"Yessss," I hissed.
He pulled out of me and slammed back in, this time making the table beneath me shake. My body quivered against his and I nearly fell off the table, but he placed his hands under my ass and held me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and dug my fingers into the fabric of his shirt.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he said, thrusting hard into me. "I know that, but I can't... I don't..."
Despite what he couldn't or didn't want to do, he kept doing it very well. "Asher," I whimpered. "Please. I need you. You're going to be a father. Show me, please."
He leaned down and touched his nose against mine, looking me in the eyes. I looked up at him, breathing hard and heavy, staring at him. He looked so intense, so demanding. He thrust into me again and again, erratic and unstoppable.
It was fast and unromantic and sloppy, but that was a huge part of the appeal to me. Two people, both needing each other so badly that they couldn't wait, still mostly fully clothed and fooling around on the padded table in an in vitro facility. I wondered if anyone had ever done this before as a sort of last ditch effort. Good luck, perhaps, a different way of producing results. I would have liked that, too. A miracle, or something like it.
"Please," I begged him. "Cum inside me. I want you to. Please, Asher."
He scrunched up his face as if making a decision. His thrusts slowed, becoming more elegant and pronounced. His c*ck hit every wonderful part inside of me at this point, angled upwards and sliding back and forth across the rugged flesh of my g-spot. I could feel the beginnings of my orgasm, making themselves known and inquiring about entry. Yes, of course, I thought to myself. Come right in.
"Jessika," Asher said, his face twisted in pleasure. "I can't. The doctor. You need to, after..."
"I don't care, I don't care," I said, hasty. "No, don't, no."
He thrust inside of me one last time, slamming me back against the table. My cli**x crashed into me, sending me into a blissful state of unawareness. My inner walls clutched against Asher's cock, urging him to stay, welcoming his seed in its natural state. In vitro fertilization was good, but maybe we should practice with the real thing first, right?
But, no. Asher remained in control of himself and pulled out of me. I tried to stop him, held him tight with my hands, but he managed to loosen my fingers enough to free himself. Just barely, almost not enough, and as soon as his c*ck slipped free of my p**sy his own orgasm flared up. I looked down, captivated by his thick, bulging erection trapped between my thighs. His cockhead seemed to strain against itself, growing and flexing, and then he let loose a stream of cum. His sticky seed splashed against my pink panties, leaving a line of white goo. Then another, and one more, and a final, tiny amount that clung to the head of his quivering cock.
My orgasm matched his rhythm, tensing and growing with every shot of his cream. The scene in front of me, the naughtiness of what we'd just done, it fueled my fantasies. I shivered and spasmed on the table, and while I wanted him inside of me, filling me, some vague part of me knew he was right. The doctor would need to do some preliminary exams, and most likely that involved scoping out my lower region. No matter how much cleaning up we did after the fact, she'd probably suspect something if she saw the remnants of a recent sexual encounter. And would she tell Beatrice?
Asher finished spurting, but apparently he wasn't finished with me. Grabbing my panties again, catching me off guard, he pulled them aside and thrust himself inside of me. Once, twice, again. My orgasm soared back to life, caught up in his need, and I clenched against him. No one had ever done this with me before. Granted, every man I'd been with before now had always worn a condom, too.
I bucked my h*ps against Asher, riding him to another peak of pleasure. He slammed into me, hard and urgent, fighting against the clock and trying to force me to orgasm again. I felt him flex inside of me, straining to keep his c*ck hard enough to satisfy me. He could have remained perfectly still and let me bask in the feel of him inside me for all I cared; it probably would have done the same thing.
Still, his c*ck was softening, which was kind of exciting in its own way. This man, this desirous, aloof man who had no reason to even look at me twice, was doing everything in his power to please me. I could not stop him and he refused to accept anything else from me. The idea of it, the heady, drunken feeling it gave me, flung me over the edge.
I could still feel him inside me, pushing, his c*ck returning to normal, but it was a more subtle feeling now. Not that it mattered, though, because I was in the full throes of cli**x once again. I pulled at him and he didn't move away this time, merely kept himself inside me. The wall of my p**sy squeezed and hugged against his c*ck while he embraced me. I rode through my pleasure, eyes closed, languishing in the delightful sensation of it.
As I was coming down, indulging in the afterglow, Asher's c*ck still tucked neatly inside me, someone knocked on the door.
"Asher?" a woman asked. "Are you in there?"
Beatrice. His wife.
"Shit," he said. Pulling away from me, he bent down and wrenched his pants up. His fingers, seemingly ungainly and thick all of a sudden, barely managed to button his pants and buckle his belt before Beatrice knocked again.
"Hello? I'm coming in."
Beatrice tried to turn the handle, but the door was locked. I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful for the doctor's office doors; they locked automatically whenever anyone closed them fully, to prevent inopportune entrances during potentially awkward examinations. Asher and I might have benefited from this in a less legitimate way, but it worked out nonetheless.
I hopped up and grabbed a handful of paper towels from above a hand washing sink and rubbed them against the fabric of my panties trying to scrub away Asher's seed.
"Sorry, Beatrice," Asher said. "These doors lock on their own. Jessika and I were just discussing the procedure. Hold on, let me figure this door out."
"It's just a lock," she said. "How hard can it be? Let me in."
He looked at me, his expression full of panic. I shrugged and flailed my hands to the side, a sort of "I don't know!" gesture. Somewhat satisfied with my progress in cleaning up our mess, I threw the paper towels into a trash basket, fixed my panties and skirt, and jumped back onto the cushioned table.
"The locks can be tricky sometimes," I said, overly loud and nervous. I said it for Asher's benefit, but as soon as I did I felt like it sounded like something a bad actor might say.
Asher toyed with the door handle and the lock. Confused, he looked at me and whispered, "I really don't know how to open this. Help?"
Oh God, oh God, this was getting worse by the minute. I rushed over to the door and stared at the handle. Asher pulled on it and poked something. The door handle had a switch and a button, but neither of them looked ready to do anything but stay in place.
"Is everything alright?" our doctor asked from far away down the hall.
"The door is stuck," Beatrice said. "What kind of shoddy facility is this?"
If the doctor was annoyed, she didn't sound it. "It's a security measure," she said.
"Do you think my husband is going to steal from you? He makes more in a day than everyone in this office combined makes in a year."
The doctor ignored her. "If you'll allow me, I can unlock the door with this key. It's not that we don't trust anyone, but it's the type of door we have. I told your husband and Jessika to page me through the in-room intercom system when they were ready. There's no need to worry, Mrs. Landseer."
"Hurry," Beatrice said. "Right now."
The doctor put the key into the keyhole and the button on our side of the door popped out. A twist of the handle later and the door opened. A very angry looking Beatrice and a slightly irritated looking doctor stood on the other side.
"Well," Beatrice said, stomping inside. "That's a first. No one has ever mistaken me for a thief before. I'm quite surprised to say the least."
I wanted to say something, primarily to correct her and mention that no one had mistaken her for a thief, but I suppressed my urge. This was probably a good time to let Beatrice think whatever she wanted, because it saved Asher and I the need to explain anything. Because, really, I didn't even know how to begin to explain any of it.
Beatrice sniffed at the air, wrinkling her nose. The smell of sex was extremely obvious to me, and I knew at that moment that she'd figure it out. Everything, all at once, no more hiding, and...
"I despise the smell of hospitals," she said. "Even here. Ugh. It has a distinct stale smell. Far too crisp and pervasive, like someone's gone through the entire room with four different kinds of disinfectant spray."
"You're welcome to wait in the waiting room, Mrs. Landseer," the doctor said with a smile.
"I'll pass." Beatrice put her nose up at the very thought. "I would rather not wait with the huddled masses."
Huddled masses? I thought maybe she was being a bit over the top with that one, or maybe it was a joke? But, no, Beatrice looked completely serious. In fact, after she said it, I could've sworn she peered at me out of the corner of her eye. Then she looked away—if she'd even looked at me in the first place—and settled into one of the chairs in the room.
"I think Jessika and I went over most concerns we might have with the procedure and the consent papers," Asher said. "Is there another room where Beatrice and I can talk while you do the examination, or...?"
The doctor put on a saccharine sweet smile and shook her head. Clearly she didn't want to put up with this. "Oh, no, you two stay here. I can take Ms. Fevrier to another room. I'll have someone clear out the huddled masses beforehand, so don't you worry."
With that, the doctor stepped into the hallway and beckoned for me to follow. Asher refrained from laughing, but Beatrice looked completely astounded.
"Did she really just say that?" Beatrice asked Asher as I walked out of the room and followed the doctor. "What kind of place is this, Asher? I don't think we should be consorting with these types of people. They seem unsafe."
I stifled a laugh. "I'm sorry about that," I said. "I think she's always like that. It's probably nothing personal."
"Oh, I'm sure she is," the doctor said. "I don't really care. I don't have to deal with her."
...
Asher was, perhaps, the luckiest man in the world. Or the unluckiest, depending on how someone saw it.
Why had he done what he did with Jessika? And, especially, why had he done it in the patient room at the in vitro center? Impulse, probably, pure and animalistic. My God, those panties! He didn't want to come across as crude, but a woman like Jessika in panties like that could make even a steadfast priest rescind his vows. The lace and frills, a cute and tantalizing facade for the sexiness beneath. He was, perhaps, a complete sucker for the illusion of innocence. Jessika was anything but that, though.
Or, more precisely, she was innocent, but not in a usual way. She was curious and insightful and interesting. He loved that about her. She didn't just want to know, she needed to know. And he was fairly certain that she'd done all of that on purpose. That didn't forgive him for what he did, but he accepted it for what it was. She wanted to know what happened if she tempted him? Well, for any other person he could resist temptation, but there was something about Jessika that ruined his resolve.