I Came for an Ultrasound and Left With Her Thighs Around My Head

You call my name.

The skin of my legs sticks to the leather chair as I rise. I leave the waiting area and walk to the door you’re holding.

As I approach, our eyes meet, and then yours shift to my crotch, but only for an instant. Then they’re back, and you smile, telling me your name and that you’ll be doing my ultrasound.

I follow you through, and perhaps because you looked first, I tell myself it’s okay to admire your shape from behind. The way your shoulders move, confident, like you belong here. Arms take long strides. From the rear, I savor the way your soft and full breasts spill around your compact frame. Your sideboob is mesmerizing.

Your waist curves to wide hips. I want to hold them. I have a sudden urge to take them in my grip.

But I remain as impassive as I can.

If you knew my thoughts…

You lead me to the diagnostic room. You close the door. A projector is shining a night sky, full of stars on the ceiling. Instantly, I feel more relaxed. I figure that must be intentional.

You explain how to drape a towel over my penis. Then ask me to take off my pants and underwear, while you grab something from the closet. When you walk back over, I’m on my back. I am pulling the towel against my penis, holding it tight to my belly.

You notice my balls. I shaved yesterday, wanting it smooth for whoever would be doing this scan. I had no idea it would be you. I had no idea it would be someone so beautiful.

I watch you grab the bottle of warm jelly, aim it at me, and coat my balls with its warmth. I suddenly panic because there’s a very real chance you’re going to make me hard.

You press the probe to my sac, finding the right one, learning the shape of it before stopping. A camera shutter noise and then you slide it further. My balls start shifting beneath your fingers. I look away, up to the stars, because I have to.

You move higher up, recording something with another click. Then further, until my ball pops loose under you, falling back to rest between my legs. You aren’t ready for that. Your upward momentum takes you to the base of my cock. You drag the probe across the width of me and I glance down at you. Your lips open ever so slightly.

I’m already swelling. I have no choice but to cinch the towel tighter.

That creates a problem though. I fear I can hear my dick throbbing. I look down and swear I can see it throbbing.

“Sorry,” I say.

“It’s okay. I’ll do the other side now.”

I nod.

I bet you’ve seen all sorts of things in this room. You probably see so many naked men that this is nothing to you. For me, it’s a rare day indeed when a woman spends so much time focused solely on my balls.

I’m aware of this imbalance. I promise myself that I will not make this weird for you.

I really hope that you can’t tell that my dick is hard.

I admire your skill and your fingernails, long and pink, yet they don’t scratch me. You maneuver carefully, aware of the ends of your claws and my most sensitive spot. You handle me well.

Fuck. There I go again.

“I need to add more jelly. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” I say. I don’t tell you how soothing it feels as you cover me with it. I have to consciously stifle a groan.

“How long have you had this pain?” you say.

“Two, three months? Comes and goes.”

Great, and now I’m thinking about coming.

I turn my head as you scan my left ball, deciphering the shape of that one. My eyes are sucked to your hips. You’re sitting, thighs straight, scrubs taut between your legs.

And then I see the outline of your mound, smooth and curved. Just a thin piece of fabric or two between my eyes and your pussy. Fuck… My body responds with a strong jolt, a violent buckle that ripples through my belly and to my cock. It pops out from the sheet, bouncing to stick up.

“I’m so sorry,” I say. I really am. I didn’t want to make this weird. I didn’t want to be that guy.

You could report me. You could stand and leave and have security escort me out of here. Instead, it’s like you can tell that I’m sincerely embarrassed.

To your credit, you laugh.

“Cover that thing up, please.”

My cheeks flush. I slip it beneath the towel. You continue scanning me, taking another image. The shutter clicks. Your fingers press between my balls, splitting them on either side of your hand. It’s silent for a good minute before you side-eye me.

“Bet you are very popular with the ladies,” you say.

“It’s a curse.”

You laugh. Keep scanning.

“Why?” Your lips twist into a wry smile.

“For real? You want to know?”

You nod. I exhale through my nose.

“It was too big for my last girlfriend. I couldn’t go deep. The width was a problem too. She dumped me because of it. Said sex was supposed to be fun. Not leave her limping.”

“Oh.”

“And then, a few weeks later, some of her friends slid into my DM’s. Word was getting around. They wanted to see what it was like.”

“Did you take them up on the offer?”

“Honest answer? Yeah, one of them.”

“And?”

“Are we supposed to talk about this?”

I say.

“Please. I’m not supposed to see a patient’s dick, so…”

“Good point. She said it was a lot of fun. I had fun too. It was good to get back out there and, you know… but then I never heard from her again. Did some soul searching. Some reading. Turns out it’s fairly common problem for guys that have big…”

I stop myself. We have definitely crossed the line. But your fingers and your eyes have stopped. You’re biting your bottom lip.

“I think, to be thorough, I need to scan it too,” you say.

“It?”

You slide the probe up my balls, once again at the base of my shaft. This time, you don’t pull away quickly. I raise an eyebrow. But I move the towel up slowly, an inch at a time. Your lips part as you start to really look at me.

I can’t say I don’t love the feeling of a woman appreciating my cock. And when that woman is so fucking beautiful, oh my god.

I really want to appreciate you in return. I want you to straddle me on this bed, and brush that soft mound against my lips. Yank the elastic of those scrubs down, and suck gently on you.

But I’m pulled back to the moment and out of my head. Your fingers work the probe up the length of me, tracing every prominent vein, every ripple of my cock. I can’t stop it from bouncing sometimes. The pressure builds and my core tightens and it bounces. It’s involuntary, I promise.

You giggle, covering your mouth with your free hand. Your sleeve slides up that bent arm and that’s when I notice the sleeve of tattoos there. I hadn’t seen them before. Fucking hot. I can’t stop the trickle of clear pre-cum that leaks from my tip.

Your eyes catch that. You lick your lips.

It happens suddenly. We both move quickly. I sit up, and you drop the probe.

I reach over and grab you by the hips, making good on my silent promise to appreciate you, pull you onto the bed, dropping you between my legs.

I dig my fingers between elastic and skin and drag your scrubs, your panties down. They’re soaked. You’re glistening. I kiss your thigh, pushing your legs apart and running my lips up, up, up to where your smooth pussy slowly parts. Your folds peel apart and I kiss them, sucking one side gently between my lips. I let my tongue explore it as I savor how you taste—sweet like honey barbecue, but more satisfying, more addictive.

I could taste you all day.

Your hands are in my hair and you pull me tighter against you. Your hips rock in place, thighs squeezing my cheeks. Your breathing is picking up.

I look up at you, you look down at me. Your eyes water and you’re nodding rapidly. I feel the meaning. Keep doing what I’m doing. Between us, your belly rolls with waves. You reach under your top and play with your nipple, and I’m a bit jealous. I want to do that, but you told me to keep doing what I’m doing.

I sense your ankles cross behind my head and you dig them into the back of my head. My tongue is pressing on your clit. It’s throbbing against my tongue and I want to drink this in. I moan into you and you mutter, “Fuck,” tossing your head side-to-side.

“I’m going to come,” you say.

I grunt, unable to break away. Do it. Come on my face, you sexy goddess.

I feel your thighs against my cheeks. Something like a guttural mew reverberates through you. Your back arches from the bed and then your body goes weak. But I got you. I slip a finger inside as I kiss you, lashing you with my tongue until you spurt all over my face. I don’t stop, only slow to tender kisses until your aftershocks cease.

I sit up, my cheeks dripping onto the bed.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“Don’t be. That was fucking hot.”

“I didn’t know I could do that.”

“First for me, too,” I say.

I stand and walk to the sink. My cock swings heavily, reminding me of my own needs. I rinse my face and towel off. When I turn back, you’re dressed again. You’re standing by your monitor.

I get the meaning. I’ll get dressed.

Satisfying you was divine. It’s okay if you don’t return the favor. Really.

You have patients. You need to get back to work.

Your cheeks are bright red. Your post-orgasm glow makes me smile. It’s a good look on you.

“I’ll get dressed.”

“No,” you say, “you won’t. Not yet.”

You drop to your knees, spreading wide apart to adjust the height of your lips to meet the tip of my cock.

Those ruby red lips stretch around my tip. As your tongue flicks across my head, along the hole there, I brace myself against your workstation, knocking something off of it. Goddamn, that feels unreal.

“You keep that up and I’m going to come in five seconds.”

“Mmhmm,” you mouth around my cock.

You suck more of me in but I know you can’t take much more. You have a small mouth. Your lips are already stretched thin. I cup your chin, running my thumb over your cheek.

Seeing you like this is ruining me for any other woman.

You wrap both hands around my shaft, one stacked in the other, and start pumping me.

My balls shift and I feel more pre-cum leaking. You groan, as if nourished by it.

You stroke harder, faster.

“I mean it. I’m going to co-“

I feel your thumbs pinch the solid ridge on the bottom of my cock. It keeps my orgasm at bay, keeps my come from escaping, but my body can only handle so much.

My leg shakes. My belly tightens.

“Fuck,” I groan. “Please.”

You nod, easing the pressure of your thumb. My cock erupts, pulsing, spilling streams deep in your mouth. Your eyes widen with the first wave, only growing with each shot.

You swallow it all. You pump me as you suck hard, ensuring any leftover semen is emptied. Then you pull free with a loud pop and smile up at me.

“I really need to see my other patients,” you say.

“I really need to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

I help you to your feet and ask for your number. You turn back to your workstation with a smile. My heart is thumping now.

You want to see me again…

You give me your number. I’m already typing you a text. I send it before I even reach the elevator.