you say anything?", you ask between your own shallow breaths.

He shrugs, hips still thrusting up into your thighs, not a falter in his pace. "Didn't want to spook you. I like it when you want to take charge...I love it when you show how much you want me".

The most adoring smile takes over your lips.

"You're sure? cus it's like...all the time. I think about us together like this...a lot."

"Yeah? me too. I keep trying to be a gentleman and all but you've been working me up for years, sweetheart. Wanna make you feel good all the time too."

Eddie's earnestness always had an effect on you that never seemed to dim with the way it makes you feel like you're lighting up from the inside out.

"So, you gonna let me, pretty girl? no more holding back?"

You nod, "no more holding back, Eddie."

With one hand firm on your waist, he uses the other to pull up the front of your top, the thin lacy bra underneath pulled up with it so that he can get to your breasts, nipples peaked and begging for his touch.

Your lips fall open for the two fingers he gently pushes into your mouth, dutifully sucking and wetting them well because you know what he means to do, releasing them so that he can tease your nipples.

The wet pads of his fingers circle a sensitive nipple, both of you watching closely as it pulls tight all the way, perky little bud at the mercy of his touch.

"Shit- Eddie, that's feels really nice"

"Yeah?"

He makes sure to switch to the other one too, smearing your saliva along your peaks, pinching them hard enough to make you whine and pout.

"Fuck, baby look at you- don't think I'm going to last much longer with you in my lap like this."

This close, you can smell your shampoo in his hair from the night before, his cologne on his neck and the subtle musk of his sweat as it beads on his skin. It makes you want to lean in closer if such a thing was possible, breathe it in deeper, wrap your teeth around him and make him whine.

"Please- want to watch you cum", you gasp.

Eddie squeezes your breast, bouncing you in his lap while you keep working your hips, thighs stating to burn from from tensing your muscles but you don't dare stop.

"Tell me it feels good", you spit out urgently.

"Feels too fucking good- having my girl's thighs wrapped around my cock like this."

"My girl". Of course it makes your heart swell to hear it, especially in that desperate tone.

"Never going to get enough of this- of you."

"Eddie..."

Curling your fingers into his collar, you hold on tight, so damn tight as your clit begins to tingle and throb on the edge of your orgasm.

It's messy when Eddie's hits at the same time — opaque spurts shooting high enough to hit the underside of your tits, trailing down your belly to join the most of his cum pooling between your thighs. So much more than you thought you could wring out of him that it fills you with a sort of pride knowing you'd made him do it without any penetration.

"Spread your legs, babe", is the first thing he says to you when he's caught his breath, already starting to shift beneath you.

You whine as if to protest and say, 'why so soon?' when words fall short, reluctantly letting him pull your sticky legs apart to tuck himself back inside. It's when his hand slips back between your thighs to tease your clit that you yelp delightedly, his tacky fingers flirting with your entrance.

"So, how are we feeling?", he starts, already pulling at his stethoscope from where it was slung around his neck.

Up until voicing himself you hadn't even noticed him entering the room, drawing a little jolt out of you as if he'd managed to stealthily sneak up on you undetected.

But that millisecond of fright is completely overtaken by your excitement when you see who it is that's come to check up on you.

"Eeh! Doctor Daddy, it's youuu!"

Audra and Claire sit frozen in shocked silence.

This is nowhere near the first time they've heard you refer to Robby as such, the two of them first acquainting with the knowledge of your crush just minutes after you blew up the group chat following your first consultation with him.

So, my Doctor's a total dilf.

Is how it had all started.

But never had you breathed a hint of your affection for him during any of your checkups, even after finding out that he had neither a kid or a wife of his own.

A completely unspoken attraction. Until now.

Robby is the first to break the silence by laughing it off, ever the professional despite the way his cheeks have started to pink up.

"Anesthesia will make you feel like you're singing the national anthem as good as Whitney did. Very common. She'll come out of it in a little while. Nothing to worry about".

"Oh good", your friends answer in unison, both trying to appear as apologetic as possible for your loopy behavior between little snorts of mostly contained laughter.

"Alright then. Let's see how you're holding up, okay?", he says to you.

He leans down to check your heartbeat, slipping the diaphragm just below the neckline of your hospital gown as the chilly metal cools on your skin.

You blink at him as he listens carefully for anything out of the ordinary, flexing your toes restlessly under the sheets. You're pretty much staring at him, tempted to reach for the tubing of his stethoscope and pull his face down to yours.

But that's not what happens. Instead, something worse occurs.

You decide, for what reason even you don't know, to reach for his face with one hand, cupping his chin in your palm while your thumb presses into one cheek and the rest of your fingers squish into the other.

Everyone else's eyes go wide.

"This face....I love this faceeeeee" you drawl, scratching your nails along the grain of his thick beard.

"Oh shi-, Doctor we're so sorry-", Claire leaps up from her chair, Audra following suit as they try to get you to release his face but you're surprisingly quick to keep them at length by stretching your free arm out in their direction.

"Nooo...I love this face...", you whine again, your lips pushing out into a pout as you stare into Robby's slightly unnerved eyes.

"I want to sit on it".

No one says anything for a few painful seconds, your hand slowly turning jelly and slipping back down to plop in your lap. Robby is free, bringing a hand of his own up to rub at his cheeks. Your hold on him hadn't exactly been gentle.

"Alright then...let's watch her for another hour and hopefully by then we should be able to get you all on your way home".

****

Audra had managed to catch it all on camera. Well, just the audio. Her phone had been placed in her lap, unaware it was still recording when Dr. Robby had first walked in for the check up.

There was no other way to put it.

It was so grossly inappropriate. A fucking train wreck. What the fuck had you been thinking touching the man like that and saying all those things to him?

He was your Doctor. Someone who had earned your trust and put you at ease about your condition, dampening your worries with the way he treated you so considerately during your consultations. Crush aside, he'd proven himself to you quickly. Reliable, prompt and clearly caring. He deserved respect and your gratitude. Not some horny, touchy little patient making advances on him quite literally in the middle of him saving lives.

Your stomach flipped and you felt ill with embarrassment as you curled into yourself on your couch, your friends on the other hand, more entertained by the 'funny side' of it all.

"This is serious, guys. How the hell am I supposed to go see him again? I'd rather step on a nail than have to look him in the face after saying all that".

"You don't have to look him in the face...just sit on it".

Claire begins to cackle while Audra dodges a couch cushion you launch her way, burying your warm turning warmer face in your hands.

"Fuck me".

****

The memory hadn't left you for more than a month now. Not even when your friends had stopped bringing it up. Not even after you'd decided to consult a new Doctor all the way across town.

Dr. Andrews.

Sure, he was a competent Doctor. Professional and kind. A wonderful combination in any health practitioner.

But he was no Doctor Robby Robinavitch.

Sometimes you felt this kind of pull whenever you took the bus to work, passing the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center and wishing you could walk in knowing he was in there somewhere.

It was like someone had managed to wedge a little Dr. Robby inside your skull through some unseen crack. Only a couple of inches tall but pressing down relentlessly on your frontal lobe to tsunami your every other thought with him.

So much so that you had to do something about it.

An hour later you were dressed. Heels, make up, perfume, little black dress and a matching bag on your shoulder and you were ready to hit up a bar.

You needed someone else to suck up your attention. Someone new. Someone you hadn't already declared to with zero subtlety about how much you'd like to take a seat on his face.

A half hour of being seated at the bar and on your second Mai Tai, you'd already turned down two men. One so sickeningly braggadocios in his designer suit and watch that you didn't give a shit about besides wanting to spill your drink all over it, and the other genius who'd forgotten to take his wedding ring off before trying to approach you.

You sat there while others around you seemed to be pairing up, thoughts of switching to something stronger clinking around in your head like the little shards of crushed ice in your glass when a familiar voice manages to make its way to you over the buzzing chatter and music.

"So, it kind of hurt my feelings when you didn't come back. Something I said?".

For a moment, all you can do is gawk at Doctor Robby as he takes a seat beside you, that small but earnest smile that you've missed on his lips again.

So, it was no accident that you'd picked a bar close to the Trauma Center. But the possibility of him actually showing up like this? you couldn't have planned it better.

"Actually, it was more because of something I said", you admit with an embarrassed chuckle, your toes curling in your shoes.

"Oh yeah? I don't recall".

You know he's teasing you only this time you don't seem to mind all that much. Seeing him out here in a non professional setting is nice. He almost seems a little naked without his stethoscope and his hospital ID clipped to him.

"I'm uh, I'm really sorry. You were so nice and I, well. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable", you tell him, taking this opportunity to apologize earnestly.

Robby looks at you. Pondering. Smiling.

"So, I take it you've been seeing another Doctor?".

Oh wow, he's really determined to not make this easy for you, huh?

"So, um. Yes".

"Hm, I see", he turns to the bartender briefly, placing an order for a gin before he's turning back to you.

"You look well. I'm glad you've recovered nicely from your surgery".

"Oh yeah. Been healing up nice without any problems", you assure him.

"So, I guess we could say our doctor-patient relationship is in the can for good".

You chuckle.

"Yup, I guess so", you confirm.

"...Good. So, I just wanted to say...your uh, feelings? yeah, they're not one sided".

"O-oh?", you nearly stumble backwards off the barstool.

"Yeah. Seeing you all those times when you came in? got to the point I was looking forward to you showing up. Y' know, everything in the ED happens at breakneck speed. Sometimes literally...but when it was just us? I don't know. Things slowed down and it was nice. I...I couldn't get enough of the way you looked at me to be very honest. You're very beautiful too, if you uh, didn't already know".

He's yet to meet your eye again, having trained his stare on his glass in a way that told you he was more nervous than he seemed.

Watching him take charge around the ED, he never struck you as the nervous type. It's like he's already letting you in, trusting you enough to let you glimpse the man with his guard down.

"...And I have this feeling about you. Really can't shake it. You've been on my mind all month to be honest", he looks to you again.

"...you've been on mine too", you admit, somehow unaware of the way your hand begins to inch closer to his from where they rest on the bar.

"So, how are we feeling?", he starts, already pulling at his stethoscope from where it was slung around his neck.

Up until voicing himself you hadn't even noticed him entering the room, drawing a little jolt out of you as if he'd managed to stealthily sneak up on you undetected.

But that millisecond of fright is completely overtaken by your excitement when you see who it is that's come to check up on you.

"Eeh! Doctor Daddy, it's youuu!"

Audra and Claire sit frozen in shocked silence.

This is nowhere near the first time they've heard you refer to Robby as such, the two of them first acquainting with the knowledge of your crush just minutes after you blew up the group chat following your first consultation with him.

So, my Doctor's a total dilf.

Is how it had all started.

But never had you breathed a hint of your affection for him during any of your checkups, even after finding out that he had neither a kid or a wife of his own.

A completely unspoken attraction. Until now.

Robby is the first to break the silence by laughing it off, ever the professional despite the way his cheeks have started to pink up.

"Anesthesia will make you feel like you're singing the national anthem as good as Whitney did. Very common. She'll come out of it in a little while. Nothing to worry about".

"Oh good", your friends answer in unison, both trying to appear as apologetic as possible for your loopy behavior between little snorts of mostly contained laughter.

"Alright then. Let's see how you're holding up, okay?", he says to you.

He leans down to check your heartbeat, slipping the diaphragm just below the neckline of your hospital gown as the chilly metal cools on your skin.

You blink at him as he listens carefully for anything out of the ordinary, flexing your toes restlessly under the sheets. You're pretty much staring at him, tempted to reach for the tubing of his stethoscope and pull his face down to yours.

But that's not what happens. Instead, something worse occurs.

You decide, for what reason even you don't know, to reach for his face with one hand, cupping his chin in your palm while your thumb presses into one cheek and the rest of your fingers squish into the other.

Everyone else's eyes go wide.

"This face....I love this faceeeeee" you drawl, scratching your nails along the grain of his thick beard.

"Oh shi-, Doctor we're so sorry-", Claire leaps up from her chair, Audra following suit as they try to get you to release his face but you're surprisingly quick to keep them at length by stretching your free arm out in their direction.

"Nooo...I love this face...", you whine again, your lips pushing out into a pout as you stare into Robby's slightly unnerved eyes.

"I want to sit on it".

No one says anything for a few painful seconds, your hand slowly turning jelly and slipping back down to plop in your lap. Robby is free, bringing a hand of his own up to rub at his cheeks. Your hold on him hadn't exactly been gentle.

"Alright then...let's watch her for another hour and hopefully by then we should be able to get you all on your way home".

****

Audra had managed to catch it all on camera. Well, just the audio. Her phone had been placed in her lap, unaware it was still recording when Dr. Robby had first walked in for the check up.

There was no other way to put it.

It was so grossly inappropriate. A fucking train wreck. What the fuck had you been thinking touching the man like that and saying all those things to him?

He was your Doctor. Someone who had earned your trust and put you at ease about your condition, dampening your worries with the way he treated you so considerately during your consultations. Crush aside, he'd proven himself to you quickly. Reliable, prompt and clearly caring. He deserved respect and your gratitude. Not some horny, touchy little patient making advances on him quite literally in the middle of him saving lives.

Your stomach flipped and you felt ill with embarrassment as you curled into yourself on your couch, your friends on the other hand, more entertained by the 'funny side' of it all.

"This is serious, guys. How the hell am I supposed to go see him again? I'd rather step on a nail than have to look him in the face after saying all that".

"You don't have to look him in the face...just sit on it".

Claire begins to cackle while Audra dodges a couch cushion you launch her way, burying your warm turning warmer face in your hands.

"Fuck me".

****

The memory hadn't left you for more than a month now. Not even when your friends had stopped bringing it up. Not even after you'd decided to consult a new Doctor all the way across town.

Dr. Andrews.

Sure, he was a competent Doctor. Professional and kind. A wonderful combination in any health practitioner.

But he was no Doctor Robby Robinavitch.

Sometimes you felt this kind of pull whenever you took the bus to work, passing the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center and wishing you could walk in knowing he was in there somewhere.

It was like someone had managed to wedge a little Dr. Robby inside your skull through some unseen crack. Only a couple of inches tall but pressing down relentlessly on your frontal lobe to tsunami your every other thought with him.

So much so that you had to do something about it.

An hour later you were dressed. Heels, make up, perfume, little black dress and a matching bag on your shoulder and you were ready to hit up a bar.

You needed someone else to suck up your attention. Someone new. Someone you hadn't already declared to with zero subtlety about how much you'd like to take a seat on his face.

A half hour of being seated at the bar and on your second Mai Tai, you'd already turned down two men. One so sickeningly braggadocios in his designer suit and watch that you didn't give a shit about besides wanting to spill your drink all over it, and the other genius who'd forgotten to take his wedding ring off before trying to approach you.

You sat there while others around you seemed to be pairing up, thoughts of switching to something stronger clinking around in your head like the little shards of crushed ice in your glass when a familiar voice manages to make its way to you over the buzzing chatter and music.

"So, it kind of hurt my feelings when you didn't come back. Something I said?".

For a moment, all you can do is gawk at Doctor Robby as he takes a seat beside you, that small but earnest smile that you've missed on his lips again.

So, it was no accident that you'd picked a bar close to the Trauma Center. But the possibility of him actually showing up like this? you couldn't have planned it better.

"Actually, it was more because of something I said", you admit with an embarrassed chuckle, your toes curling in your shoes.

"Oh yeah? I don't recall".

You know he's teasing you only this time you don't seem to mind all that much. Seeing him out here in a non professional setting is nice. He almost seems a little naked without his stethoscope and his hospital ID clipped to him.

"I'm uh, I'm really sorry. You were so nice and I, well. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable", you tell him, taking this opportunity to apologize earnestly.

Robby looks at you. Pondering. Smiling.

"So, I take it you've been seeing another Doctor?".

Oh wow, he's really determined to not make this easy for you, huh?

"So, um. Yes".

"Hm, I see", he turns to the bartender briefly, placing an order for a gin before he's turning back to you.

"You look well. I'm glad you've recovered nicely from your surgery".

"Oh yeah. Been healing up nice without any problems", you assure him.

"So, I guess we could say our doctor-patient relationship is in the can for good".

You chuckle.

"Yup, I guess so", you confirm.

"...Good. So, I just wanted to say...your uh, feelings? yeah, they're not one sided".

"O-oh?", you nearly stumble backwards off the barstool.

"Yeah. Seeing you all those times when you came in? got to the point I was looking forward to you showing up. Y' know, everything in the ED happens at breakneck speed. Sometimes literally...but when it was just us? I don't know. Things slowed down and it was nice. I...I couldn't get enough of the way you looked at me to be very honest. You're very beautiful too, if you uh, didn't already know".

He's yet to meet your eye again, having trained his stare on his glass in a way that told you he was more nervous than he seemed.

Watching him take charge around the ED, he never struck you as the nervous type. It's like he's already letting you in, trusting you enough to let you glimpse the man with his guard down.

"...And I have this feeling about you. Really can't shake it. You've been on my mind all month to be honest", he looks to you again.

"...you've been on mine too", you admit, somehow unaware of the way your hand begins to inch closer to his from where they rest on the bar.

The many lines that creased the soft skin by his eyes deepen at the sight of you, one hand coming up to rub at his bearded chin, stroking the coarse, greying hairs gently.

"Never gets old seeing you come out of there like this", Robby explains, brown eyes full of something that feels both familiarly fond and frisky.

You're left wearing only a smile as you take that as your cue, letting the fluffy towel drop at your feet, leaving it behind in a little heap to step between his spread legs.

Robby's hands find your damp hips first, his fingers and palms gliding along the length of your soft curves before they slip behind, pulling you closer with his hands full of your ass.

You giggle, his beard tickling you between your legs when he presses that big nose of his that your adore into your bush, taking in a long, deep breath of you to fill his lungs. You play with his hair while he does so, gentle scratches along his scalp and idle patterns traced by your fingertips.

"Alright. Get dressed", he looks up at you, his chin propped just below your belly button before you turn to do as you're told.

The thing is, both his mornings and yours would feel incomplete without this. Having him pick out your underwear for you every morning — there's more to it than just that. It's the feeling it evokes in the two of you. The way you offer this piece of your autonomy to him. The way he handles that responsibility with so much care.

He just wouldn't be at a 100% if he didn't get these few extra minutes out of your morning together, watching you tug up the delicate fabric because he said so. The way it hugs you pussy so closely that the shape of it shows through more than hides behind the thin fabric. The bra is just as nice to ogle at, cups so snug your nipples show through even when they rest nice and soft. Your tits not so much spilling out but sitting nice and plump behind the scalloped peachy border that held them so tightly.

It wasn't about humiliating you either. And it was less so about controlling you.

The closest thing Robby could compare it to, strange even by his own admission, was meditation. His attention would be fixed nowhere else but on you. Every little part of you from every angle. Every little dip and speck and spot. Counting. Memorizing. The peace it brought him was incomparable, so much of you to touch and admire and worship. All of you to give thanks for.

"Daddy..."

You call to him softly, his eyes pulling away from the way your panties have begun to sink up between your folds.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I don't think I can wait till tonight", you pout honestly, referring to your usual routine of him coming back home to find the set he'd picked out for you 'ruined' with slick. He'd make your whole evening when he peeled the sticky garments off, ready to satisfy the ache he'd planted in you and left to grow all day.

"Hmm", he ponders back, his hands still squeezing and stroking on your ass.

You wouldn't dream of pouncing him at work.

Okay,

You thought about it constantly. But you wouldn't actually do it. Not in the middle of the kind of work he did. No matter how much you wanted to. No matter how much you wanted to take him by the hand and lead him away, your clean, soft fingers interlaced with his calloused, blood streaked fingers. Worked so raw from trying to heal the seemingly endless stream of broken skin and bone that gets wheeled in through those double doors.

"Could we...right now? I know we're supposed to wait but, daddy I need it now".

You're really not above getting on your knees to beg that he bend the rules either. So much so that you were prepared to make an impassioned plea either with your words, or better yet, with your tongue and lips.

"Y' just put them on, angel. Do you want to take them off already?", he teases.

"I don't have to take them off. Right? would that be okay?", you ask with so much quiet hope balled up tight in your throat.

The little smile he'd been wearing fades, eyes growing a little sharper though none of it feels cold. It felt like the opposite really, a steady heat tip toeing up your spine.

"Ask me nicely. Really nicely", he specifies clearly.

"Please, daddy. I want you now. I've been a good girl. This whole week, I've been good, remember? you told me so too. So, just this once-"

It won't ever be just this one time.

"-could we fuck before you leave?"

Slowly, Robby smiles again, pleased.

"...Since you asked so nicely..."

*****

You keep your word. The lingerie stays on while you lay on your back at the foot of the bed.

Robby stands between your legs, his cock pulled out of his PJ bottoms while he leans over your body. Pulling your thong to the side, he slips his dick under the material to rub it between your folds and your pulsing clit.

"Thought I was disciplining you this whole time...just made you needier didn't I?"

It's long since you last turned warm with shyness at the sound of his wet cock rubbing along your cunt. All the sticky little sounds and crude squelching only making you hungrier. The more obscene the better.

"It wasn't a waste, daddy, I p-promise".

"I don't know. Think I need to be a little harder on you going forward- push your hips forward, baby- there you go".

That makes your breath pause, propping yourself up on your elbows to push your face close to his.

"NO!- no, Robby- Daddy, please I just- oh god - please, it's just for today. I'll be good again. I will".

He almost feels bad. Nearly reaching out to stop your tears from spilling down your cheeks. He's given you a real scare. And all it does is make his cock throb harder.

Clear precum dews from his tip, making him glide so smoothly. Like butter on ice. His long, slow strokes begin to turn quick as the minutes pass, short, frenzied thrusts starting to take over.

"Poor baby. You need daddy to take care of you, don't you?".

"Yes. C-can never make myself feel this good on my own".

"Need daddy to teach you about patience again though, don't I? look at the damn mess you've made. And I haven't even put it in yet."

You knees twitch at that, worry spiking in your chest. What does he have in mind? You knew from experience that Robby could be downright torturous if he wanted to. Dangling what you want in front of your face in taunt and snatching it away whenever you got close enough to reach for it. Making you work so much harder than you really needed to for your reward.

It only made it so much sweeter when he finally decides to grant you it.

But before you can begin to shamelessly whine and beg your way to your climax your throat grows tight, a broken cry scraping it's way out your mouth when your little hole is so abruptly stretched open. The fat, beating head of Robby's cock squeezes it's way into you, making room for itself before he's pulling it out again, only to punch back in with the same unrelenting force.

"Daddy, why?-"

"You're not getting any more than I'm already giving you. Now take it like a good, thankful girl and I might reward you with more tonight".

You realize he's being more generous than he sounds when his thumb lands on your clit, rubbing hard circles on to the poor sensitive thing.

"Thank you, daddy thank you so much, daddy", you warble pathetically, hips bucking, hole fluttering and squeezing his leaky tip.

The smell of you both joined together hangs in the air, only getting stronger the way your juices mix and grow thicker from his unfaltering pace, creamy white soaking you both.

You know better than to beg for more. The chances that he might remove his cock from you entirely is very real. That, you already learned the hard way in the past. You want all of him, every inch, though you've also learned that he doesn't need to sink all of them into you to make you cum.

So when your toes start to curl and he notices the way you fight feebly against letting your eyes roll back he chuckles, thumb working even faster on your clit, your hole sucking even harder on his tip.

"No time for me to shower either. Gonna have to go in reeking of you...what will they think of their Chief Attending when that happens, huh?"

"m' sorry I'm sorry-"

"They'll think I've got a needy girl at home who can't keep her greedy little hands off of me. How fucking lucky am I?".

Your eyes light up behind the tears when his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, pure warmth in his cinnamon eyes.

"You've been so good, baby. Don't worry, daddy will treat you right. I promise".

Getting his approval is what sends you over the edge, your clit twitching wildly when you cum, every cord of muscle in you growing tight under your sweat sheened, goosebumps riddled skin. And in the middle of it you feel something else too, the sound of Robby's strained grunts ringing in your ears the same way your moaning cries are ringing in his. His cum, it's hot inside your walls as it shoots spurt after spurt out of his tip. Sticking, coating, flooding.

Some of it leaks out despite your best effort when he pulls his cock out but you feel better when he pulls your wet thong back into place over your spent cunt, keeping the rest from seeping out too.

Twelve hours.

You wouldn't be seeing him for the next twelve (if you're lucky) hours and that knowledge makes your stomach pull tight and ache.

Seeing your face was all he needed to know what was on your mind.

"I mean it. You've been a good girl and I plan on rewarding you for it".

A little spark of hope pops like confetti in your eyes.

"So take these hours to recover. I promise I'm not going to be as nice as I was now when I come back to you. Sweet thing like you deserves a proper fucking, don't you think?"

You gleam. Counting the hours is going to be hell but you have so very much to look forward to at the end of it, reaching up to hold his face in your hands and kiss him deep and sweet.

The many lines that creased the soft skin by his eyes deepen at the sight of you, one hand coming up to rub at his bearded chin, stroking the coarse, greying hairs gently.

"Never gets old seeing you come out of there like this", Robby explains, brown eyes full of something that feels both familiarly fond and frisky.

You're left wearing only a smile as you take that as your cue, letting the fluffy towel drop at your feet, leaving it behind in a little heap to step between his spread legs.

Robby's hands find your damp hips first, his fingers and palms gliding along the length of your soft curves before they slip behind, pulling you closer with his hands full of your ass.

You giggle, his beard tickling you between your legs when he presses that big nose of his that your adore into your bush, taking in a long, deep breath of you to fill his lungs. You play with his hair while he does so, gentle scratches along his scalp and idle patterns traced by your fingertips.

"Alright. Get dressed", he looks up at you, his chin propped just below your belly button before you turn to do as you're told.

The thing is, both his mornings and yours would feel incomplete without this. Having him pick out your underwear for you every morning — there's more to it than just that. It's the feeling it evokes in the two of you. The way you offer this piece of your autonomy to him. The way he handles that responsibility with so much care.

He just wouldn't be at a 100% if he didn't get these few extra minutes out of your morning together, watching you tug up the delicate fabric because he said so. The way it hugs you pussy so closely that the shape of it shows through more than hides behind the thin fabric. The bra is just as nice to ogle at, cups so snug your nipples show through even when they rest nice and soft. Your tits not so much spilling out but sitting nice and plump behind the scalloped peachy border that held them so tightly.

It wasn't about humiliating you either. And it was less so about controlling you.

The closest thing Robby could compare it to, strange even by his own admission, was meditation. His attention would be fixed nowhere else but on you. Every little part of you from every angle. Every little dip and speck and spot. Counting. Memorizing. The peace it brought him was incomparable, so much of you to touch and admire and worship. All of you to give thanks for.

"Daddy..."

You call to him softly, his eyes pulling away from the way your panties have begun to sink up between your folds.

"Yeah, baby?"

"I don't think I can wait till tonight", you pout honestly, referring to your usual routine of him coming back home to find the set he'd picked out for you 'ruined' with slick. He'd make your whole evening when he peeled the sticky garments off, ready to satisfy the ache he'd planted in you and left to grow all day.

"Hmm", he ponders back, his hands still squeezing and stroking on your ass.

You wouldn't dream of pouncing him at work.

Okay,

You thought about it constantly. But you wouldn't actually do it. Not in the middle of the kind of work he did. No matter how much you wanted to. No matter how much you wanted to take him by the hand and lead him away, your clean, soft fingers interlaced with his calloused, blood streaked fingers. Worked so raw from trying to heal the seemingly endless stream of broken skin and bone that gets wheeled in through those double doors.

"Could we...right now? I know we're supposed to wait but, daddy I need it now".

You're really not above getting on your knees to beg that he bend the rules either. So much so that you were prepared to make an impassioned plea either with your words, or better yet, with your tongue and lips.

"Y' just put them on, angel. Do you want to take them off already?", he teases.

"I don't have to take them off. Right? would that be okay?", you ask with so much quiet hope balled up tight in your throat.

The little smile he'd been wearing fades, eyes growing a little sharper though none of it feels cold. It felt like the opposite really, a steady heat tip toeing up your spine.

"Ask me nicely. Really nicely", he specifies clearly.

"Please, daddy. I want you now. I've been a good girl. This whole week, I've been good, remember? you told me so too. So, just this once-"

It won't ever be just this one time.

"-could we fuck before you leave?"

Slowly, Robby smiles again, pleased.

"...Since you asked so nicely..."

*****

You keep your word. The lingerie stays on while you lay on your back at the foot of the bed.

Robby stands between your legs, his cock pulled out of his PJ bottoms while he leans over your body. Pulling your thong to the side, he slips his dick under the material to rub it between your folds and your pulsing clit.

"Thought I was disciplining you this whole time...just made you needier didn't I?"

It's long since you last turned warm with shyness at the sound of his wet cock rubbing along your cunt. All the sticky little sounds and crude squelching only making you hungrier. The more obscene the better.

"It wasn't a waste, daddy, I p-promise".

"I don't know. Think I need to be a little harder on you going forward- push your hips forward, baby- there you go".

That makes your breath pause, propping yourself up on your elbows to push your face close to his.

"NO!- no, Robby- Daddy, please I just- oh god - please, it's just for today. I'll be good again. I will".

He almost feels bad. Nearly reaching out to stop your tears from spilling down your cheeks. He's given you a real scare. And all it does is make his cock throb harder.

Clear precum dews from his tip, making him glide so smoothly. Like butter on ice. His long, slow strokes begin to turn quick as the minutes pass, short, frenzied thrusts starting to take over.

"Poor baby. You need daddy to take care of you, don't you?".

"Yes. C-can never make myself feel this good on my own".

"Need daddy to teach you about patience again though, don't I? look at the damn mess you've made. And I haven't even put it in yet."

You knees twitch at that, worry spiking in your chest. What does he have in mind? You knew from experience that Robby could be downright torturous if he wanted to. Dangling what you want in front of your face in taunt and snatching it away whenever you got close enough to reach for it. Making you work so much harder than you really needed to for your reward.

It only made it so much sweeter when he finally decides to grant you it.

But before you can begin to shamelessly whine and beg your way to your climax your throat grows tight, a broken cry scraping it's way out your mouth when your little hole is so abruptly stretched open. The fat, beating head of Robby's cock squeezes it's way into you, making room for itself before he's pulling it out again, only to punch back in with the same unrelenting force.

"Daddy, why?-"

"You're not getting any more than I'm already giving you. Now take it like a good, thankful girl and I might reward you with more tonight".

You realize he's being more generous than he sounds when his thumb lands on your clit, rubbing hard circles on to the poor sensitive thing.

"Thank you, daddy thank you so much, daddy", you warble pathetically, hips bucking, hole fluttering and squeezing his leaky tip.

The smell of you both joined together hangs in the air, only getting stronger the way your juices mix and grow thicker from his unfaltering pace, creamy white soaking you both.

You know better than to beg for more. The chances that he might remove his cock from you entirely is very real. That, you already learned the hard way in the past. You want all of him, every inch, though you've also learned that he doesn't need to sink all of them into you to make you cum.

So when your toes start to curl and he notices the way you fight feebly against letting your eyes roll back he chuckles, thumb working even faster on your clit, your hole sucking even harder on his tip.

"No time for me to shower either. Gonna have to go in reeking of you...what will they think of their Chief Attending when that happens, huh?"

"m' sorry I'm sorry-"

"They'll think I've got a needy girl at home who can't keep her greedy little hands off of me. How fucking lucky am I?".

Your eyes light up behind the tears when his hand comes up to cup the side of your face, pure warmth in his cinnamon eyes.

"You've been so good, baby. Don't worry, daddy will treat you right. I promise".

Getting his approval is what sends you over the edge, your clit twitching wildly when you cum, every cord of muscle in you growing tight under your sweat sheened, goosebumps riddled skin. And in the middle of it you feel something else too, the sound of Robby's strained grunts ringing in your ears the same way your moaning cries are ringing in his. His cum, it's hot inside your walls as it shoots spurt after spurt out of his tip. Sticking, coating, flooding.

Some of it leaks out despite your best effort when he pulls his cock out but you feel better when he pulls your wet thong back into place over your spent cunt, keeping the rest from seeping out too.

Twelve hours.

You wouldn't be seeing him for the next twelve (if you're lucky) hours and that knowledge makes your stomach pull tight and ache.

Seeing your face was all he needed to know what was on your mind.

"I mean it. You've been a good girl and I plan on rewarding you for it".

A little spark of hope pops like confetti in your eyes.

"So take these hours to recover. I promise I'm not going to be as nice as I was now when I come back to you. Sweet thing like you deserves a proper fucking, don't you think?"

You gleam. Counting the hours is going to be hell but you have so very much to look forward to at the end of it, reaching up to hold his face in your hands and kiss him deep and sweet.

So now here you were, a crackling carpet of brittle yellowed and browned leaves crunching under your converse as you try to figure out the best way to go about retrieving your purse, hoping she hadn't also swiped any of the money inside it.

Looking around, you can't seem to spot a stick long enough to try and dislodge it, all of them far too short and skinny like bony witch fingers. The few rocks you try to aim at the thing missed every time too, purse still firmly in place.

So, you knew what needed to be done.

It's been a while since you last scaled a tree but you haven't forgotten how, hiking the skirt of your flared midi dress higher up your thighs while you reach for the closest branch, dry bark crumbling in your palms.

You're as careful as can be, taking your time to test every branch before you bear your full weight down on it, winding your way higher and higher up the thick gray trunk as you remind yourself to not look down.

Sweat beads down your back making your dress stick to your skin and your hands began to feel raw halfway through the climb so the relief you feel when you finally reach your purse is immense. Freeing one hand to pop open the clasp, you're able to confirm that Carol had in fact pinched a 50 which you very much intend to get back with interest before you toss her purse into the middle of lovers lake.

Clamping your teeth down on your purse, you begin your descent, following the exact path you took to get up it only you make it just a few inches lower when you hear a distinct dry snap followed by the shifty sound of footsteps. Two sets of footsteps making their way through the fallen leaves in fact.

Quietly, you sit yourself down on a thick branch that looks strong enough to hold you up, your legs dangling as you try to remain hidden behind the greener leaves yet to turn a shriveled yellow and break off from its branches. The thought of being caught like this is something you're not keen on. Especially at the risk of giving whoever it is an unobstructed up skirt view of your panties.

You hold your breath until they comes into view, recognition dawning on you when you set your eyes on the familiar combo of leather and denim and a very distinct tumbleweed of wild hair.

Eddie Munson, your old classmate and some letter jacket meat slab following in tow. The two of them sit across from each other at the formerly vacant wooden table and bench below, the tinny sound of Eddie's lunchbox echoing all the way up to your ears when he sets it down between them.

You watch quietly and closely at them going back and forth when Eddie quotes his price for a considerably large portion of the devil's lettuce all wrapped up in a thin, flimsy little plastic bag, a little amused seeing him all business and no jokes or smiles. There must be a party happening tonight, you deduce, that much weed too much for just the one person, even for a guy as big and hulking as Eddie's new customer.

The meat slab is the first to leave after digging through his pockets for a few extra dollars until Eddie hands him the stuff, trudging away through the crisp layer of dried up leaves until his footsteps turn muffled and then completely silent to let you know that he's no longer in the woods.

Eddie lingers for a few moments, apparently in no kind of rush as he takes his time closing up the lunch box, pulling out a cigarette and lighter as he gets up from the bench, just about to pass by your tree when-

crack!

The branch you'd perched yourself on wasn't as strong as you thought it to be when it snaps, a choked scream stuck in your throat with your teeth still wrapped around your purse when you lose your balance, your eyes squeezing shut as you plummet.

The impact knocks the wind out of you at first. Luckily you hadn't hit any of the other branches on your way down but a pulsing dull ache weaves it's way through your muscles, your palms and knees dirty and scraped up but your face seems to have landed on something much softer.

When you try to pick yourself up, you find yourself face to face with a pair of black denim jeans, the zipper somehow upside down as your hands press down on a pair of meaty thighs while you try to steady yourself.

You rock back just a bit, still trying to figure it all out with your head all spinny when feel your clothed pussy come to rest on something hard, a puff of hot air blown right into your panties with a muffled exclamation sounding out.

The way you scramble away is almost comical, so frantic like a severed gecko's tail when you figure out that you'd fallen right on top of Eddie, your face in his crotch and his in yours.

"Oh my god oh my god, I didn't mean to- are you okay? Eddie I'm so sorry!"

He's far less jittery than you are, propping himself up on his elbows with a little groan, leaves tangled in his hair, his lunchbox knocked onto its side behind him. The fall had made him bite his cigarette in two, one end lying on the forest floor before it's joined by the other when Eddie spits it out of his mouth. You manage to find his lighter nearby, picking it up and handing it back to him.

"Still in one piece", he pats his chest and he huffs a laugh, placing the lighter back inside his jacket pocket. "Could get used to this. It's not everyday that it rains pretty women."

The flirt. Just as he'd been with you in high school though you're not sure whether to be charmed or embarrassed given the circumstances. So both emotions manage to sneak in before you can decide on which one.

"I- my purse- Carol, see she tried to shoplift, right? I caught her and so my purse-", you find it just behind you, holding it up in front of Eddie's face as you continue to explain. "She lifted it before I could notice and she tossed it all the way up there," you point up at the spot you fell down from. "I slipped. I tried to stay quiet while you were busy but the branch broke and my foot slipped and..."

And what? "I'm sorry I sat on your face, Eddie? It won't happen again?" God, you felt so stupid right now.

"Woah woah, take a breath. It's not like I'm going to press charges or anything", he assures you.

You knew he wouldn't do anything of the sort. Eddie was always nice to you. Still is it seems, even after you so rudely and abruptly body slammed into him so damn hard. Maybe your luck's starting to turn. Or maybe it's just because he's in a good mood after a big sale... Yeah, that must be it.

Feeling a little better about the whole thing, you manage to get yourself back on to your feet even if a little unsteadily, holding a hand out to Eddie so you can help him up too. He accepts it at first but when his eyes fall to your knees his hand slips free from yours.

"You're bleeding", he notices.

Looking down, you see that he's right, two open cuts on both knees. Nothing serious but the blood is yet to clot, trailing down your legs in thin red lines and staining your socks.

You don't have anything on you to help dab it with, looking around when Eddie begins to shed his denim vest.

"It's clean, promise. Took it out of the laundry this morning"

The gesture is so sweet, watching him attentively as he kneels at your feet. You attempt to help too, picking the leaves out of his hair because it's the least you could do while he carefully cleans away the dirt on your skin. The feeling of his hand wrapping around your calf to steady himself is nice too, pressing the denim against your wounds so gently that you barely hiss at the sting.

"Doesn't look too bad. That's a good thing. You always had nice legs".

Your face could not feel any hotter than it already feels right now. At this angle, he might even be able to catch another glimpse or two up your skirt again but this time you don't mind at all. He's earned it.

"Thanks", you tell him with a smile, your toes curling in your socks because there's something so nice about being taken care of after the the whole thing with Carol that it makes you want to shiver with delight.

In the past you knew not to take him too seriously just in case he was only being nice to you but at the same time, Eddie was never one to be shy or less than honest about what he thought or said. Maybe you just had trouble accepting that and in turn, accepting that you were more than deserving of that kind of attention.

"You shouldn't be walking around like this. I could give you a ride if you're cool with that", he offers when he looks back up at you, the deep brown of his eyes now a light cinnamon with the sun spilling down on his face from between the branches.

"Yeah, I'd really appreciate that", you accept eagerly.

The drive back to yours is more than pleasant, though you'd never actually lost touch it was nice for two high school friends like you to reconnect on a new level. Eddie even joins you in trashing Carol a bit too though now you feel you might actually owe that thieving venom spitting cobra of a woman a little thank you.

What were the chances of this all happening? the both of you in the same place at the same time, your branch giving way the exact moment he got closer to you? no sooner, no later. Whatever the reason might be, today feels kind of special.

"Sorry I messed up your vest", you hold up the bloody thing tentatively when he pulls up outside your house.

"You kidding? 's the best its ever looked. Pretty hardcore"

You giggle at that, part of you realizing that you don't want to leave his van, trying to stall and find a reason to stay a little longer and keep whatever this is becoming going.

Eddie looks back at you pensively as you do so.

He doesn't want you to leave either. He thinks about how absurdly fast he'd gone from securing a deal like any other day to having his nose buried in your panties out of nowhere. If he doesn't act just as fast he might never get this opportunity again.

"Y' know, I wouldn't mind seeing even more of you next time", he smiles, somehow coming on more sweetly suave than sleazy like you would find any other man who would say so.

"Eddie Munson, you hound", you play scold him back, swatting him gently on the arm. Any excuse to touch him. You can't help noticing how nice and firm it feels under that dark layer of leather.

Honestly, Eddie's a little surprised himself that his charm's actually working too but manages to keep it up.

"So, what do you say? dinner? movie?", he suggests hopefully.

So, figuring out that he used women's shampoo shouldn't have been the revelation that it was because it made so much sense, his tresses never scented with a wintry pine or spicy cedarwood like most scent profiles marketed to men.

You had your friends to thank for your stumbling upon that discovery, the group of them arriving at your home to bully you out of your PJ's and into a pair of jeans and shoes, uprooting you from your room on a Saturday afternoon for an outing to the fancy part of the mall.

While they searched for new make-up, you wandered a section of the store by yourself, uncapping the pretty bottles in the hair care aisle whenever the sales assistants' attention wandered elsewhere, squeezing each one carefully to sample the array of scents. You did this idly and with no real plans to purchase anything, just something to pass the time while your friends crowded another display a few aisles away, chattering blissfully and swatching lipsticks.

Picking up a fifth shampoo from the lineup of bottles, you brought the uncapped rim up to your face, lightly skimming your cupids bow with it as you gently inhaled. While fun, you'd spent most of your time at the mall feeling a little bored, a small part of you still desiring to go back home where you could lounge and laze in peace. That was until you began to recognize the scent of the newest shampoo you had clutched in your hand, the familiarity of it triggering a whirlpool of memories.

In seconds, your mind plunged back to the night of Jack Sullivan's graduation party. The first time Steve Harrington had spoken to you – really spoken to you since he’d parted ways with Carol and Tommy, seeming much more approachable than he had in the past.

The two of you had ended up sharing the patio swing outside where the air wasn't as thick with smoke and the smell of spilled booze. Making conversation, he offered you a beer he'd originally intended to give Robin before she'd slipped away into one of the guest bathrooms with your best friend Sally. You both knew why, sharing a look of understanding but never mentioning the obvious out loud out of loyalty to your friends.

Then there was the only day it rained in July, remembering the way your fingers brushed against his as you handed him your umbrella. You'd discovered him taking refuge under the awning of the diner you worked at that morning, face twisted all worrisome as he looked up from his wristwatch to the downpour in front of him, forced into walking to work that day due to his car still being in the shop. The only light that shone that day was the gleaming smile he gave you when he thanked you for your kindness.

And then there was the time when you had your head down while scanning a tape at Family Video, bumping face first into Steve's chest when you rounded the corner, his name tag catching on your bottom lip. It was the tiniest sliver of a cut, barely noticeable or painful but oh, how he fussed over you like you were made of porcelain. He’d gone so far as to sit you down on his chair behind the counter as if you might collapse from blood loss at any moment, whizzing into the break room and back with a fist full of napkins to dab the miniscule wound that had already stopped bleeding.

All of those memories and more linked by one scent. This scent.

With your pupils dilating like a cat prepared to pounce, you flipped the bottle over to read the contents.

White frangipani blossoms, toasted coconut, bergamot waters, sea salt breeze and sunkissed musk.

Steve Harrington in a bottle. And the quickest 16 dollars you've ever spent.

And with that purchase came the self-imposed reminder to exercise caution. Upon leaving the mall with your friends, your mood much chipper than when you'd arrived, you made sure to hardly ever use the shampoo when you bathed, afraid that if Steve smelled it on you later, somehow, he'd be able to put the pieces together and know why you'd bought it, even as wildly unlikely as that seemed.

So instead, you huffed the bottle in private on most days, only using it when you knew you'd be spending the day at home. On those eagerly awaited days you luxuriated in the scent as you applied the shampoo in your shower, mind and fingers wandering, working your peaked nipples and your firm clit up to the thought of Steve joining you in your shower and fucking you dumb – tits pressed up against the cold, wet tiles, ass bouncing on his hips as he stretched you open and used you well.

But now that you'd discovered this new kind of hunger you had to make sure to keep it well fed and when the shampoo didn't feel like enough anymore, you set out to purchase his cologne.

The scent was one you had memorized from all of your trips to the video store, hanging around the counter while Steve talked to you about which movie you ought to rent next. You could smell it on his neck whenever he leaned in close on his elbows, face inches away from yours, wishing he'd close the distance and meet your lips with his.

Another trip to the mall had you scouring the men's section like a wolf tracking the scent of injured prey, sampling bottle after bottle of cologne until you found it.

Aromatic sage, dark tonka bean and rich sandalwood. Priced at a cool $39.50 which you gladly forked over because to you, it was all money well spent.

The cologne became part of your nightly routine after that, dabbing drops of the heady scent on your body when you went to bed, the smell making your arousal climb before lulling you to sleep an orgasm later, evoking dreams of Steve throughout the night that made you wake up to your panties all damp and sticking to your core by morning.

You were content that way, the shampoo and the cologne enough to satiate your fixation on the way Steve smelled all while managing to maintain your friendship with him without things becoming weird.

What ended up shattering that peace however was running into him a few weeks later coming out of the Y, just done with a game of basketball as he spotted you passing by and happily waved you down.

He smiled at you just as brightly as he had all those months ago in July, this time dressed in his gym clothes; a pair of green shorts that showed off the thickness of his toned, hairy thighs and a grey t-shirt, the sleeves filled out well by his tanned biceps and its collar darkened by sweat.

Up close, you could smell the exertion on him and that was what became your undoing.

It took every iota of self-control not to rush him to the ground and pin him beneath you, feeling more and more like a caged animal the longer the conversation went on and you were forced to compose yourself.

It was the kind of scent you wanted to sink into, more so than the cologne or the shampoo because this was Steve completely unadulterated – that earthy musk, that rugged, almost spicy all-natural scent that you wouldn't be able to find on any shelf.

Barely managing to hold it together until parting ways with him, you knew you wouldn't be able to rest without it, mind already working to devise a plan.

~

"Risve- what?"

You chuckled as the word died on Steve's tongue, knowing he'd trip up on the pronunciation. Reaching for a pen and a scrap of paper sitting on the counter, you wrote the word down for him. "Risvegli. It's Italian", you explain, handing it to him as you do your best to repress the shiver that runs through you when his slender fingers graze yours, trying hard to quieten your mind after all the ways you’ve imagined those very fingers touching you in your most sensitive places.

"It's kind of an obscure flick but I like that sort of stuff. D'you think you could have a look and see if you've got a copy in the back?", you try not to bat your lashes too much when you ask, not wanting to overplay the sweetness to the point that it comes off as insincere or worse, suspicious.

Steve looks down to study the paper, cheeks dusted a pretty pink, you can’t help but notice. The ends of his hair are still damp from his shower at the Y, just as you expected now that you knew which days he spent there before clocking in for work.

"For you? Definitely", he looked back up and smiled at you in that way that made your heart somersault. "Be right back". He leaves you alone at the counter and you make sure to wait for him to disappear out of sight into the back, stamping down a flash of guilt for having sent him off to search for a movie that didn't exist to buy you time.

You'd planned it all last night, stepping away from the counter before heading towards the employee break room, able to sneak in without fear of running into Robin because you knew she'd be spending the day with Sally on her day off from working at the diner.

Steve’s duffle bag is in plain view as you shut the door to the little room behind you quietly, resting on a chair that'd been pulled out from the table where you imagined he probably shared his lunch breaks with Robin.

Striding up to it, you find the zipper and tentatively, you pull it open to reveal the contents. What you're looking for is balled up at the very top, picking up the sweat damp t-shirt with clammy, trembling fingers. You're really crossing a line this time and you know it, your teeth close to piercing the soft skin of your bottom lip as you bite down on it but you can't deny that there's just something so exhilarating about the whole thing too. The lying, the sneaking around, the risk – it's all a little too much and your mind grows foggy with it, dulling your once sharp intuition and giving way to a moment of weakness that has you abandoning caution now that you're alone.

Waiting to do indulge your urges until you're safe at home feels impossible now that you've got your hands on it, eagerly pressing your nose into the damp t-shirt, eyes nearly rolling back as you filled your lungs with the smell of him. It must have been the pheromones, it had to be, awakening that primal kind of desire in you that had you parting your lips and pressing the tip of your tongue to one of the sweat stains, sucking on the sour, salty musk that had soaked into the cotton.

What you're doing is so dirty, damn near repulsive and knowing that just fuels you even more as you begin to salivate. You're too wrapped up in the earthy scent of him, too lost in the taste to notice when the door handle jiggles behind you, too drunk on the sick thought of what Steve’s used boxers must smell like if you were to pull those out of his duffle next when all of a sudden, it's too late.

The door to the break room swings open and in walks Steve, the world screeching to a sickening standstill when his eyes fall on you.

Your own eyes bulging, you watch in mute horror as he takes in the sight before him, the scrap of paper you'd handed him earlier slipping from between his thumb and forefinger, fluttering to the floor like the wings of a dying butterfly.

It's impossible to know what he's thinking. Is it disgust? if so, he hid it well. Bewilderment? You weren't sure. Ice crackles over your bones as the two of you stare for a few seconds longer, Steve's expression still unreadable.

The whole thing's all the more uncomfortable because of the way he continues to watch you like you’re something to be studied, looking contemplative as you trembled in place, wishing for the ground to break open beneath your feet and swallow you away into a never-ending crevasse.

But as the seconds tick by and the ground stays perfectly intact you're left to seek your own respite.

Despite what feels like the blood retreating from your veins, your body shifts into auto pilot as you wordlessly place the rumpled t-shirt back in Steve's duffel and do the only thing you can do in a fucked up situation like this – walk away. Even as he tries to call after you, you ignore his shouts, continuing on a path towards and out the exit, mortified.

You don't go back to Family Video after that. In fact, you avoid that entire street for a whole week.

The days following being caught out by Steve were some of the worst you've had to endure. Shame made a home in your body, making you ache with a belly full of thorns and your thoughts growing increasingly heavy and abrasive as they flood your throbbing head.

For those seven days you carried around the dread of knowing that Steve had discovered that secret side of you, the feeling worsening at the thought of him telling others what he had seen and rendering you some kind of town pariah – even though a tiny, hopeful whisper inside your raucous head told you that he probably hadn't said anything, at least not yet since Sally hadn't even seemed to have gotten word of the incident from Robin.

But that's all it was. A tiny, fleeting whisper that did nothing to calm you.

At home, you buried yourself in your blankets, letting your anxieties exhaust you to sleep and at work you moved as if you were fighting your way through thick slurry – slow and dragging your body from table to table, unsmiling as you took patrons' meal orders and served them their food.

You continued like that all throughout your shift, waiting for the moment you could peel your polyester uniform off in favour of your own clothes and drive yourself home. With only 30 minutes left before closing, your shoulders which had been pulled tight all day with tension began to sag, a momentary wash of relief coursing through you. That was until you smelled it – smelled him.

Whipping around, your stomach plummets when your eyes fall on Steve walking through the door – and to make things worse, he’s carrying that duffle on his shoulder.

He's yet to have spotted you, taking a seat at one of the empty booths though you notice the way his eyes are scanning the diner, searching.

It's obvious that you’re the one he’s looking for as worry courses down your spine like a lightning strike. Was he going to confront you? right here? in front of all these people? Normally you wouldn’t peg Steve as someone who’d do something so cruel but after what he’d caught you doing, a little public humiliation doesn’t seem all that undeserved, you had to admit.

So, carefully you retreat into the breakroom without drawing his attention, pulling a perplexed Sally along with you once you'd caught hold of her by her elbow.

Once safely inside, you all but blubber in her face, begging her to wait on Steve's table, even promising her all your tips for the next week in exchange.

Seeing the distress contorting your face must have made her feel sorry for you because she pulls you in for a quick, tight hug, running her hand up and down your back in an attempt to calm you. You'd only given her little snippets of what had happened at the video store, making sure to alter a few details for the sake of concealing how far you’d actually gone that day. To her, the gist of it was that you'd embarrassed yourself horribly and that was all she really needed to know, springing into action as the compassionate best friend to the rescue.

"I've got it, okay? just breathe", she'd repeated soothingly into your hair, giving you a quick squeeze and her best reassuring smile before you reluctantly unwind your hands from around her, allowing her to step out of the break room ahead of you.

Outside again, thirty minutes drag on like hours while you purposely stick to the part of the diner that's furthest away from Steve's table. You don't dare look at him but you do sneak a glance when Sally walks by with his order, a single black coffee and nothing else which he sips leisurely while you tremble.

If his plan was to confront you then what the hell was he waiting for? There was nothing stopping him from walking up to you while sweat collects between your shoulder blades as you clear the tables of customers who’ve settled their bill and since left. Nothing to prevent him from stepping up to the counter while you nervously rubbed the surface of it free of crumbs and stains to demand an explanation for your bizarre behavior last week. Nothing to stop him from simply walking up to you at any moment and ask to know what the fuck your deal was.

But he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he finishes his coffee and casually waves down Sally for the bill while smiling politely. Somehow that causes you even more unease.

In that moment you lose sight of Steve when you’re called over to serve the only other table of customers left, a family of five keen to fit in one last round of milkshakes before they call an end to their meal.

You see to their order despite your shaking limbs, returning with a tray crowded with the cold, sweet drinks, setting each one down carefully in front of the smiling children and their parents before you head back behind the counter with your tray clutched close to your chest. The whole thing must have taken you ten minutes and when you sneak one more look in Steve’s direction you find his booth empty this time.

Eyes frantically searching the diner, you manage to catch a final glimpse of him walking out the front door, bell chiming above him as he departs, leaving the diner and you with even more questions than you had when he'd first arrived.  

Had Steve changed his mind? Had he just wanted to make you sweat for the hell of it? Taken pleasure in watching you try to keep it together in his presence while you traipsed around the diner all too carefully like a petrified newborn deer?

Why had he shown up at all today if he wasn’t going to...do anything?

You get your answer fifteen minutes later when wearily, you trudge into the staff room at the end of your shift, pulling open your locker and all but fainting at the sight of what’s been placed inside beside your belongings.

Neatly folded inside is Steve's grey t-shirt, the same one you'd tried unsuccessfully to "borrow" last week The scent of him is instantly recognizable as you inhale shakily, fingers reaching out to touch the slightly damp cotton to confirm to yourself that you weren’t in fact hallucinating the whole thing.

When your pulse starts to settle and the static crackling in your ears starts to cease you notice a little scrap of folded paper placed inside too. Picking it up and pulling it open, it's with a deep, dreamy sigh that your chest blooms with sunny warmth as you read the note, a smile gracing your lips for the first time in a week.

Three months later...

The only good thing about working the graveyard shift at the diner was that Steve always insisted on coming in an hour before you clocked out so he could drive you home.

Occupying one of the booths inside the sleepy diner, he'd keep himself busy with his phone while you worked, perking up whenever you came by to freshen up his coffee or sneak him a piece of pie he hadn't ordered with all his favorite fixings.

It was during those moments that he liked to have a little fun with you, quickly surveying the room to make sure no customers or staff were looking over in your direction before he'd slip his fingers under your skirt and pinch your ass. Sometimes you'd see it coming and other times he'd catch you off guard, cruel delight curling his lips into a smirk whenever you had to stifle your surprised squeals.

And that's as far as he usually took, patiently waiting until he could get you in his car for more but today felt different.

With no new customers coming in in the last two hours, Sally had taken to the break room to work in a nap while the kitchen staff had stepped out back to smoke and deal cards to pass the time. That left just you working the front with Steve as the diner's only patron.

Having no one else around meant you could flirt freely with him now, making sure to look over your shoulder every now and then just incase to make sure you didn't get caught.

You spent that time alone together with his boot gently tapping against your shoe under the table, reaching out and fiddling with his fingers because you always liked to be touching him while you happily teased each other as the minutes passed by.

Somewhere in the middle of your playful banter you noticed Steve's cup was now empty, picking yourself up from the booth to bring over more coffee. As you leaned over the edge of the table to pour, you anticipated the glide of his fingers on your thigh, inching up your skirt to situate them between your legs.

"You're going to get me fired one of these days", you chide him, still holding on to the pot of coffee once you'd finished refilling his cup.

"Good – then I can have you all to myself", he teased back, index finger drawing patterns on your inner thigh, just a few inches below the lacy trim of your panties.

"Steve", you attempt to scold but there's barely any heat there for him to take it seriously, fingers daring to trail higher.

Meeting his heavy gaze, you watch him search your eyes for a moment, the soft smirk that had been tugging at the corner of his lips slowly fading away as something more serious clouds his expression when he leans forward to whisper to you.

"No one's around, baby. Please? Can I?"

It takes you a second before you know exactly what he's asking for without needing him to specify, heat rising up from the depths of your chest and gathering in your cheeks.

He's got that look in his eyes too and you know that this is what it must have looked like the day he caught you with your face buried in his sweaty t-shirt. That feverish glint of potent want making his iris' gleam.

"Steve, it's too risky", you try to reason quietly despite the way your thighs are already parting for him, allowing him to skim the pads of his fingers over the seat of your panties, teasing your waiting folds through the thin later of fabric.

"Never stopped you before", he's quick to reply with wink, making you grow warmer at the reminder.

He's got you beat there.

"I promise I'll be quick", he pleads again softly and it's almost comical how quickly you buckle under the weight of his needy gaze.

"Shit, okay", you concede as you step closer to the edge of the booth and he pulls himself closer too, hand moving higher to cup your ass under your skirt.

You sigh contently when Steve leans forward and presses his nose against the front of your uniform, right over the juncture between your legs. You're careful to keep your grip tight on the handle of the coffee pot you're still carrying when he takes in a deep breath, inhaling your scent right through your clothes.

Steve liked to joke that you brought out this side of him, the one that made the both of you realize how alike you really were.

It started with the way he liked to linger between your legs after he'd finished eating you out. Your ruined panties spilled out of his back pocket, never to be returned to you as he took his time pressing sweet kisses against your swollen folds and spent clit with his sticky lips, clearly pleased with himself as you fought to catch your breath from the orgasm that'd rippled through you.

And as things progressed, he wasn't secretive about wanting to fuck you so hard and often that the smell of you would linger in the air long after you were done. Or how he liked to nestle his nose in the curls on your mound once he'd finished laving at your pussy – the moreish combination of sweat, saliva and your natural musk making his twitching cock stiffen all over again as he rut into the mattress for a second time, painting his sticky boxers with another generous load.

Other times he'd get on his knees for you, pulling you close by your hips so he could place his face against your clothed cunt and mumble dreamy praises about how good your pussy smelled. And you always loved it when he got like that, even now as your free hand strokes lazily through his caramel hair, letting him do this to you in the middle of your place of work, your coworkers unaware but not far away enough that they couldn't walk in at any moment and find the two of you like this.

"Stevie", you whined softly as you tried to get his attention, a reluctant reminder that the two of you should probably stop before it's too late.

"Jus' a little more, please? need it to tide me over before I can get you alone". His eyes are all glazed over when he looks up at you, tentatively slipping his other hand up the front of your thigh to hitch up the hem of your skirt ever so slightly, his gaze all pleading as he waits for your permission.

With the way he's managed to work you up, your panties more that a little tacky from his attention and your belly tightening with warmth, how could you possibly refuse when you needed this just as badly as he did?

"Fuck. Yes, okay – just be careful", you urge gently because 'be quick' doesn't seem likely anymore.

A look of pure bliss breaks out on his reddening face. "Christ. Thank you, baby", Steve groans appreciatively, pushing your skirt up to expose your panties before burying his face against your clothed mound. He can feel the outline of your cunt perfectly when he's this close – so soft and plump, his mounting greed has him battling the urge to pull the soaked cotton down to your knees and start sucking the tangy slick from your pretty, swollen pussy lips before pressing deeper to lick at your tight hole and all it has to offer.

Restraining himself, he lets out a muffled moan against your core that has your clit swelling and throbbing, your eyes slipping shut while you give yourself to him. It's almost soothing the way he savors you so shamelessly, head partially ducked underneath your rucked up skirt, fingers gently squeezing your ass with his blunt nails making light indents in your skin.

You let him breathe you in for a while longer until you begin to feel a little floaty and more than a little needy from it all, expecting Steve to pull away soon because how much longer could you get away with doing this in public? Stopping him isn't what you want, not really but you knew better than to push your luck by now.

But instead of him reluctantly withdrawing away from you, what you feel next is the wet drag of his tongue along your messy panties, warm, firm and sudden.

Although definitely not unwelcome, under the circumstances, the feeling of it startles you and you can't help but cry out with a yelp, arm jerking backwards as a splash of coffee makes its way onto the checkered diner floor.

Hearts hammering, the both of you rip apart from each other then, Steve with his wide eyes and ruffled hair as he plasters himself to his seat while you very nearly lose what's left of your balance when your shoes skid over the wet mess of spilled coffee. You manage to catch yourself though when you grab the edge of his table with your free hand, finally placing the damn coffee pot down to hurriedly pull your skirt back into place.

Silence overtakes the room as the both of you peer wordlessly in the direction of the kitchen and breakroom, waiting to see if you'd accidentally drawn the attention of any nearby diner staff.

Seconds turn into a minute and when no one comes through either of the doors you allow yourself to sigh out in relief, turning back to Steve.

"Shit. I'm sorry I couldn't help it – had to taste you, honey. You just – fuck, you just smell so fucking good. I needed a little more", he tries to explain when your eyes connect, his cheeks sheened with a thin layer of perspiration and flushed a deep pink.

You were foolish to think you could let him do all of that and endure waiting until the end of your shift to take things further in his car. Leaving him with his lips parted and his jaw slack, you stride away to the diner's entrance to quickly flip the 'open' sign over to read 'closed', rushing back to tug Steve up and out of his seat urgently, grinning when you catch sight of the stiff bulge straining in his jeans.