The Doctor's Discovery
Author: Brandywine00
Rating: NC-18/Mature Explicit~ADULTS ONLY! I MEAN IT!
Written for the Jellie_Shippers LJ Birthday Challenge. May not seem it at first, but I promise this will turn 'Birthday' theme! Hope y'all enjoy. Blame it on the Evil Kink Plot Bunny. Self-beta'd, so please point out boo-boos.
.*.*.
It took her by complete surprise, though really, Ellie believed she'd known all along.
The knowing had always been there, locked away in some deep, repressed recess of her soul, like a dirty, sinful secret she didn't want to forget, but dared not let it draw breath in the daylight. If she did, the rest of the world – her friends, her co-workers, God help her, her family – would see it there, branded on her skin like a glowing scarlet A. Or maybe an S. Yes, that was more fitting. She hadn't actually cheated, at least nowhere but in her mind, and even there the face of that 'other' was cloaked in shadow.
She liked to tell herself that should the light flood the room, she'd be greeted by touselled sandy-blond hair and light-hearted blue eyes and a mischievous boyish grin. Tried so desperately to convince herself it was so, though in her heart of hearts, she knew he'd never fully give life to that role. Heaven knew she'd thrown enough hints his way that even a blind man should have seen what she really wanted. Needed. But his sunny disposition and giving nature kept him from being that which she needed to fill this craving. He would never take. Never lay claim to her body. Never possess her so totally as the Shadow Man in her fantasies.
Oddly, it was Devon who inadvertently first set her on this path of discovery. His love of fitness had prompted him to buy her a set of ankle and wrist straps, simple weighted Velcro bracelets and anklets with a measure of sand in each. Not particularly sexy in their own rights, but she caught herself admiring the way the black nylon fabric wrapped snugly around her trim ankles. Started to notice when the added weight pulled against her wrists. Nearly came undone the day she somewhat accidentally discovered how much the very sight of them on her limbs caused an added wetness between her thighs.
But it was the sunny afternoon, alone after a run through the neighborhood, when she'd kicked off her shoes and socks, and fallen back on her bed with arms and legs outstretched, that she consciously became aware. She'd been hiding from it and stalking it ever since.
It had started innocently enough. Letting her breath come back to normal as the thrum of her pulse beat steady, rapid time through her arms and legs, she brought one knee up, resting her foot flat on the bed and lifted her hips. The running shorts and her panties were soon dispatched, followed by her tank top and the sports bra that flattened her ample breasts against bouncing. Her nipples ached from the confinement, and she lightly rubbed them for relief as she let her body cool down before her shower.
"Welcome back, girls," she laughed lightly, gently kneading the aggrieved globes. As she reached one long leg up to remove the ankle weight, she was suddenly struck by the four straps at her extremities, the blackness against her lightly tanned naked body.
A shiver ran through her as the similarities dredges up memories, of photos she'd briefly seen in magazines, those pictures that she told herself were degrading and had no place in the fantasies of grown professional women, accomplished women, doctors, for heaven's sake. And though she'd quickly looked away from those explicit scenes of beautiful, naked bodies, captured and pleasured at a firm man's whim, she couldn't ignore the quiver that rippled through her now slickened nether lips.
Ellie let the shudder ride through her as a heat rushed up her chest and neck to her cheeks. It was wrong to want that. Wasn't it? All the pro-feminist talking points shouted that she shouldn't want to be the woman in those photos, never go there willingly. Yet wasn't the whole pro-fem movement about the right of choice? Acceptance? Her logical mind battled back. Who were they, or anyone else, to tell her what was acceptable?
In sheer defiance, if somewhat guiltily, Ellie pushed back the butterflies in her stomach and centered herself on the large bed. No one was home. No one would be home for hours. This was her house, damn it, her body. Who would tell her what could and should please her?
Stretching her legs wide in emulation of the sensual women in those pictures, she glanced down to look at her body. Firm, rose-tipped breasts jutted high against the open air, still flushed from her exercise. Her trim, toned stomach dipped between her hips, not bony, but with just enough flesh to provide a mature curve. Enough softness for a man to grasp hold of in the throes of passion. Beyond the neatly trimmed patch of dark hair at the apex of her limbs, her long thighs and calves stretched on, all the way down to the heavy, black material strapped around dainty ankles. She arched her foot, as if putting on a glass stiletto-heeled slipper, and the effect was jolting.
Ellie laid her head back and closed her eyes, letting the vision of her splayed body play in her mind as she slid her palm along the plane of her abdomen. Reaching the juncture of her legs, she lightly grazed her fingernails along the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs, picturing not just the black straps on her ankles but a thin silver chain extending from each to the footboard of her bed. The image sent a bolt of electricity and nervousness through her, and she spread her legs a little wider just to show herself she could.
Trailing small arcs on her thighs, she drew her fingers nearer to center, imagining the slender, elegant fingers were long and thick and slightly callused. Those erotically masculine fingers traced the soft, hot flesh of her outer lips, slid carefully but purposefully along the valley between the inner and the outer folds, paused only a fraction at the far end of her slit before gliding slowly along the now soaked slick opening, up to the firm, aroused bud at the top. Wetting the sensitive button with her own juices, the fingers dipped back down to bathe her lips in the same, passing side to side across the satiny wings.
A moan filled the room. She was only minutely aware that it was her own as the other hand brushed lightly up her tightening torso, up over the aching mound that was her breast. Grasping the silky flesh, she arched up into her – his – touch, his warm hand palming and massaging her as the other dipped into the heated silk of her core. So slow. Moving so slow, drawing out the pleasure. Firm fingers pinched at her nipple and pulled gently. Another, deeper moan echoed through her mind, hers – his – and the hand slid across her tender skin to tease the nipple of the other breast. She felt the fingers lower into her dripping center before returning to pluck at the tender nipple. The wetness and the firmness felt so very like warm, sensuous lips nibbling at her that she nearly peeked to watch him work expertly on her hardened nub.
"Oh, god… oh, god… oh, yes, more, please more please more," she keened, raising her hips high into the pleasuring touch of fingers that knew just where to go, just how fast to stroke, just how deeply to penetrate her before slowly drawing out and back in. She could feel the weights heavy around her ankles as she arched up on the balls of her feet, desperate to connect more deeply with the firm, fulfilling touch and not disappointed as three fingers curled into her, drawing her pleasured screams over and over and over.
.*.*.
To be continued….
(Author's note: *Sigh* I said I wasn't gonna do it. Said no more stories 'til I get one of the others finished. Said if, IF, mind you, I wrote this one, it would be a one-shot, and that was FINAL!
Crap. All I can say is the Plot Bunny ambushed me, beat me repeatedly about the cerebral cortex and threatened to chew my shins off if I didn't go ahead and get this one started. Folks, my cerebral cortex may already be a loss, but I really need my shins. Boots just don't look right without 'em. So… I caved. *Sigh* Hope you all enjoyed. I appreciate all reviews, thanks so much! This is me, so of course, there will be more. Like I could stop it! ;D)