Page 8 of Doctor Hardy and the Hysteria Machine (The Doctor’s Pleasure #1)

Chapter Seven

A ccompanied by an occasional cry of feminine pleasure from the examination room next door, Agnes read her novel. She had plucked it from the doctor's private library and made herself a steaming cup of tea.

The clinic’s very first patient was overjoyed at the doctor's treatment, if the crescendo of moans was any indication. Agnes smiled to herself.

Despite her steadfast support and constant reassurances, Richard had nursed an unfounded anxiety over how his new practice would be received. Unbeknownst him, before fate had put her in his path, Agnes was herself a refined lady who walked amongst circles not dissimilar to those of Lady Beatrice.

She took another sip of her tea and turned the page. Perhaps now he would believe her.

Without warning or a knock, Richard flung open the door and stormed into the private office.

“Richard,” Agnes greeted as the somewhat disheveled doctor raked back his black hair with a hand. “How was Lady Beatrice’s first treatment?”

“It went…” The commonplace question caught him off guard. Doctor Hardy looked distracted, as if he’d forgotten from whence he came seconds ago. “Exceedingly well,” he concluded with a dismissive wave of his hand. “She will return in a week.”

Agnes recognized the tension in the powerful man before her. By the tell-tale bulge in his trousers, she knew precisely the source of his frustration and its cure.

“Well done, Richard.” She said, setting down her book and beckoning him to approach. “I told you it would be a great success.”

“It was only an internal examination. As you suggested, I saved the machine for her second session.”

“Very wise,” said Agnes. She smiled at the vivid memories of testing Richard’s invention in his apartment. “You mustn’t scare away the maidens.”

“ You were a maiden when you first entered my laboratory,” Doctor Hardy towered over Agnes, his hands bracing the leather chair’s arms. He had caged her in with his impressive body. “And you took it all in stride.”

“I do vaguely recall leaving that night without my virtue,” Agnes teased, craning her head to look at him.

“I did not— could not bring myself to… Even though she was beyond eager.” He admitted, his head hung in resignation, “And my resolution is weak.”

“It’s not a weakness to respond as any man would have,” she reassured him, cupping his face. “Even you, my dear Doctor Hardy, are only human.”

At this, he finally cracked a small, appreciative smile. “Where would I be without you, Agnes?”

In response, she pulled him down and planted a kiss on his flushed cheek.

“I know just what you need, Richard,” she whispered in his ear, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Your cock enter the office before you could.” And his lips parted in a moan.

“Vixen,” he breathed, as she stroked his throbbing length through his trousers. He was so aroused that a small wet spot had appeared through the fabric.

“It looks like my job is already half done,” she said, gently pushing him off and turned around. Then, the doctor watched as his assistant climbed into the soft leather chair and knelt, raising her perky rump up in the air.

Agnes felt his large hand palm her buttock through her blue skirt, and waited, her heart in her throat. He squeezed one perfect globe, then the other.

“Gorgeous, Agnes.” His breath was coming out in pants.

She said nothing and waited. Finally, he lifted the layers of her skirt, followed by what felt like an ocean of cotton petticoats. Then she heard his sharp intake of breath.

“Agnes!” The doctor exclaimed at the sight of her womanhood, soaked, needy, and completely uncovered by underthings.

“I knew just what you needed,” she said simply, pushing back her puffy nether lips towards him in invitation.

He could control himself no longer. With a curse, he spat into his palm and tore open his trousers. Without pausing to undress further, he grabbed his weeping cock, pumped it once, and plunged home into Agnes’s perfect cunny.

Oh, but she was so wet . With one deep thrust, he impaled her like a hot knife through butter, his cock head hitting her womb.

“Go on, Richard. Take what you need,” Agnes urged, bearing back against him and rotating her hips around his unbelievable hardness.

“Christ!” he groaned, and put a stop to her movements. He held the soft skin of her buttocks hard, fingers digging into the tender flesh. “You’re going to make me spend.”

Agnes only laughed and clenched her inner muscles around him, earning another curse from the doctor. With one hand, she reached for the swollen pearl at her apex and rubbed herself with vigor.

“You did so well, Richard,” she said through rising moans, feeling her own peak almost upon her. “Now spend inside me—you’ve earned it.”

Doctor Hardy’s fingers on her behind turned into claws, and he began thrusting into her with wild abandon, broken moans and growls tearing their way up his throat.

“Oh—Agnes, yes… Yes, you little seductress—” A slew of blasphemes and praises fell from his lips as he fucked her. “Fuck! Your little cunny was wet and ready for me, wasn’t it? Waiting for me to fill you—”

The doctor’s assistant met him thrust for thrust, arching her back as she chased her peak. “Fuck me, Richard. Use my body as you see fit.”

Finally, the euphoria building inside Agnes broke. Pulse after pulse, her insides shook and clenched hard around her doctor’s thick cock, milking him.

With one, two, three hard thrusts, Doctor Hardy let out a triumphant howl as he found his pleasure inside his willing assistant. Agnes rejoiced as thick spurts of hot seed flooded out of his pulsating manhood and coated her trembling womb.

“Yes, Richard. Fill me up to the brim,” she coaxed, her walls squeezing around him as he cried out his pleasure.

With a great exhale, Doctor Hardy fell forward and wrapped her in his arms. Panting, his lips found her earlobe. He planted a string of open-mouthed kisses there, then along the wisps of soft blond curls along her hairline.

Agnes raised a hand to her hair. Her starched white bonnet still sat firmly in place. She felt a trickle of his spend running down her leg. Reaching back, she caressed his head.

“Thank you, Agnes,” he murmured into her ear, sounding sated and awestruck. “Although no praise shall ever do you justice.”

Feeling weightless and boneless, she scratched her nails soothingly on his scalp, earning from him a gratified grunt.

“Anything for you, Richard. Anything.”