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springbeann · 3 months ago

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strangers.

Pairing: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Female!Reader/Slight Original Female Character (No names or y/n used but called Angel as a nickname) Summary: As you stare down the barrel of residency, stress, and anxiety, you decide that one last carefree night is what you needed. And a stranger in a bar is exactly what the doctor ordered. Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, age gap relationship (older man/younger woman), hook up culture, Soft!Dom Robby, overstimulation Crossposted to AO3

“You’re too pent up angel, we need to get you laid and fast- because I’m not going into our intern year with you practically foaming at the mouth.” Elbow digging into his ribs, you scoff. You’re fine. So it’s been 2 years since you’ve had sex? You can use your fingers, it’s worked since you were 15- it’ll work another few years. But lately it hasn’t been enough and the daunting stress of your impending residency years have you wanting to chew concrete.

“Frankie I’m fine-” you grumble, nursing your beer because if you drink any faster you’ll just get another. And another. And another and that’s not good because tomorrow is your first day and-

“What about him?” He cut you off- nodding not so secretly to the man on your left a few stools away. Um- no. He looked like Langdon- freshman year, frat boy status with his cap backwards that’s no doubt hiding a receding hairline. And the frat boy look would’ve worked if he didn’t look well past the appropriate age.

“Okay- picky, picky, um- him?” Nodding to the younger bartender, slicked back hair and probably weighed 100 pounds soaking wet. No. That was a child. You’re never letting Langdon set you up again- what’s he blind? You consider scheduling an eye exam for him when-

“Oh sure- definitely him.” Frank points his beer towards the other side of the bar with a smirk and sarcasm laced laugh. But- well? He did look handsome, tapping away at his phone with a beer in his hand. Dark hair- heavy, full looking beard, soft sad eyes you can see from here but you couldn’t tell the color yet- brown maybe. Broad shoulders, hoodie pushed up right under his elbows to show his strong forearms. Oh. Oh he might work actually. And Langdon can feel you perk up a bit- okay clearly you liked them older then. Well- if that’s what you wanted- fuck it he guesses. if you like it- he loves it.

“Him? I was joking- I mean, maybe the old man can lay it down who knows?” You roll your eyes but- you were honestly intrigued. He was handsome enough that you didn’t think he would be alone or- well single. And you’re studying his face and the way the beer or his phone look so small in his hands and his eyes meet you- quickly snapping up from his phone and locking onto yours. Fuck. Quickly you look away, moving your head even to make it all the more obvious. But he didn’t look away. He clocked you the moment you sauntered in the bar with the guy next to you. The way your dress swished around your thighs. The way you threw your head back laughing at something your boyfriend, must be your boyfriend because there’s no way you were single. He watched you take a sip of your beer, looking down at the bar still and slowly drag your eyes up to meet his again. Fuck he was still looking at you- dark eyes not leaving yours and it was slightly unsettling but so fucking thrilling. Okay- maybe this could work out in your favor.

“Oh- okay he likes what he sees then?” Frank mumbles around the rim of the bottle, nudging you with his knee a bit. I mean- you have to be confident. Right? Hell yeah he likes what he sees. He should right? You’re hot, smart, a fucking doctor in your prime. He should want you. No reason that he shouldn’t want you. Other than him being taken. Or gay. Or just uninterested in you as a whole but you’ll keep the confidence for now. “Go-“ Frank nudged you again. If he’s good for anything it’s going to be getting his best friend laid tonight. It’ll help his stress more than yours. You don’t go. Not yet. Fucking butterflies in your gut aren’t drowning with the alcohol. Dammit you don’t remember how to flirt. But you and him are playing eye tag across the bar now. Eyes meeting in a game of chicken- who will break contact first. It’s you. Always you. And maybe you’re not interested in him, he thinks. Maybe you’re being polite. But you’re just working up some more nerve because- ok fuck it. Fine. You’ll bite.

“Don’t wait up Frankie” patting his shoulder you hop off the stool in the most graceful way you can manage.

“Have fun,” he finishes the rest of your beer while throwing you some unsolicited remarks, “remember we have to be at the hospital at 8, call me if you need me, use protecti-“ but your annoyed look ceased his rambling. The man across the bar watched you, watched you fucking float over to him in your short dress like a damn sign from god telling him to enjoy himself for once. Nervously chewing at your lip and pulling at your fingers, looking anywhere but at him while you walk over. You could still turn back to Frank, or pass the gorgeous man sitting alone at the bar to act like you were going to the restroom but- no. No, you are getting laid tonight. One last hurrah of your ”carefree“ twenties because the remaining few years will be dedicated to Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Hospital. You needed to relax. You fucking deserved this. And this is all before you talk to him- he hasn’t even told you his name yet and you’re nervous. At least let him agree to sex first.

“This seat taken?” God that sounded awful, so fucking cliche and awkward and you should just apologize and turn around but-

“Waiting for you actually” he smiles, grabbing the stool and pulling it out a bit for you. Okay. So far so good then? You settle into the seat and start to awkwardly scoot yourself closer to the counter but- his hand grabs one of the stool legs and pulls you closer to the counter, closer to him- your knees brushing against each other just barely to where you can register the rough fabric of his jeans on your bare knee. Oh. Oh he was strong and the way his arm flexed and- okay. Focus.

“Do you always drink with that look on your face?” You tilt your head, meaning it more playfully than it came out but- he did have this, sad look about him. Exhausted look behind his eyes and- you could relate really. These last almost two years have been hell.

“And what look would that be sweetheart?” Okay, he’s taken the bait then. Good. Flirt. Flirt fucking hard.

“Like you’re just daring someone to interrupt you.” You tuck a strand of your hair behind your ears, maintaining eye contact but break it- just for a second to trail your eyes down to his lips that were framed with a thick dark beard, dusted in spots with grey.

“Maybe I am?” He sees your eyes, sees the way they watch him. How they darken when you speak and- maybe he can play along. It’s harmless. That’s what bars are for right?

“Might be off putting to some,” you shrug, reaching over to take a small handful of the shitty bar mixed nuts, just needing to occupy your hands, “but I do like a challenge.”

“Is that right? Someone as innocent looking as you?” Goading you, seeing if you’re all talk or- or if you’d actually want to come home with him. He doesn’t do this. He doesn’t know how to pick girls up at the bar.

“You’d be surprised what some strangers are like after a few drinks. Let me buy you another and we can reevaluate?” Waving the bartender over you ask for another round of beers- not waiting for his answer because you play to win, and dammit this prize looked handsome. Older, definitely taller than you, broad shoulders and you squeeze your thighs together tight because you can just imagine his beard-

“I’ll take that challenge then” winking, he takes a long sip of his replenished beer after clinking it with yours. Maybe this was a success? Is it working?

“Good- I’m a girl that likes to win.” He tries to not stare, not look at the innocent way your lips wrap themselves around the rim of the bottle- swallowing the bitter taste and licking your fucking lips after you do. Fuck- was that on purpose?

“Then I guess we’re no longer strangers,” he turns, extending his hand out to yours, “Michael.” Oh. His hands were big, warm, calloused- heavy.

“Angel.” Your smile was sweet, fuck. You looked up at him beneath batting eyelashes and your hands were so soft, smaller in his. He has to force himself to take his hand from yours because he’d fucking hold it all night if you’d let him.

“Your boyfriend going to be okay with you chatting me up?” He nods over to Langdon who was awkwardly drumming his hands on the bar top- a poor attempt at making himself look busy while he stares you both down from the corner of his eye, just in case you need him to rescue you.

“Who? Him? Oh- definitely not my boyfriend. Roommate.” You didn’t have time to regale Michael with the saga of Frank and Angel, it was almost a decade long and many didn’t understand the bond you two shared. So- roommate was what Langdon has been demoted to tonight. He relaxes a bit, thanking god because he’s been in weird situations where couple ask if he’d join them and he’s too fucking old and tired for this poly shit- barely has time for monogamous relationships. You both fall into an easy conversation. He finds out you’re new in town, just moved a week ago for a new job. And you don’t exactly talk about residency right away. Some men find it intimidating if you mention being a doctor right away so- you just pretend you’re someone else tonight. Someone confident and who is used to picking up strangers in a bar. He’s charming. Charming and funny and he loves the way you’re laughing at his little sarcastic jokes and you’re witty and so fucking pretty. He thinks he can do this. He can be the guy that takes home the girl from the bar- at least once right? Jack is always telling him to have fun, to not be so uptight, to fucking go to therapy but until he does go- this will definitely suffice because you’re so close now, leg almost fucking thrown over his under the counter and he can smell the intoxicating aroma of your perfume and like a fucking siren-

“Wanna get out of here?” Low- so low he almost didn’t fucking hear it but- the way you’re looking up at him through your lashes and wet your lips with a dart of your tongue and- fuck yes he wants to get out of here. He smiles, nods and pushes back from the counter to step off the stool and holds out his hand for you to hold as you hop off your own stool. And you don’t pull your hand away- he doesn’t pull his hand away as he waves bye to the older bartender. He’s been coming here for years- bar that’s close to home that he can walk to, bartender who gives him free drinks because of the work he does. And you both just- walk. Walk down the street hand in hand like you’re not practically bouncing and itching to kiss him. The breeze is nice and the conversation is still so easy- he looks at you when you talk, asks questions and adds constructive comments while ducking his head to miss a few branches that you can easily walk under.

His house was nice, quiet neighborhood with a classic single family style look- a porch where he reads the paper, sipping coffee on his day off. And you feel nervous again. Butterflies swarming around in your belly and you have no more alcohol to drown them in because his hand is on your lower back, ushering you inside. It was quiet- simple. You can admire his style while you take off your shoes- from the old record player in the corner of the living room, the shelves of books along the walls where you can make out a title or two that you’ve been dying to read. You thumb through his books, running your fingers along the spines and he has his hands in his hoodie, watching you with desire creeping up in his gut. What were you doing here with him? You were so pretty and smart and funny and- he stops thinking because now you’re rounding his couch and settling into the plush fabric while holding your hand out to him. Okay. Okay he can do this. You can do this. He unzips his hoodie, laying it on the arm of the couch.

“Yes?” He asks smugly, coming to sit next to you on his couch. Taking your hand in his- he kisses your palm, beard tickling gently- then kisses up to your wrist. He can smell the dab of perfume that you sprayed as he kisses gently. Why was this so hot? Letting him kiss up your arm and you don’t realize you’re leaning closer with each kiss until you’re face to face now-

“Can I kiss you?” It comes out barely above a whisper- as if you’re still unsure if he wants this with you like he didn’t just kiss and lick up your arm a second ago. And he laughs- soft and lightheartedly because yes, yes you can fucking kiss him. He’d beg for your soft lips on his and he doesn’t have to wait much longer now as you’re surging forward- knocking into him and throwing yourself in his lap. Okay- maybe you were a little too eager and you’re about to apologize but his hands are in your hair now and- oh this is good. He kisses so eagerly and bites your lip with a tug when he pulls back to look at you and you’re both breathing hard now after just a fucking minute of kissing. Everything feels hot and too much and his hands are on your thighs now- dragging up to your hips from under your dress and he’s actually toying with the band of your underwear now, snapping it absentmindedly. You just- it’s hot and you’re needy and you have to take initiative so you’re pulling your dress up and over your head and he groans. One hand pulls the cup of your bra down and he trails light kisses down your neck, coming up to the swell of your breast and bites- sucking a soothing mark into the stinging feeling and your hands tug at his hair now.

“Let me taste you angel,” he begs, feeling how you grind into his lap- desperately, for some sort of relief. He mumbles against your chest rubbing his beard a little and grinning at the way you gasp at the sensation while he’s easily unclasping your bra with one hand and tossing it on the floor like it’s offended him. He doesn’t give you a chance to answer- grabs your ass to grind harder into him while sucking galaxies along your breasts. “Just- fuck let me use my mouth on you, please?” He’s fucking begging to eat you out? Is he actually? He is. He hasn’t fucked in so long and he knows you’ll taste amazing and if that’s all you want is to cum on his face and in his beard he’ll be happy but-

“I don’t- I’ve never really,” you try to find the words- try to think but the way you can feel him under the rough seam of his jeans has you mindless at the moment. “It’s not my favorite.” You weren’t lying- the few times you’ve had someone between your thighs you just, laid there. Waiting until they were done because it was weird and your clit actually was a few inches to the left and-

“No?” Michael forces himself to pull away from your chest, holding your hips still from grinding and you whine a little- “do you not- like it? If you absolutely don’t want to I understand but-“

“No- no, it’s not that I just-“ you can feel the heat rising in your cheeks now. You’re practically naked in his lap and you’re having this conversation and- “it just feels weird.” You shrug. It did feel weird. Most guy just mindlessly lick and miss your clit and you can easily just use your own fingers and-

“Can I try? Please baby?” God he was begging. Maybe- maybe it’ll be good? Wordlessly, you nod- sit back on the couch to let him kneel in front of you and fuck- it was a sight. On his knees, kissing up your ankle while he slides your underwear down. Okay. Okay, fuck- this was happening. Definitely happening now as he easily pulls you by your knees and slides them over his shoulders. You were mouthwatering. Absolutely appetizing. Wet and glistening in the moonlight for him- whispering for him to taste and he actually moans when he looks.

“Lemme take care of you.” He sighs, readying his tongue between your folds.

“Yeah- sure oka- shit!” You roll your eyes back with a scream, arching your back to where it’s not even touching the couch anymore and the only thing that’s keeping you from ascending to the fucking heavens is the way he has you caged to him. Both legs thrown over his shoulders, forearms around the tops of your thighs and keeping you still. So fucking still- but open for him because his shoulders are massive and wide and you’ll feel the stretch tomorrow for sure. But you can’t seem to care right now. You’ve been on edge for at least an hour now since you’ve met him and are unbearably wet. It would be embarrassing really. He’s licked a single stripe up your cunt and- fuck. His tongue is hot, wet, flat and slowly dragging up your cunt and his beard gives a fucking heavenly scratch against your thighs and- fuck. He’s staring at you. And starting from right below your entrance, trailing so devastatingly slow up to your clit- his eyes never closing or breaking contact. Once he reaches your clit- he swirls his tongue around it for good measure before closing his lips around it and sucks. Fuck. And he was fucking moaning- finally closing his eyes and enjoying the way you tasted and how one of your hands has taken hold in his hair now, pulling just a little. God he was fucking good and you know you’re about to cum soon and it’s going to be so fucking good. He wasn’t lying- it does feel good. You haven’t had sex in so long, hadn’t really even had much time to take care of yourself between prepping for tomorrow and moving and- fuck you were already feeling that swell of ecstasy.

“Good?” He mumbles, smirking against your wet lips and you want to slap his stupid fucking gorgeous face because you can hear the fucking sarcasm in his voice as he’s clearly trying to prove a point now. And you can only nod but- “say it- look at me and tell me how good you feel angel.” Fuck. He’s stopped- you can just feel the ends of his beard against you and you try to grind into it but he’s so much stronger than you are and his eyes are dark and beseeching you to tell him how good his tongue is. How good is fucking mouth feels against your throbbing pussy and-

“Fuck- fuck yes it’s so fucking good Michael please just- don’t stop please baby I need-“ you don’t get to finish your babbles and whimpers because his lips have wrapped themselves around your clit again and you’re melting into his damn couch now. Sinking into the fabric and the only movement you can make is pulling his hair and using the heels of your feet to pull him closer to you. He teases a finger inside, just one and tries to not moan at how tight it feels. Just testing the waters- then another. One more of his thick heavy fingers getting easily sucked into you and it was tight. You’ve had your own for so long but his already have you seeing stars behind your eyes and- he’s pulling them out. No. No no wait. And he laughs because he hears you groan- looking up and he’s replacing his hand back to keep you still and he drags his tongue back down again, swiping at your entrance and shoving it deep inside while one of his thumbs start slow circles around your clit. He was fucking good, knew exactly what he was doing. His other hand finds purchase on your chest- roughly tugging at your nipples and pinching. You’re going to cum, and you’re going to cum in his mouth, and it’s going to be amazing. His tongue- while still inside you is shoved up along your top wall and licks back and forth slowly while working the same pace with his thumb on your clit. Fuck. Your nerves are on fire. Your body contracts and arches into him more as you cry out from your orgasm. Fuck it was good. Slow and steady and creeping up along your body. You’re whining his name and he’s letting you roll your hips into his mouth to ride out the heat and waves.

He was watching you. The entire time. Eyes focused on how you’d bite your lip, throw your head back, use your other hand to grab your breast and you were fucking gorgeous. Fucking ethereal and unreal- cumming on his tongue and whimpering his name so sweetly. And when you finally open your eyes you’re giggling, the adrenaline pumping through your body and you’re pulling him up by his collar to kiss him and taste yourself on his tongue. God he needed you. He needed to bury himself inside you now because he was impossibly hard at the moment and wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand not knowing what you felt like.

“Good angel?” Like he didn’t already know the answer- but you’re still smiling and can barely nod before he stands- tugging you to sit up. “C’mon baby, up-“ easily, he grabs you from the couch and you cling to him- bare legs wrapping around his waist and you can feel how hard he is through his jeans. “I need you so fucking bad sweetheart.” Grunting into the kiss you’ve dragged him into by a tug of his hair- he’s maneuvering through his living room and down the hall to his bedroom but you’re grinding into him now, desperately needing some friction even though he tongue fucked an orgasm out of you minutes ago. “Fuck-“ he stops, tripping almost over the feeling of your bare pussy over him- he’s pushing you against his doorway for a moment and the corner of the wood digging into your back but he takes just a second to compose himself and- “just wait, fuck- just wait until I’m inside you.” You’re not sure if that was a threat- or he’s telling himself to hold out from blowing his load all over his jeans before he’s hand a chance to fuck you into his mattress like he planned. maybe both. Definitely both.

You get placed on his bed- gently and you look up at him with anticipation in your eyes as your hands reach up to capture the hem of his shirt and drag it upwards while you rise to your knees to be eye level. He had never been shy really, he was painfully aware that he doesn’t have the same body he did when he was 20 but- the way your eyes hungrily took him in? He did feel a small pang of insecurity. You were at least 15 years younger than he was, could’ve went home with any one from that fucking bar but you’re here now- in his bed, pulling his belt from the loops of his jeans and dragging the zipper down almost torturously slow. And your eyes didn’t leave his. You smiled. You kissed him. You pulled his jeans down and fucking gasped. Oh. It was- well it was fucking bigger than you expected that’s for damn sure. Your mouth watered, and you feel young and inexperienced all over again because you’re tentatively touching him, just a slow drag of your index finger along the length and he shudders. He was hard- but it was so heavy and thick, his cock wasn’t even able to be held up, the sheer gravity of it kept him hanging deliciously low and you leaned down to take a swipe at it with your tongue, desperate for a taste- but he stopped you.

“No- don’t- I need you now-“ he rasped, forcing himself to tell you no, stroking your cheek and shoving you as gently as he could to lay back on his bed. “I can’t wait any longer sweetheart.” He wants nothing more than to fuck your mouth- have your pretty little eyes watering and looking up at him with your lips wrapped around his cock and drooling for more. But he’s even more desperate to be inside you. He’s tasted you- felt you clench around his tongue and if stuffing his cock in you is half as good as eating your pussy, then Michael needs to fuck you now. He’s crawling up the bed with you, kicking off his jeans and kissing your lips in a firm kiss, tongue licking into your mouth and swirling around yours as he grabs your thighs to come around his waist, feeling the blunt tip of him at your wet entrance. He settles above you- one of his hands holding your thighs open while the other comes to rest atop his headboard- swiping his cock along your folds to tease and collect at the juices that have dripped and finally- he pushes inside you.

“Oh- f-fuck-“ You don’t think you’ve ever gasped when someone stuck it in before. You’re sure of it. Because you would remember this feeling. You would have remembered it because of the way Michael’s feels. Splitting you open, pushing slowly through your tight walls. You’re wet. You’re so fucking wet and where you weren’t naturally wet with your own juices- his own mouth took care of that for you. The only resistance was his size- the tightness of your pussy contracting and working the sheer girth of him through. Fuck. Fuck it’s good. It hurts in the way that feels so fucking right. You feel rearranged, feel him not even fully sheathed within you and- god he still has more? It’s been so fucking long since you’ve had anything besides your own fingers inside you and his were already stretch to begin with earlier. It hurt so fucking good and you whine when he pushed deeper inside you- tensing your thighs around his waist and dragging your nails down his back.

“Almost angel, fuck- fuck almost I-“ God he was already losing what little sense of control he had. He hasn’t had sex in ages and you were so tight and wet and sounded so pretty underneath him and he’s trying to ride out every clench you give around him- but fuck it’s hard. It’s so fucking hard when you’re whining his name and he’s not even fully buried inside you yet. “You’re doing so good for me baby, so good. Almost. Little more ok?” He moans, dropping his head down to kiss your lips because you’re biting them, biting at your lower lip to keep composed because you already feel the waves of another orgasm crawling up your spine and dancing along every fucking nerve that wasn’t burnt from the last one.

It’s hot. Fucking searing. Your orgasm slams into you all at once. The first one was a crescendo of ecstasy that his tongue slowly pulled from your body and let you ride out with it. This? White hot pleasure- ripping into your soul. You feel it in your bones, rattling and shaking with each fucking wave. You make no noise, can’t even fucking breathe because you’re sure whatever neurons you have left have been fried by the way he felt. He wasn’t even fully seated in you, a little over halfway- shoved tightly inside your walls and your body just, gave in. Gave into the indulgent way his cock was inching its way inside you, rubbing up against that spot that your fingers can never quite reach- stroking along with nowhere else to go besides deeper. Of course you came that easily- there was nothing but delicious fucking friction from the way Michael was wedging himself between your legs and how the bit of hair at the top of his cock rubbed so mouthwateringly well against your clit. All you could do was let him keep pushing inside you, his hand coming down to grab one of your legs from around his waist so he can slide it over his shoulder and- fuck.

“Fuck- I feel you cumming angel,” you somehow got wetter, aiding so he can slide in just a bit more with the angle and he presses his forehead against yours now. Sharing panting breaths and hot whiny moans together- finally his hips were flush against yours. “You okay baby? Talk to me,” taking your hand in his, lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently and kissing the back of your hand before letting it rest above your head. He starts a slow pace, inching back out of you slowly and groaning into your mouth. He doesn’t want to cum yet, he wants this, no- needs this to last longer. And it’s hard when you’re squeezing around him and whimpering his name- your perfume is dancing around in his mind and he feels himself pulling tighter and higher. Fuck he’s about to cum. He’s using his headboard to steady himself- the knock of the wood thudding against the wall in a tantric rhythm, would almost have you embarrassed if he wasn’t fucking you so good.

“K-keep going baby- don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop Michael-” you beg him. The rub and heavy drag of him felt so good. Indulgent and sinful because there’s no way sex could be this intense and not be frowned upon by the heavens. He’s kissing and licking at your ankle now, the anklet that you had was scratching at his shoulder and a charm was reflecting the moonlight and he swears he sees fucking stars. One of your hands cards through his hair, then his beard, and you drag your nails down his chest, dancing along the hair that’s trailed from his belly button to his cock and you just let it rest there, stroking your thumb gently. Resting right above his cock only to dig your nails into his lower abdomen and rub your thumb along the marks and- he’s fucking cumming.

“Fuck! Fuck me- so fucking-“ he groans, hot and deep into your calve and bites down hard enough to leave a mark but- he doesn’t stop. No- Michael keeps fucking you, he goes soft for a beat, maybe two but immediately you feel him hardening up again and nudging up into you deeper and- he’s fucking his cum into you now. It’s wet and warm and he doesn’t know what happened to his refractory period but he thanks all the gods he can in this moment so he doesn’t have to leave your tight heat. But he does- he does stop to reluctantly pull out of you and ignores your whining with a chuckle and light slap to your thigh as he rolls you over to your front. Instinctively, you start to arch your back but-

“No- lay flat baby, legs together.” You feel his voice in your ear, tongue licking the shell of it and biting at your lobe while the metal of his chain is between your shoulder blades now. He pushes some of your hair off your shoulder so he can kiss your neck, down your spine a bit with his beard scratching along the way before licking back up from the base of your spine and you shudder, sighing because it’s so good. The anticipation of what he’s going to do next. One of his heavy hands is holding your hip steady now- while the other holds his cock to slide teasingly against your folds. Oh.

“Oh f-fuck me-“ you gasp- biting the meat of your palm from just the stretch alone. The angle has you grabbing at the sheets in front of you- needing something to cling to because between his fucking thick cock and the hand on your hip that’s all you feel from him. You want to open your legs a little more, you try but his legs have you stuck and you try to surge forward to escape the pleasure and-

“No- you can fucking take it,” he growls, a slap to your ass to drive the point home. Fuck. He’s so fucking hard again, fucked you through both your orgasms and immediately still ready to keep pounding into you. “Be a good fucking girl and take it sweetheart.” It’s not slow this time. It’s fucking brutal and you can hear the slap of his hips against your ass. This man- Michael- this fucking stranger has given you two orgasms already and another is quickly flickering in the bottom of your gut- his mind shattering pace is hard to take and you think you can ride it out until he reaches under you and grabs you by your throat to haul you up so your back is pushed into his chest. He doesn’t squeeze- no but his hand is still heavy and he can feel your pulse under his fingers like a good trained doctor. He’d be able to tell you your BP if you asked and if he had the wherewithal to stop his sufferingly brutal pace to do so. He has you on your knees, holding you up with one hand on your neck and the other hand that has captured your own is now trailing down past your stomach- lowering to your soaking cunt to force you to rub your own fucking clit with him.

Fuck it’s so good. The hand of yours that’s not caught between his heavy one and your soaked clit is reaching up to tug at his hair while you turn your head a bit so you can try to see him. You try to breathe evenly because it’s so hot and the air feels heavy now and you swear there are stars beginning to form in your mind as your eyes roll back into your head now. He drags his nose along your temple- the hand resting against your neck trailing a few inches up to hold your jaw and kiss you. Biting and pulling at your lower lip when you open your mouth and moan his name. So sweet. You sound so fucking pretty and wrecked by him. He hasn’t fucked this hard since med school- you’re intoxicating. Your body fucking sings for him- every touch he gives is met with a sigh, a moan, a while of his name. Your hips are rolling back to meet his now and he groans into the kiss- feeling you clench around him again as you tug roughly on his hair.

“Fuck- just like that angel,” Michael has you pulled tight against his chest- his necklace digging into your back, one arm around your chest, hand gripping your jaw so you can look at him and see exactly what he looks like as he’s wrecking you. The other arm is strong against your stomach, his hand making your fingers rubbing vicious tight circles around your clit. “Doing so- fuck- so good for me baby. Are you gonna cum again for me? Just one more?” And you can only nod, it’s not like you have a choice, really. Between the way his fingers and yours are working in tandem to play with your clit and the way his thick cock is spearing into you from behind- you’re lucky that you can breathe at this point.

“No, no-“ he stops his movements now, feeling your whine into his mouth and attempt to push your ass back into his hips. “I wanna hear you say it baby- tell me you wanna cum again.” Fuck, you’re trying to get the friction back- get the delicious drag of his heavy cock back but he’s shoved so deep inside your wet cunt that he’s not moving anywhere. And neither are you from the way he has you pinned to his front. Fuck.

“P-please Michael,” you whimper into his lips, trying to wiggle your hips just a little so that you can feel him rub against that spot inside your- or maybe get his fingertips to brush your clit but he has your hand forced between his and your body, still and twitching for movement but he’s so much stronger than you are. “Fuck- I need to cum. I need to cum again baby. Please. F-fuck please. Please. Please. Please-“ you’re babbling and he groans.

“God- asking so fucking pretty baby. You need it?” He’s going to be an asshole- make you beg for a third orgasm like some fucking greedy bitch and you nod. You nod and whine and because you know he likes to hear you say it now. You’re saying yes. Whining really but it’s all the same to him.

“Yes baby,” nodding like a woman drunk and starved and high all at the same time. “Please I’ll be so fucking good Michael just-” you choke out at the end, he’s easing out then shoving himself back inside you now. Fast. Fast and hard and you can fucking hear colors at this point. You feel him in your veins. You’ve been injected with pleasure and it’s so good. He’s spewing pure fucking filth in your ear now and the wet slapping sound of his hips and fingers against your clit drive the point home. Growling out how good you feel. How fucking wet you are. He’s trying so hard not to cum yet- he needs this to last because he doesn’t know when he’ll get another opportunity to fuck you someone like this again. It shatters through you. Like glass spidering around every weak point of your nerves. That drop. Like the drop of a roller coaster. It’s wet. It makes you soar and float off the planet for a second and you think you can see yourself from above. You cum with a loud scream of his name and he stops fucking your pussy for a moment, stops your rubbing of your clit and moans along with you now- feeling you clench and tighten around him.

“There it is, angel, you sound so pretty for me baby.” He lets you go. Lets you slump forward but he hasn’t pulled out of you yet and you can feel him throbbing inside you still. You’re tired. So fucking tired and he’s still hard. He leans over you now, kissing the back of your neck and when he pulls out- you gasp because he’s been inside you for so long but he’s turning you back over now. Grabbing the back of your knees and slotting himself between your thighs again and you whimper because you’re so sore. But he’s kissing you so softly now, running his hands over your body and whispering praises and- pushing the head of his cock back inside you fuck- fuck- fuck- fuck.

You just- lay there now. Accepting the pleasure of his fucking. Becoming a wave of orgasm and orgasm after fucking brutal, hot, wet orgasm. He’s buried his face into your neck- kissing and biting gently but still slowly keeping a steadfast pace. He adjusts you for himself. Pushing your thighs open or closed to suit his needs. Gripping your leg to place over his shoulders or around his waist to drive deeper into you if he wants. And you just- take it. You moan and sigh his name because that’s all you remember how to do. You’re sure you black out at some point because it’s so overwhelmingly good. He asks if you’re good- if you want him to stop and you beg him- no. No. Don’t fucking stop. Please don’t fucking stop because you’ve absolutely never been fucked like this before and you’re sure it’s some gift from the gods. And how can you deny such a gift? Between his hot tongue in your mouth, beard against your skin, cock inside your pussy- you don’t even remember your name. You just- you’re more him than you at this point.

“Fuck- are you cumming again?” He stills, feeling the familiar tightness of your pussy spasm and flutter around his cock as he nips at your jaw. “Oh- f-fuck yeah you are- you’re cumming again for me baby,” slowly, achingly slow he starts his pace again, angles his hips up and- fuck. Fuck you can’t think anymore. He’s caged you in, completely has you under his control in the best way possible. You can’t even move your hips in tandem with his- you’re stuck in this position and you have to just fucking take it. Your body is being accustomed to the slow debilitating orgasms that are coming, just one after another after another after a-fucking-nother. There’s no point in counting. No point in attempting to keep score because you’re losing. Winning? No- definitely losing because it’s devastating now. You’re accepting your fate. You feel raw. You feel heavy. You feel your mind blank because all you know at this point is pleasure that’s bordering on pain- and his name.

“M-Michael I- fuck I- I can’t-” Your thighs were sore, so fucking sore from being held open by his cock but not wide enough from the way his knees are on either side of your thighs. You were gonna feel him tomorrow. Fuck you were gonna feel him all week. Your legs hadn’t stopped shaking from your first orgasm and that was at least an hour ago.

“Can’t what baby?” God, his voice was so deep, raspy and graveled in your left ear, tugging the lobe between his teeth and groaning so deep you felt it in your gut and swim along your spine. “You can- fuck, you’re doing so good for me sweetheart.” He still doesn’t stop. His cock is inching through your tight walls with no real trajectory other than to wreck you- so fucking tortuously slow. You shake your head and turn- looking at the art he has along his wall, anything to distract you from the pleasure for a moment because your think you’re going to die by orgasm and-

“No, no you stay right here with me angel-“ his calloused hand grabs your jaw and forced you to look back into his eyes. “Look at me baby- I need you to look at me so I can see those pretty eyes while I wreck you okay?” You nod along with him- obediently accepting your directions and fate. The drag- the long and heavy drag of his thick cock through your wet cunt has you spiraling, circling the drain between pleasure and pain. It feels so fucking good- his thick warm thighs bracing your own as he rocks into you devastatingly slow. The way he’s consuming you, all you feel is Michael. He’s the breath in your lungs, the taste in your mouth. It’s the scent of his cologne in your nose, the burn of his beard along your neck and jaw, the feel of his elbows digging into your shoulders with every deep, slow, hard thrust while the chain he had one is no longer cold- it drags, back and forth in the valley of your breasts.

“Just- fuck, just one more for me? Okay baby?” his voice cracks a bit- he’s almost coming to a close. He ducks his head down and swirls his tongue around your nipple then licks a hot stripe up your neck, coming to stop at your jaw and gently nipping at the skin there again while his hand gently brushes some strands of your hair from your face. Fuck- you feel it. You feel another fucking orgasm clawing its way through your body. Fuck. You have hot, frustrated tears running down the side of your face. The pain is so good. And the only thing that stops your from transcending into the fucking astral realm is how he grabs your hand, gently from its position that was locked on his back and no doubt leaving angry red marks along his skin- grabs your hand and threads his fingers between yours and squeezes gently- and kisses your hand once more. Yeah. Yeah you’re fucking cumming again. It’s ripping its way throughout your body now, hot- hot violent waves erupting from within you. Michael moans against you, feeling you clench around him and he’s letting himself go now, content that you’re spent and whimpering bonelessly under him. “That’s it- good fucking girl.”

The tightening and shakes of your orgasm inspire one in him, he’s ready to fuck his cum into you again but he just needs to be a tiny bit deeper. Michael pants, tries to slow down so he can move you how he needs, sitting back slightly and grabs your leg to wrap around his waist and you whimper. Feeling just an inch more of his thick cock inside- you whine. He’s fucking you hard in contrast to the way he’s kissing you- pressing his sweaty forehead softly against yours and “so sweet baby- so fucking good for me angel, I’m gonna cum ok?” Nodding and slamming just a bit too hard- bordering on painful but fuck, it’s perfect. And that fucking headboard again- slamming against his wall in a heavy pace. Hard and rhythmic and starting to pick up speed just from the sheer force of how he was driving into you. The waves of your orgasm are riding out as he’s cumming finally. Hard. Hard- and a deep raspy groan is emitting from him while he continues fucking you through it, shoving the remnants of his resolve deeper with each sloppy broken few pumps of his hips.

You lay there- sated and weak and let him kiss along your face with praises whispered between. He hasn’t pulled out of you yet- he needs a moment to enjoy you like this. To remember what this feels like next time he’s spiraling in his own mind. You have just enough energy to kiss his palm when he cradles your face- swiping at a stray tear and asking if you’re okay. Yes. Yes you’re okay. You’ve been fucked into his mattress, split open and completely sated. You’ve never felt better. You just wanted sex before starting residency because who knows when you’ll have time and- yeah. Michael definitely gave you more than you asked for. More than you ever bargained for.

“Give me a second,” you whine into a kiss, “I don’t remember my name.” He’s chuckling- letting your hands lazily trail over his broad shoulders, card through his beard with a twirl or two of the hair around your finger, and you push his slightly sweaty hair back from where it had stuck against his forehead. He hasn’t stopped smiling. It was so- cute? Grown man with the softest brown eyes you had ever seen, smiling after sex and it made you smile too because yeah- it was fucking good. Finally- he pulls out of you with a bite of his lip and a soft sigh. Trying to commit the feeling to memory because he’s not sure if he’ll get to experience this again. It’s been a while since he’s had sex and he’s sure it’s never been like this. He would’ve remembered vividly it being this good.

“Hey, wake up sweetheart,” you don’t even remember closing your eyes- don’t remember how long he was gone but he helps you sit up and has a glass to your lips and- “here, drink.” It’s cold, icy and immediately soothes your throat. And while you take slow sips he holds a washcloth in front of you and- “can I?” And- you just nod. You’ve never had anyone offer to clean you before. Few have even tossed you a rag but- he’s gentle. He apologizes when you gasp at the contact because you’re sore and overstimulated but the washcloth was fucking warm. He gently cleans you and kisses your temple. Who was this man? You just- you watch in awe as he cleans the mess he made of you and takes the glass from your hand to set on his night stand.

“Um, I- I should go.“ you stutter out. You should- right? You’ve clearly overstayed your welcome from what’s acceptable after mind altering sex. But he just nods.

“You don’t have to.” He doesn’t trust himself to not beg you to stay. He just- he wants more time with you. He just met you hours ago and he’s not ready to give you up yet. “You can stay- if you want. Only if you want. Offer stands.” He smiles, trying to not seem nervous because he genuinely never has done this before. He’s never taken a girl home from the bar. He’s only had sex with women he’s been in relationships with. But you just- he was fucking drawn to you since he landed eyes on you. When you tipped your head back laughing at whatever your roommate had said- he was struck. The way your eyes would dart over to him and then quickly back when he’d make eye contact. It was cute- how you bit your lip and tried to ignore him until you pat your roommate on the back and practically floated over to him. He knew he was a goner then.

“Okay,” you bit your lip and nodded- “yeah- I’ll stay.” You smiled. Leaning in to kiss him and he’s offering you something to sleep in- one of his shirts or some boxers but you shake your head and smile wickedly at him as you slither back up his bed and in between his sheet, grabbing his hand to pull him with you. No. No clothes necessary tonight.

It was his lips you woke up to, dragging along your neck with his beard in tow. You were sore and tired but it was hard to argue with the way your body opened up so easily for him. His hand splayed across your chest, not rough- just warm and resting along your skin while his lips mindlessly kissed your neck and jaw.

“Good morning,” he rasps, feeling you stir against him. He woke up maybe 15 minutes ago, your legs tangled up with his longer ones. He took a moment for himself, a moment to enjoy the feeling of someone in his bed again- no matter how fleeting it would be. You would be gone soon. And he can’t- he can’t delude himself into believing he’s ready for a relationship right now. It been a while since Janey. He’s been focused with work and things have settled down, albeit slightly, pandemic wise. And you were so- young? Clearly a woman and old enough to drink but- you two did get to talking to be fair. He wasn’t drawn to you in a way that felt deeper than physically. And maybe that was his own clouded judgment but he wanted to get to know you. He wanted to see you again. But he wouldn’t say anything- not unless you did. He wasn’t ready to get rejected or shatter a perfectly harmless fantasy. But he couldn’t help tasting your skin one more time- seeing the erupting marks along your chest and smiling to himself a bit.

“Good morning-“ you mumble, sighing into the way his lips felt along your raw skin. How was he so gentle? How could he rearrange your insides last night and place feather like kisses along your jaw now? Turning- you face him, throwing your arms around his neck and tilting yourself up to capture his lips.

“I have to go-” you’re not really trying to leave the comfort of his warm bed- sighing into his mouth as he’s pulling you into his chest. “I’m gonna be late for work- it’s my first day.” mumbling against his lips, moaning at the feeling of his hands dragging down to your ass so he can grind you into him. Fuck. No. You know you’ll never be able to leave if you stay now- feeling his heavy cock start to stir against your thigh.

“Don’t go baby,” He was going to be late too, he had a fresh crop of interns to see to, so he absolutely had to be there today but- “stay here with me.” Fuck- why was it so hard to let you go? It was one night. Stranger at a bar, something he’d never allow himself to do and he was struck. He’s grabbing your ass to grind into him harder- smiling at the way you gasp into his mouth when the tip of him catches your clit. You can hear a phone vibrating on his nightstand- probably yours, most likely Langdon calling you and wondering where the fuck you were. He did call, 3 times and texted. He had your location and you were still alive at least. He was going to have to pick you up and haul ass to the hospital.

[Frankie]: 20 minutes away

[Frankie]: Be ready

[Frankie]: Or I’m leaving your ass.

[Frankie]: Got your stuff tho

You groan, exasperated because you have to untangle yourself from Michael to walk to the living room for your clothes but you feel his strong, heavy arms circling around your waist as he’s coming up behind you to kiss your neck. God why was it hard to leave him? He was so funny, charming and- no. No, you just needed sex to get through your first day- one night stand. Someone you’ll definitely never see again because you’re starting residency and can’t afford to be distracted now. But- he was so fucking handsome.

“I really,” you pause to kiss him, “really,” another kiss, “mm, really need to go.” A moan, kissing his swollen lips again but running a hand through his beard to hold him into the “last” kiss. You make it to the living room and sit on the couch to tug your underwear on, well- trying to, anyway, because he’s grabbing at it and pulling you back into his lips and your back hits the couch. He just- he needs to get it out of his system. One last kiss. Maybe a mark that he nibbles into the top of your breast. That’s it. And as you’re pulling on the rest of your clothes he’s going back to his room to find his boxers and walk you out the door but-

“Just one more kiss-” you whine, pulling him hard and crashing your lips into his. You spend another 15 minutes trying to leave. Every time more clothes come on, one of you pulls the other back for ‘just one more kiss’.

You’re on his couch, pressing him into the arm rest now that your shoes are finally on- locking your lips against his.

He’s pushing you against his kitchen counter now as you’re reaching for your purse, hands coming on either side of you so he can cage you in and claim your lips once more.

You grabbed handfuls of his Steelers shirt at his chest, forcing him against his front door now while you try to savor the possibility of a last kiss.

He would walk you to the car- but he’s so fucking hard again that there would be no hiding it from his neighbors or your roommate in broad daylight. So he claims the official last kiss, cradling your face in his large hands and- this one was gentle. Not hungry. Not desperate. Gentle like- like it would be happening again. But you’re not delusional. It’s won’t happen again. You didn’t get his number, he didn’t ask for yours. You’re definitely never going to that bar again because this was a one time thing you allowed yourself to have. You need to be focused. Focused now because you’re gonna be so fucking late and it’s your first day and you got hardly any sleep and Frank is fucking honking-

“Hurry the fuck up- I have your shoes, clothes, and stethoscope along with a nice cold Red Bull.” Fuck he was the best. Sometimes it’s hard to believe you have a Frank Langdon in your life who can read your mind. “So did the old man lay it down good or?” You take the thought back immediately, jumping in the back seat to change into fresh clothes as you tell him to drive and not break any traffic laws to get to the hospital now. You’re running through the hospital- Langdon a few paces ahead because of his stupidly long legs and you’re chugging the rest of your Red Bull while running the ER nurses station to sign in and let them know you’re both here for your internship.

“Barely made it.” A voice interrupts as you both are shuffling through the doors to who you assume is the Dr. Abbott the nurse mentioned- arms crossed and pointing to the locker room for you both to await further instructions. A few other interns are already inside and what you assume are some residents prepping for their shift.

“ER?” One asks, throwing her hair in a bun while you shove what you can in an empty locker next to the one Frank picked out.

“Yeah,” you nodded- offering your hand to her with your name and introducing your other half to her as well. “You?”

“Surgery, Garcia.” You wanted to ask more but Dr. Abbott is calling everyone outside the locker room for a briefing. God, why were you nervous? You’ve never been nervous- well about work or academics anyway. But your stomach won’t stop fluttering and you’re trying to pay attention to Dr. Abbott but something is gnawing at your gut. Langdon can feel your anxiety, can feel your antsy movements and see the way you’re chewing at your bottom lip And pulling at your fingers so he grabs your hand and gives it a squeeze- making you look at him to see his wink. A silent “it’ll be ok angel.” Like he always says.

“Okay kids, the rest of this little introduction into your internship will be handled by Dr. Robby.” You don’t hear anything more- blood is rushing through your ears, mouth has gone dry, palms fucking sweating. Fuck. No? Fuck. There he was- Michael, in all his fucking 6’2, bearded, sad soft brown eyes, wide linebacker shoulders glory. As if on cue, your pussy clenched involuntarily- thighs started to ache from being held open by him for so long last night, scattered bruises across your chest started to sting. Every kiss and touch he laid on your body flared up like they knew their owner was near- like your body was calling out to his. As if your body picked up on the fact that he was near like some fucking homing signal for orgasms. And Michael, well- Dr. Robby actually, he’s as cool as a cucumber on the outside. Laying down some information and guidelines while trying to not stare at you. He doesn’t remember anyone named Angel on his list of interns. Did you lie? Of course you did- you just wanted sex and to be fair no one really calls him Michael so he can’t blame you.

And next to you? Well Langdon is practically vibrating with excitement. He hasn’t been this happy since his med school acceptance. He’s trying to contain his joy while his eyes bounce back between you and your new boss. You’re speed running through all five stages of grief and he’s never been happier because that is definitely the old man you went home with last night. He’s excited for your debriefing and inevitable crash out session at home later because you have a 12 hour shift ahead of you both and you cannot spiral. Not now. Not yet anyway.

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