Miss: Interrupted

"Oh Brian, I want to do something for you!" Dr. Breedlove says, pink-faced and breathing heavily after her wet orgasm on your tongue.

The clatter of a hospital cart breaks the moment. She scrambles off the bed and smooths her skirt down. She falls back into patient care routine, taking your hand and poising her fingers over your wrist to feel your pulse.

The cart rolls down the hall, but the mood is spoiled.

"Good night, Brian," Dr. Breedlove tells you, then flees.

Tantalizing you, you see Dr. Breedlove's panties on the floor where she peeled them off and dropped them. You wish you could get out of the bed and get to them. You'd love to keep them under your pillow. Maybe if the Doctor comes back, or one of the nurses or aides you already know, you could ask for them.

The red glow of the call button tempts you. At least you still have no roommate to disturb you, or vice versa.

And you're still hard as a tire iron and wet on your face and neck from Didyma Breedlove's pussy juice.

Well, hell.

You squeeze the call button.