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   BetweenHerLegs says -

   This story, like all BetweenHerLegs stories, is a literary exploration
of sexual fantasy.  It it not intended to describe actual persons or
events, nor to condone or encourage any of these activities.  Likewise,
this and every other piece of erotica on this site should not be read by or
to minors, nor by or to anyone for whom these materials are illegal,
immoral, or ill-advised.

   Otherwise...  enjoy!

   Love and kisses,

   Jenny (ManyJennies@yahoo.com)

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   "Worth any PRice"

   by BetweenHerLegs

   (C) Jenny Clark, 2008

   Dr.  Melle Swann would have been a young up-and-comer if she had been a
man.  She had just completed a very competitive and highly prized
residency, had excelled in med school, and had been very active with
several fund-raising campaigns.  But it didn't matter what era, there still
wasn't much interest among major hospitals for hiring a young woman into a
top-tier surgical opening.  Preference always went to a lesser qualified,
even if not older, man.  She wasn't too proud to sleep her way into a
position, but she was too gay to sex up a man for it, and all the people
making the hiring decisions were men.

   And the men would have had her if she'd offered.  She was just a little
taller than average, and in better physical condition than just about any
woman she'd met who wasn't a professional athlete.  She had a naturally
golden complexion, dark brown hair that fell below her shoulders, and eyes
the same color.  She rarely smiled, but her face was serene and thoughtful,
and no less attractive for it.  Her curves were more than a little generous
for her lean waistline and trim limbs, but her fitness kept them toned and
and perky.

   But she wasn't about to offer herself to a man.

   On the other hand, a woman with influence over a man?  That was a whole
other story.

   Toni Harrison was the assistant to Walter Eastman, the director of a
private hospital.  She was in her forties, but still had good skin and and
a fairly tight body.  A brunette who invariably wore her hair up, she had
large breasts, but was otherwise lean for a woman of her age.  Toni was
also, by all accounts, Eastman's second brain.  More than a secretary, she
really helped him run the place.  He consulted her on every decision, and
she had the privilege of taking initiative in raising issues with him if
she so desired.  As a rule, Melle assumed most women were regrettably
straight.  For that reason she never stepped out and offered herself up to
them.  But while trying to persuade Toni to put in a word for her with
Eastman, the director's assistant had been clearly eying her body.

   This morning, Melle was wearing a navy blue dress with a high neckline,
but also a high hemline.  As with most of her clothes, she bought it to fit
her waist size, so it was a little tight around her chest and hips.  She
wore little makeup, but she did have on a white gold necklace, sheer
pantyhose, and a pair of high heels in the same shade as her dress.  Once
she realized that Toni might be interested in her, she took full advantage
of her outfit, leaning and stretching and twisting at every opportunity.

   Finally Toni motioned her closer.  Melle leaned over the desk.  "Yes?"

   "Is it true what I head about you?" Toni asked in a quiet voice.

   "What's that?"

   "That you're, you know?"

   "No, I don't know."

   Toni whispered the word: "Lesbian."

   Melle smiled slightly.  "Yes."

   Toni cleared her throat and rose from behind her desk.  "Come with me,"
she said gently, leading the doctor to an unused second office in the same
reception area.  Melle had been having a dry spell anyway, so if this
worked out like she was hoping, it would be fantastic all around.  She was
pleased to see that even though Toni's hips had only a slight curve to
them, her ass was well defined and round.

   When they entered the office, Toni shut the door.  She walked over next
to a couch, and smiled.  She slowly begin to undo the top buttons on her
red dress.  "Dr.  Swann, I think you can help me answer a question I've
always had."

   "What's that?" Melle asked eagerly, climbing up onto the couch, and
kneeling next to one arm rest.

   "I've never gotten much out of a man's kissing my breasts," she
admitted, wriggling out of the top of her dress, so that it hung about her
waist.  "I've always wondered it it would be better if a woman kissed
them." And just like that she undid the front clasps of her bra and exposed
her chest to the doctor.

   "You'll love it," Melle said seriously, leaning over the arm rest to
pull the other woman towards her.  She opened her mouth and extended her
tongue teasingly as she rubbed her cheek on the beautiful tits.  "You'll
love it," she said again.

   "I already do," Toni purred, clutching the other woman's head to her.

   Suddenly, there was a noise behind her, and Melle tried to turn and see,
but Toni held her too tight.  The assistant was strong.  Melle feltt hands
on her hips and ass as she was bent over the arm rest.  Her dress was hiked
up.  A hand reaching between her legs and rubbing.  She tried to squirm
free but couldn't.  Toni had her gripped tight.  Now her pantyhose were
being pulled down.  And suddenly there was something on her pussy, pressing
against it.  Hard and warm.  And then it was inside her.

   It was nothing that Melle would have recognized as sex.  She would not
have chosen it.  She assumed that it was Eastman, though, and decided that
as long as it was happening to her anyway, adopting a more accepting
attitude might be to her advantage.  So she started to rock back against
him.  Even as she did, she also started to kiss and suck on Toni's tits. 
They were there and they were lovely; they shouldn't go to waste.

   To Melle's delight, Toni shift slightly and loosened her grip, offering
her nipple to the direct attention of the would-be surgeon.  To Melle's
surprise, as Eastman gripped her hips and caressed her ass, fucking her
from behind, she realized that her pussy was moistening in response, and it
was getting better.  Still not something she would choose, but it was okay.

   Toni made an incomprehensible sound of animal pleasure in response to
Melle's mouth work.  She squirmed as she stood, fingernails raking up and
down along the back of the doctor's head.  "Is your tongue that effective
on other parts of a woman's body?" she panted.

   "More," Melle teased, sucking the tip of one breast into her mouth hard
before flicking her tongue over its nipples as rapidly and fiercely as she
could.

   "Fuckin A, you're hot," Eastman said, his New England accent confirming
it was him.  "You ever been fucked by a man like this, though?"

   Melle bit back a sarcastic that might have referenced her clumsy
heterosexual couplings at the beginning of high school, and instead said,
truthfully, "Not really."

   "Then you've never felt this before," he said.  As he did, he leaned
into her and thrust his cock hard and deep.  She had assumed he had been
plunging his full length into her.  He hadn't.  Now he did.  His entire
manhood deep inside her, rubbing along the underside of her cervix.  It
almost felt like he was in her belly.

   "Oh god," she grunted involuntarily.

   Eastman pulled back and then stroked in again, just as deep.

   "Oh my fucking god," she panted.

   As the director continued to stroke her, slow and deep from behind,
Melle lost the ability to act.  Her mouth stopped working over Toni.  Her
hips stopped rocking.  She could do nothing but lean over the arm of the
couch and make stupid exclamations of amazement.  Not only was this a
feeling she'd never had before, but it was a good feeling.  A really good
feeling.  So good that when he pulled out without warning, she actually
missed the feeling.

   "Put it back in, put it back in," she pleaded.  "Please, please,
please."

   "I can't hold out, babe," Eastman said, gesturing Toni to kneel on the
floor beside them.  The pretty middle-aged woman did so, obediently, and
within a matter of seconds, Eastman had fisted himself to completion all
over his assistant's chest.

   Melle wasn't thinking clearly.  She moved into a sitting position,
staring at his cock as it softened.  That thing had been inside her.  And
she had enjoyed it.  And she wanted it again.  What was wrong with her?

   "Can you go again?" she asked desperately.

   "Not yet," he said.  "Maybe I'll be ready after you clean up Toni."

   "Clean up ...  ?"

   "Yeah," he said.

   Melle looked at Toni.  The forty-something woman's face betrayed a
mixture of fear and anticipation.  She wasn't sure she would like a woman
licking cum off her, but she was sure wanted to find out.  Melle herself
was pretty positive she wanted nothing to do with a man's cum, but she
wouldn't mind getting her mouth on Toni again.

   "This is an expensive dress," she said, standing and getting undressed.
"Mind if I take it off?"

   "Not all," Eastman assured her with a grin.  "But leave the shoes on."

   Smiling with a mixture of amusement and unexpected arousal, Melle
stripped naked and then slipped back into her navy blue high heels.  She
then shifted to the floor, each hand caressing one of Toni's arms.  She
leaned in toward the assistant's chest.  She paused at that point to
mentally brace herself.  A man's cum.  Was any job worth that?  Probably.
And she really wanted to feel him inside her again, and knew that she would
do just about anything to get that feeling back, even if it meant tasting
his cum.

   So she did.  Melle began by sticking out out her full lower lip and
using it like a a soft squeegee, wiping Eastman's semen from Toni's
breasts. After a moment she lifted her face and slowly curled the lightly
plumped lower lip back into her mouth.  She bit it gently and then sucked
the cum from it.

   She actually enjoyed the slick texture and the salty, slightly acrid
flavor.  She went back to Toni's breasts, now with her tongue.  As Toni
groaned and fell to a seated-kneeling position, Melle slipped her hand
between the woman's beautiful legs.  She might as well give the girl a good
time.

   She was very patiently working her hand up towards Toni's womanhood when
suddenly Eastman pushed her to the floor, away from the older brunette. 
Melle didn't object as the man lay her on her back.  In fact, she spread
her legs wide for him.  At first he knelt between her legs, rubbing his
cock over her pussy lips teasingly, but when she raised her beautiful legs,
high heels and all, and wrapped them around his back, like a spider pulling
in its prey, he did not persist in teasing.

   The moment his hardon slipped between her lower lips, Melle let out a
great groan and arched toward him.  Her legs wrapped around his waist
tightly.  Her hands clutched his head to her chest.  As he suckled hungrily
on her breast, she could only think about his long, steely heat inside her,
stretching her walls and touching places she hadn't known were accessible
to another person.

   Eastman worked like a piston within her tight embrace, pumping as
steadily and as vigorously as possible.  "You're so tight," he panted, his
voice muffled by her her gorgeous breasts.

   "I've never had a man like you before," she told him, in the heat of the
moment regretting that she'd waited this long.  "And I never use dildos."

   "So much the better for me," he grunted out.  He was gripping her
shoulders now, lifting himself up a little and thrusting harder, faster,
and occasionally deeper.  Every so often he would thrust slightly to one
side, the angle rubbing her swollen inner walls.

   Melle could only arch her back and take the pounding in her pussy with
closed eyes and open mouth.  Her legs slid off his back.  This freedom
allowed him to suddenly ram his cock powerfully up toward her g-spot, and a
few strokes later, Melle was gasping and arching her back high the air as
she felt her insides spasm and quiver.  Eastman did not relent, kept
stroking the same area.  In no time at all, she was screaming with a series
of small but powerful climaxes, each provoked by his stimulation of her
quivering insides, one orgasm turned into another.

   Without warning, he raised up out of her, and started to stroke his
cock. "I'm about to explode all over you, hot stuff."

   Though she hardly recognized this side of herself, Melle smiled with
anticipation, and struggled up into a sitting position, looking up into his
eyes.  Her face was only inches from the swelling, purple head of his cock.


   "Mmm yeah," he groaned, stroking harder.

   The beautiful young surgeon opened her mouth and lewdly extended her
tongue.  That was enough for him.  His rod quivered and then exploded with
irregular spurts of sticky white cum.  Melle took it on her tongue, on her
face, in her hair, even a little in her eye.  She thought he was finished
with his load, and didn't realize that he was still beating off, so as she
looked up at him, humming with pleasure, eyes wide, mascara running from
his semen, she was surprised to catch two more shots, right in her eye.

   Melle collapsed against the couch.  Her body was tired, her mind
confused, and her spirit exhilarated.  She was pleased to see Eastman
himself sit down on the couch, tired and spent.  Pleased that she had
provided him with a full sexual workout, Melle smiled and started to try
and wipe her eyes clear with the back of her hand.

   "Thank you, Director," she said, her voice exhausted.

   "No, thank you, Dr.  Swann," he said.  "Anything for our new orthopedic
surgeon."

   As fantastic as her first sex with a man had been, it would have been
worth it anyway, because it got her the job she wanted.  Despite having
thoroughly enjoyed her turn as a straight slut, she assumed that it would
be a one-time experience.  It had been good, but it had been a one time
thing brought about a certain set of circumstances that could never really
be replicated again.  Nevertheless, she found herself longing to feel a man
inside her again.  She brought a pretty young girl home from a bar one
night, begged her to use a dildo, and found it an unsatisfying plastic
replica.  The lesbian sex had been good, but she was craving the sensation
of another person so warm and hard, filling her from the inside.

   She was almost to the point of trying to figure out how to find a male
prostitute, when another answer presented itself to her.  A patient's
husband.  He was young, handsome, and looked very strong.  Melle was
meeting with him in her office, discussing the results of his wife's
surgery.  The whole time they talked, she moved about the office as
sensually as could, and tried to flirt without being obvious.  After all,
not only was he married, but his wife was in the hospital -- and in her
care.

   They started to chat about this and that after going over the medical
things, and she sat on the edge of her desk, legs crossed, one high heel
dangling off her foot.  She laughed when it fell off, and then gasped
loudly as a quick tremor passed through her body.  She looked down and saw
Mr.  Briggs, on his knees, sucking her now-exposed toes.  The man's mouth
was gentle, obscenely wet, and softer than she had imagined a man's mouth
could possibly feel.  She couldn't help gasping repeatedly as the married
man sucked and licked his way down the row of toes.

   "Mr.  Briggs, what are you doing?" she managed to pant.

   Briggs looked intense as he looked up at her with his mouth wide open,
tongue running circles around Melle's long, pretty toes.  "I've never
cheated on Olivia before," he admitted.  "I've never wanted to."

   "I'm glad you changed your mind," Melle encouraged him, her face equally
intense as she leaned back and had to use her hands to brace herself.

   "It's all your doing," her patient's husband said.  "I've never met a
woman who exuded as much sexuality as you do."

   She uncrossed her legs, leaving them slightly parted.  As Briggs slowly
kissed his up the top of her foot to the back of her calf, she shivered. 
"I hope you're not shocked," she said.

   "Shocked?"

   "When I wear skirts, I don't wear any panties."

   He looked up the length of her shapely leg, and she spread just a little
more for him.  "God," he said, the word hardly more than an animal sound
erupting from the back of his throat.  He reached up inside her skirt and
clutched at the naked flesh of her hips, all the wall, kissing his way to
the inside of her thighs.

   Melle slid a little towards him, bringing her bare pussy very close to
his face.  The stimulus was enough for him.  He abandoned the foreplay, and
went for it.  Briggs grabbed her legs with his strong hands and spread them
wide.  He then turned his head sideways and began sliding his tongue up and
down her burning hot slit, working deeper into her with each pass.  As
strong as his hands were, her thigh muscles were stronger, and she fought
to bring her thighs closer together, almost crushing his head between them
within her skirt.

   He used his mouth well, but she didn't want his mouth.  "Fuck me, Mr. 
Briggs," she begged.  "I want your cock inside me."

   He didn't need a second invitation to the beautiful pussy of his wife's
doctor.  Leaving her on the edge of her desk, he hiked her skirt up, and
dropped his trousers and boxers as quickly as he could.  He was rock hard
already, and she stared admiringly at his cock as he pressed it up against
her pussy, and slowly worked itself into her depths.

   "Oh yeah," he said, closing his eyes and starting to work rhythmically.
"You're very tight."

   "And so wet for you, Mr.  Briggs," she groaned, clutching at the edge of
the desk for balance.  She kept her eyes open to watch his beautiful
manhood as it pumped her pussy.  Not only was he big, but he knew how to
fuck.  Every single stroke found her g-spot without needing any search
time. "You're incredible."

   Briggs was silent now.  He could only pant as he concentrated on his
work.  He maintained the slow, deliberate pace as long as he could.  It was
Melle who had finally had too much.  She clutched at his shoulders and
pulled him up onto the desk, between her legs.  "Faster," she begged. 
"Harder."

   He complied.  And then went faster than that.  And harder.  "Yes!" she
screamed.  This was the feeling.  This was what she had been craving.  "Oh
god, yes, don't stop!"

   "Oh fuck," he shouted.  "Oh god."

   "Don't pull out," she begged him, panting as she fucked up against him,
wrapping her legs tightly around him.  "Fill my pussy with your cum."

   "Fucking god damn yes!" he shouted, his erection jerking hard inside
her.

   She felt his cock spasm, felt him throbbing against her walls.  "Yes,"
she encouraged.  "Yes, don't stop."

   But he slid out of her.  "Sorry, hon," he said, "that's all I've got for
now."

   Melle was on the verge of her climax, and didn't want to be left
hanging. She grabbed his head hard and pulled it down to her cum-sopping
pussy.  He fought and pulled away.  She screamed at him.  He called her
psychotic, and beat a hasty retreat.

   "Fucking men," she shrieked, literally spitting after him.  What had she
been thinking?  Whether a cock felt good inside her or not, it wasn't worth
putting up with a man to get it.  She was in a bad way, and she thought
about just bringing herself off a couple times to relax the tension, but
then she decided on a better plan.

   Mr.  Briggs' wife was recovering from reconstructive knee surgery. 
There was nothing wrong with the rest of her.  And she was gorgeous.  And
married to that bastard.  So Melle went to the hospital.

   As attractive as the surgeon might have been, Olivia Briggs made her
self-conscious.  The patient was over six-feet tall, thin and shapely like
a model.  She had curly black hair that was impeccably cut, and obscene
long eyelashes with large green eyes.  Even without makeup her complexion
was perfect and her lips rosy red.  Perhaps best of all, the hospital gown
she wore showed off her long, beautiful legs.

   When Melle arrived, she went through the normal routine of checks and
questions, but then paused by the side of the bed.  She looked into her
patient's glamorously beautiful face and smiled.  She reached down to touch
the woman's knee -- her good knee, which was naked and exposed not
protected by a brace.

   "Wrong knee," Olivia joked.

   "Depends," Melle said with a smile, brushing her fingertips lightly up
and down the inside of the other woman's leg.

   "Depends on what?" Olivia asked, her voice and face betraying some
apparent discomfort.

   Melle let her fingers trail down the length of the other woman's calf.
"Depends on if I'm palpating your injury location or just promoting your
recovery with a gentle, healing touch."

   "Which are you trying to do?" Olivia asked, her face now inscrutable. 
Their eyes were locked.  Melle's hand was gliding oh-so-slowly up towards
the woman's thigh.

   "I thought I might try the healing touch," the surgeon offered, blowing
some stray strands of hair out of her face.

   "I'm not sure I'm ready for a healing touch."

   Melle pressed her hand gently into the patient's inner thigh, bringing
an involuntary noise from the woman.  "Is it because of the touch or
because of who's giving the touch?"

   Olivia answered hesitantly, "I'm not sure."

   "I'm your doctor," Melle insisted gently, "and I think this is what you
need." She began rubbing little circles in Olivia's thigh, working
gradually upward, between her sculpted legs.

   "I'm married, Dr.  Swann, shouldn't my husband be the one healing me?"

   "It's not the same sort of healing," Melle explained, her fingertips now
a hair away from the woman's pussy.  "Besides, I know for certain that your
husband has been busy using his healing techniques elsewhere."

   "Really."

   "Mm-hmm."

   "But I've never been...  healed...  by a woman before."

   "Then it's time, isn't it?"

   Melle extended a long, elegant finger and gently rolled it around the
patient's lower lips.  "You don't need to do anything, just sit back and
let the healing wash over you."

   As the surgeon's finger gently worked its way down into the heart of her
slit, Olivia closed her eyes, and groaned a little.  "It's not me that it's
going to go washing over."

   At that, Melle laughed softly, and used her free hand to lift the bottom
of Olivia's gown so that she could watch her finger loosening the woman up.
Olivia was shaved clean except for a small, black tuft at the top.  Melle
had never seen a pussy quite so smooth and flawless as hers.  "You're
beautiful," she whispered, sliding her finger most of the way inside her
patient.

   Olivia just groaned and arched her back.

   She didn't need much incentive, but Melle took that as he cue to step up
the action.  She slid her finger all the way inside Olivia and began
working it slightly in and out, but mostly around in circles.  She pressed
each of the other woman's pulsing inner walls, which were quickly swelling
in on the finger.  The surgeon climbed up into the bed and bent down to
kiss the top of her patient's thighs.  "So beautiful," she repeated, now
adding a second finger.  She was frigging Olivia much harder now, though
only a little faster.

   "Oh!" Olivia gasped, thrusting against the action of the doctors
fingers, as one hand clutched at the other woman's hair.  "Oh, doctor."

   Melle paused, holding both fingers deep, deep inside the gorgeous
woman's pussy.  She crooked them a little and then began rocking them back
and forth.  As she did this, she slid her mouth wetly towards Olivia's
mound.  Olivia gave out a little cry, and tugged the surgeon's hair hard.

   "No!" she begged.  "Not that."

   Melle extended her tongue as lewdly as possible, almost touching the
place where her fingers entered her lover's body.  "What's wrong, hon?"

   "Not that, please."

   "Why not?"

   Olivia's grip was tight on her surgeon's hair, not allowing the other
woman to dip her head any lower.  "My husband's never even done that.  It
wouldn't be right."

   "Right?"

   "I don't know, I'm scared."

   "Scared it won't feel good?" Melle asked, straining against the painful
force on her hair to approach the pretty pussy.

   Olivia surrendered, letting go of Melle's hair and throwing her good leg
over the doctor's shoulder.  "Scared it might feel too good," she admitted.

   Melle hummed as she pressed her face against the pussy.  It was warm and
moist, yielding to her passionate kisses.  She continued to slide her two
fingers in and out now, slowly, but searching for the other woman's g-spot
with each stroke.  She sucked and kissed and lapped at every inch of the
woman's beauty.  When Olivia began to squirm tensely, Melle knew she was
getting close to her first orgasm, and decided to make it a good one. 
Speeding up her fingers, her mouth slid to the woman's clitoris.  With
tongue and lips she revealed the aching little love bud, which she
immediately began to suckle.

   It was far too much for Olivia, who had never received oral sex before
at all, and she cried out and hunched her entire body as she came.  The
surgeon didn't let up, though, instead began stabbing rapidly with her
fingers at the other woman's g-spot.  She continued to suck and lick, and
even nip at her clit.  Following as it did so close upon her first climax,
this attention overwhelmed Olivia.  The patient could do nothing except
make animal noises and claw at her lover's head as her body spasmed out of
control.

   When she finally could take no more, Olivia yanked Melle's hair again,
this time pulling her off and pulling her up on top of herself.  "Thank
you, thank you, oh god, oh god, thank you," she panted, kissing the surgeon
and tasting her own pussy on the other woman's face.  "You're so pretty,
god," Olivia added, still out of breath, covering Melle's face with clumsy,
wet kisses.  "I can't believe what you just did for me."

   Melle just smiled and hummed against her lover's mouth.

   Olivia opened her mouth wide and accepted the other woman's tongue.  The
erotic sensation of another woman's tongue, so sweet and soft, so curious
and passionate, was enough to cause another quiver inside Olivia, and she
cried out before rolling herself and her lover so they were on their sides.
She clutched at the surgeon's hip, loving the feel of another woman's body,
and then said, "Now it's your turn."

   Melle was not only desperate to be pleasured by the gorgeous woman, but
was still wound up from having been left hanging by the woman's husband
earlier.  She closed her eyes and smiled in anticipation.

   And then there was the sound of general shouting, and she opened her
eyes again.

   They had been discovered.

   Olivia scrambled to cover up her indecency, and Melle tumbled out of the
hospital bed.  When she pulled herself up to her feet, she saw who had come
in.  It was Director Eastman.

   "Good god, Dr.  Swann," he was saying, "have you no self control
whatsoever?"

   Melle frowned, her serious face able to convey venom quite effectively.
"If I had self control, I wouldn't have this job," she remarked quite
pointedly.

   "You don't have this job anymore," Eastman growled.  "You cannot take
advantage of your patients like this."

   "She wasn't taking advantage of me," Olivia said, looking scared.

   Melle looked at her patient with confusion.  She hadn't felt bad about
what they were doing, but she wouldn't deny that she had been taking
advantage of the other woman.  Director Eastman looked at them both with
disbelief.  "What do you mean?" he demanded.

   "I wanted her first," Olivia said hurriedly.  "I seduced her."

   "You did what?"

   "I seduced her.  She's so beautiful," Olivia said, calming down some as
she spoke now.  "She has such a pretty, sophisticated face," she continued,
"and her body is so tight but so curvy, I just couldn't stop looking at
her. And thinking about her.  And when she came in just now, I reached out
and grabbed her hips and just pulled her to me.  I sweet-talked her.  And I
pulled her into my bed."

   "Is this true?" Eastman asked, turning to Melle.

   Melle had no intentions of letting this woman take the hit for her.  She
was apparently as generous and kind as she was beautiful.  She deserved
more respect than that.  But as she opened her mouth and started to answer,
she got a sharp glance from the patient in the hospital bed.  "Yes," she
answered.  "I mean, she . . .  " Melle started to lose her voice as she
looked at the other woman.  She was so tall and so glamorous.  Yet her eyes
were pleading for Melle to let her be the bad guy.  The surgeon had never
known such a sacrificing spirit in such an attractive container.  It was
compelling.  And overpowering.  She swallowed heard, and finally answered
the director, but her eyes kept roaming over Olivia's face, trying to
memorize it since she would never see it again.  "I mean, she and I made a
bad choice to do this here, but there was no taking advantage.  If you can
look at her and not understand how I couldn't resist her, then you're not
opening your eyes, Director."

   Olivia smiled.  And Melle found herself smiling.  It wasn't something
she did often, but when she smiled it was a big, wide smile that
incorporated her whole face.

   "No, I can certainly see why neither of you could resist," Eastman
allowed, softening.  "But this is a hospital for crying out loud.  People
outside the door could hear you."

   "Sorry, Director," Melle apologized.

   "Sorry," Olivia added quietly.

   "Don't let it happen again," Eastman added.  Both women nodded, but he
could see a sudden shadow of doubt or regret cross their faces so he added,
"Bite on a pillow or some thing so you at least don't scream out."

   They smiled, and he left.  The moment the door was shut, Melle climbed
back up into her patient's bed and started to undress as they kissed. 
"Thank you."

   "No, thank you," Olivia insisted, caressing her lover's increasingly
exposed body.  "I've never been a lesbian before."

   Melle smiled as she slid out of her skirt.  "I used to be a lesbian,"
she said.  "Then I wasn't.  Now I am again."

   "Naughty doctor," Olivia scolded her.  "No panties?"

   Melle just sighed with pleasure and lay next to the other woman. 
Olivia's fingers began to explore her body with both curiosity and desire.
She knew her own body, but had never known another woman's.  It was a
fascinating experience for her, and Melle could see both her interest and
her passion increasing with every touch.  Olivia scooted a little away from
her more experienced lover to watch as the other woman's breasts responded
to her touch.  At first she only let her fingertips dance around the soft
flesh, but watching the breasts heave with breath and seeing the nipples
harden encouraged her that this was a good thing.  She cupped her lover's
tits firmly, flexing the palms of her hands to massage them.

   Melle turned her face into a pillow and groaned.

   Smiling with delight at having pleased the surgeon, Olivia giggle
girlishly and trailed her hands down Melle's sides, along the curve of her
back, and to her ass.  She caressed its firm shape, surprised at how good
it felt in her hands.  She didn't realize quite how aroused Melle was,
however, and was caught off guard when the surgeon grabbed one of those
hands and pulled it around to her mound.  "Please," Melle begged. 
"Please."

   Olivia was not one to give easily into pleas for sexual release.  She
smiled, and ran her tongue around the lips of her lover, while two fingers
traced the contours of Melle's mound.  Down, then back up, and then down
again.  On their return up, she allowed them to dance now around the outer
surface of her pussy itself.  Thrilled less by the novelty of the sensation
and more by the sheer delightfulness of all the complex textures and
surfaces, Olivia's smile dissolved into animal passion.  She could resist
Melle's begging no longer.  Kissing the surgeon deeply, Olivia plunged a
finger deep inside her and held it there.  If she felt linger traces of her
husband's cum she either didn't recognize them for what they were or else
didn't care.

   Both women gasped into their kiss.  Olivia couldn't believe how it felt
to be inside a woman.  It was like nothing she could have imagined.  The
shapes were not entirely unlike her own, yet still she ran her finger
deliberately over every one of them to test and memorize each surface. 
Even in the similarity, touching Melle from the inside was nothing like
playing with herself.  There was a spiritual component.  As if the warm,
wet portal was a gateway inside the woman herself.  As if the swelling of
her inner walls were not embracing her finger, but encouraging it onward,
welcoming her inside her lover's spirit.

   Olivia kissed Melle harder than she'd ever kissed another person.  Her
mouth was hungry, ravenous.  Teeth gnashing, tongues battling, lips trying
desperately to engulf the surgeon.  With three fingers now she tried to
crawl inside her lover.  With her mouth she tried to crawl around her. 
Hoping to surround and engulf Melle inside and out.

   Suddenly, she felt the surgeon's hand return to her pussy with a hard
stroke of two longer fingers.  Olivia bit her own lip hard and threw her
head back.  Their bodies swayed against one another, fingers thrusting. 
Eyes open, they kissed.  Melle's face was screwed up with a desperate look
somewhere between pain and passion.  A sudden surge in wetness told Olivia
that her lover was cumming.  She thrust harder with her fingers.  Melle did
the same.  Rocking against each other in the hospital bed.  Surgeon and
patient.  Olivia didn't know if they were making love or just fucking, but
she was entranced by whatever they were doing.

   Without warning, Melle turned her head and bit her pillow hard, rolling
away from Olivia's hand and bucking violently.  For several moments, her
body bucked and spasmed.  When finally she released the pillow from her
mouth and turned to face her patient, Melle's eyes were glazed over and her
mouth hanging open.  She tried to say something but could not.

   Olivia was overcome by the sense of have just rendered her lover totally
helpless, and she too came again, a quiet tremor that coursed through her
entire body, seeming to emanate from her very center and work out like a
shock wave.  She shivered in its wake and then slowly brought her hand up
toward her mouth.  She'd never tasted even her own juices until she had
kissed Melle after receiving oral sex earlier.  But as she stared into the
other woman's eyes she was eager to take her fingers into her mouth and
taste Melle.  She opened wide and took all three fingers in, running her
tongue around and between them.

   Then, smiling and giggling like a little girl, the beautiful married
woman looked at the fingers in awe and then asked her surgeon, "Can I be a
lesbian again tomorrow, Dr.  Swann?"

   The response was slow and difficult.  "I know I will be." Melle, her
body aching and her spirit soaring, felt her mind clarify.  She didn't know
what was to become of her and Olivia.  They would be together again
tomorrow.  That was enough to contemplate for now.  For a moment she almost
allowed herself to think it had been a mistake to allow herself to be used
for sex by two men.  Then she realized that without allowing Eastman to
fuck her, she would never have gotten the job.  If she hadn't gotten the
job she wouldn't have met either Mr.  or Mrs.  Briggs.  And if she hadn't
enjoyed her first cock enough to want another, she would never have dallied
with Olivia Briggs' husband -- and would not have rebounded with Olivia
herself.  And no matter its long-term possibilities, this moment with
Olivia was worth whatever price she had paid.

   Lost in thought, she was caught off-guard when she felt Olivia's soft,
wet tongue reach out and taste her delicate inner folds.  Melle cried out
loudly, and then, looking down at the beautiful woman who was curled up
between her legs, cried out again.  Olivia began to gently suck her way
around those delicate inner lips.  Yes, worth any price.

   *** *** *** *** ***

   Read more from Jenny about this story at:
   /~BetweenHerLegs/spoilers.html