The Clinic

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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


“Make a fist for me please.”

I watched as the wide rubber band forced my veins to swell. Her fingers danced along my arm, tap-tap-tapping, looking for the best site to stab me.


Apparently my company saw great opportunity for growth in the towns and villages scattered across the landscape so I’d recently been moved out into the middle of nowhere. I was pretty much settled in and that day I found myself in a small clinic – the smallest I’d ever seen, actually – tacked onto the end of the local medical centre. After ten years in a big city it was going to take some time to adjust to the scale of everything here.

Anyway, my new doctor had suggested a full blood work-up to get a better idea of my current health status so here I was in a tiny two-room office, apparently run by just this one clinician. We were seated facing each other as usual, my arm stretched out on the chair like a sacrifice, waiting for that fatal blow. I’d always hated needles, right from my earliest memories. Today was no different. At least she was attractive. It would help distract me from the sharp steel she was about to plunge into me.

I studied her face as she bent over my arm. She was pretty, in a girl-next-door sort of way, with a faint constellation of freckles scattered across her nose and cheeks. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. I tried to guess if it was her natural colour. If not, there was a damned good stylist in this town.

She held her finger on the chosen site and reached over for the needle. As she did, her breast pushed against my knuckles. The typical clinician’s white smock she wore was unbuttoned and revealed a tight, rib-knit sweater underneath. I felt a slight rippling effect as the ridges slid across my skin.

I cleared my throat and illegal bahis sat up straight, hoping she knew this had been purely accidental and not an attempt to graze her tit like some lecherous old man. She didn’t say a word, didn’t look at me. It seemed as if she hadn’t even felt it.

She sat back up, faced me again and leaned in as she slid the needle under my skin and attached the first vial. It happened again. This time there was nowhere to go. My arm was pinned to the chair; she held it in place as she watched the little tube fill with my blood. Her breast was pressed against my hand, so much so that I could feel the weight of it. I looked down, fascinated to see that her “headlights” were on high-beam, forming very obvious bumps under her sweater. I cleared my throat again and squirmed slightly in my chair. She gave no indication that there was anything out of the ordinary happening here.

The last thing I wanted was to be accused of groping a young woman alone in a lab but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I tried to relax as I watched her pop a succession of tubes onto the needle, each time coming back to lean against my hand.

“You can open your fist now.”

I relaxed my fingers as best I could without pressing them against her breast. I was able to open my hand the next time she pulled away for yet another vial (Good God, how many did she need?). When she turned to me again, I swear she lifted off her chair so she could bring her breast down onto my open palm. Now there was no question of what was going on here.

The full weight of her breast was in my cupped hand. In a sort of detached way, I watched my thumb begin to stroke her erect nipple. I looked directly at her. She was still concentrating on my arm. She said nothing. I squeezed her illegal bahis siteleri breast. Still nothing. She withdrew the needle and pressed a tuft of cotton over the site but she didn’t pull away. I held my hand firmly against her and massaged her breast. She kept looking at my arm, silent, motionless. Her cheeks were flushed. Then she leaned in, pushing against my hand.

And then came the totally-unexpected. She reached down and pulled her sweater up over her breasts. Her hardened nipples were clearly visible through the thin, stretchy fabric of her bra. Not once did she look up at me. Now my hand was under her brassiere, feeling her warm skin, the soft, heavy weight of her breast, the texture of her nipple.

I stared at her. Her eyes were closed, her breathing more pronounced. Her cheeks glowed red.

An electric shock hit me when I felt her fingers close around my now-rigid cock. I gave an involuntary grunt as she began to stroke it through my trousers. I shifted slightly – both to give her greater access and also to show her I was quite willing to accept what was happening right now in this small room. She looked down at my crotch and opened the zipper. She slid her hand inside and drew my fully erect cock out into the open. Beads of clear fluid were forming on the tip. She smeared them down my shaft, lubricating it as her hand slid up and down.

She was shaking slightly now, her hands quivering as I lifted her bra up over her breasts. They dropped heavily when they slipped out from under the band. I took hold again, my fingers exploring her smooth skin. She kept up a strong, steady stroke on my cock. I was surprised by how quickly I was going to cum. I groaned and reached down to take hold of both breasts, lifting and squeezing them tightly.

Suddenly canl─▒ bahis siteleri she slid her chair back and bent down to take my throbbing cock into her mouth. I watched, fascinated, as her head bobbed rapidly up and down. She paused, took a deep breath and then pushed down until I felt her face press against me, my cock wedged in her throat. She sat there for what must have been at least half a minute, twisting slightly, forcing me even deeper. I’d never experienced anything like it before. My cock began to jerk and throb harder. I was going to cum any moment now.

Finally she pulled back and gasped for air. Her entire body was shaking now. She moaned, then plunged down onto me again and sucked hard, her lips sealed tightly around my shaft. I grunted, lifted my hips and held my hand on the back of her head as I came. I shot streams of cum into her mouth, on and on – an incredibly intense, prolonged orgasm.

She dug her fingers into my thigh and groaned, my cock still inside. A tremendous shudder wracked her body. Then another. And again. She kept sucking me even as her own orgasm took hold. With a loud cry she arched back against her chair. A strand of my cum stretched and broke between us. She buried her fingers deeply into her crotch and stroked herself rapidly as she swallowed and gasped, her body rigid. I watched a stream of my cum slide down her cheek, down her neck. Her eyes were locked on the ceiling while this fierce storm possessed her.

Then, as quietly as it started, it was over. Her breasts hung heavily from under her sweater. That thick line of my cum clung to her face while she pressed a bandage over the needle’s mark. Wordlessly she got up, pulled her smock around herself and left the room, her chin cupped in her hand. I heard a door open and close in the distance, then silence. I pulled myself together, stood and rolled my sleeve down. There was still no sound, no sign of her. Nothing. I waited, perhaps for three or four minutes, unsure of what to do.

Then, with a shake of my head, I left.

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