Unlocking My Private Locker: The Doctor’s Forbidden Touch
Deep in my private locker, I unlock this vaulted memory. The one that still makes my pulse race. Sitting in the doctor’s waiting room, I eyed the sleazy salesman across from me. BMW keys on the table, staring at my legs in that short gray skirt. My work lingerie gig demanded sexy chic—bronzed thighs crossed, teasing him. I uncrossed slow. Swapped magazines. Let him peek my 95C cleavage. Then the flash: my white lace thong. His jaw dropped. Jaw clenched in his pants. I smirked, sadistic thrill buzzing.
Two patients left. Nurse called my name. Not the usual doc—a stunning blonde, blue eyes, bob cut, maybe 30. Blouse hid her curves. Shook her hand. Sports cert for a 10K. She checked my file. ‘Undress, keep underwear.’ I stripped fast. Same sexy white bra and thong. Her gaze lingered on my curves. Cheeks pinked. Pro exam, no spark. Disappointed, I dressed slow. She smiled: ‘Good race!’ Sun blinded outside.
The Opening
Race day. 55 minutes under sun. Proud finish. Short black tights hugged my ass, blue tank my tits. Friends cheered. Tap on shoulder: ‘Great time!’ Her—Delphine—in running gear. Legs toned, slim waist, perky small tits. Chatted. Friends vanished. Exchanged numbers. ‘Sandra.’ ‘I remembered.’ Watched her ass sway away.
Text Friday: Run tomorrow? 10am lake. Did. Bise like old friends. Easy pace, laughs, glances. Stretches lingered. ‘Lunch?’ ‘My place.’ ‘Bring you.’ Heart flipped. Showered, checked smooth wax. Wore same lingerie set. Flowers at her door. Terrace lunch, sun-kissed talks. Similar lives: single, sporty. Coffee done. ‘Sore muscles?’ ‘Massage?’
She led inside. Oil ready. Couch, legs folded. Started calves. Muscles rolled under oily fingers. Skirt hiked—white lace thong. Toes next. She moaned soft, feet pushing into my grip. ‘Could cum like this.’ Pulled back teasing. ‘Not yet.’ Kiss crashed. Tongues danced. Coffee taste. Bodies pressed—her slim to my fuller curves.
The Intimacy
In her bed. She confessed: one quick college fling, disappointing. ‘Don’t want to disappoint.’ ‘No contest.’ Kisses deepened. Thighs tangled. Peeled her top—small firm tits, nipples hard. Mine freed—heavy, spilling. She cupped gentle, eyes hungry. Tits mashed. Bites edged pain-pleasure. Hand to her thong—wet heat. She slid it off. Blonde bush, neat. Pink lips begged.
Tongue trailed: neck, tits, navel. Frilled her clit. She bucked, hand in hair. Dove tongue-deep, walls clenched. Ass up—rimmed her tight rosebud. She loved it. Sixty-nine: her mouth on my smooth slit, clit sucked. Groans synced. Broke for tribbing. Cunts ground, eyes locked. Wet slaps built. She came first, scream ripping, gaze piercing mine. I shattered after.
Sweat-slick, fingers laced. Bliss sealed it. Locker snaps shut. Light, free. Secret shared—yours now.
