written by dirtyyarn

Harry rolled over in his sleep. He kicked free of the sheets that had tangled around his legs, the tentacles of exhaustion holding similarly to his consciousness. With a groaning stretch, he reached out to pull the woman infiltrating his mind closer.

She was warm and soft, but her gown was acting as an obstruction to the feel of her flesh. It was thin, worn from repeated laundering, and why the fuck did it have ties in the back? Releasing the ribbons behind her, he slid the fabric slowly away, to reveal the pulse in her neck, down her shoulders and off her arms so that it lay bunched beneath the rise of her breasts. Taking first one and then the other into the cup of his hand, he felt his groin swell in appreciation at the way her flesh filled his grasp.

His fingers were kneading over her breast in an ever-shrinking circular motion, zeroing in on her nipple. Harry lowered his mouth to her throat, kissing up her neck and over her jaw. She inhaled deeply, desire evident as she pressed her chest against his hand. When their lips met, he used the tip of his tongue, wet with anticipation, to nudge her mouth open. He heard the tiniest whimper as she welcomed his intrusion.

"Doctor," she breathed.

"Call me that again, it's so hot when you say it."

"Hmm... Doctor."

"How is this happening? Touch me, baby; I want your hands on me."

He could feel the slightest tremor in her hands as she feathered them over his abdomen, his muscles constricting. Her movements became more certain as she slid her hands into the waistband of his boxer briefs, slipping them over his hips and the rise of his ass.

She teased the backs of her fingers lightly down his hardening shaft to grip his sack and gently roll his balls in her palm.

"Mmm, that's good. More." His voice was thick and low, rumbling in his throat.

Tightening her grasp, she pulled, then smoothed over the puckering skin below his erection. The halo of her blonde hair tumbled in waves around her shoulders and her breasts bounced slightly as she shimmied over him, so that she was sat on her knees between his legs.

Harry sensed her observing his body and his reactions to her as her hands fluttered over his thighs. He thrust his hips up when her thumbs dug into the flesh where his thighs met his torso. Dragging them further along through his V lines, she caused his cock to jump.

"Baby," he drew out the word, "please, no more playing around. Touch me."

She drew the back of her index finger from the base of his shaft to his rosy tip. Collecting the moisture leaking from the head, she pulled the pad of her fingertip back down his length.

"Ohh, Doctor..."

Her small hands scooped him up and she wrapped her fingers, as best she could, around his hot flesh. Her grip tightened as she began to pump. Stroking her thumb across his slit, she gathered all that dripped, and smeared it under the sensitive glans of his cock.

"Not gonna last, go harder, baby, faster." His breathing was rapid, an oddly medicinal smell tainting the air, filling his lungs.

"Are you there? Doctor, are you coming?"

"Uhn, yes. So close!"

Her bottom hand twisting, she ran the other up over his head as he felt his climax approach.

"Doctor? Are you alright in there? Do you need assistance? The door is locked."

"What? What's..."

Opening his eyes, Harry tried to focus. Where was he? Work. He was in the call lounge at the campus clinic. With his hands shoved down his pants. Tugging at a massive, nearly exploding hard-on. He shot upright, nearly busting his head on the bunk above the one he was lying on.

"Doctor Styles!" The female voice called out as the doorknob shook. "Can you hear me? I heard groaning. Are you sick?"

Oh, holy fucking hell!

Harry painfully shoved his still-erect dick back into his pants, zipping his jeans so quickly it was a wonder he didn't snag something important.

"Um, yeah. Yep, I'm a-okay. Just uh, dozed off. No worries," he shouted at the closed door, a bit of a shake in his voice.

"Well, the lunch hour has ended and your next patient is in exam room two. I'll have the chart at the nurses station."

"Thanks, thank you, that's fine then. I'll be there in a moment."

Jumping to his feet, Harry tried to get his bearings. The campus clinic didn't operate 24/7 like a hospital, but since medical residents were always burning the candle at both ends, a place to rest and catch a meal was provided. This wasn't the first time he had crashed in the call lounge.

Harry rubbed his hands over his face and through his unruly curls. He shifted his deflating cock one last time, wishing his dream had been a reality, or at least that he had the time to rub one out. Throwing his lab coat on, he pushed his feet into his leather boots and clacked his way to the door. Entering the corridor, he resigned himself to the fact that he would spend the remainder of the day with a raging set of blue balls.

What had just transpired made him feel a little icky. Yes, icky. He had been having a sexual fantasy about a patient. A very pretty, very specific patient. Harry had done a psych rotation. He knew perfectly well that the brain was a puzzle; it was completely natural for his mind to have wandered off into a lustful haze, over which he had no control. Still, it made him feel inappropriate. It was a good thing he would not be on duty when she came in the following day for her test results and to complete her exam. The last thing he should be doing was a breast exam on Riley Sanders.

The head nurse eyeballed him suspiciously as he approached her station. She had dealt with these young doctors for three decades. She knew when something was up, as surely as she could decipher the chicken scratch in their medical notes.

"What's wrong with you, Dr. Styles? Are you ill? I have enough sick students to deal with. I don't have time for this nonsense coming from you residents."

Harry pulled his stethoscope out of his white coat pocket and dropped it round his neck, keeping his eyes averted as he spoke.

"I promise, I'm fine, Nurse Vincent. I was up half of last night putting in hours at the free clinic. Plus, I think my new kitten, Labi... uhh is nocturnal because she was pouncing about the flat last night. Dr. Tomlinson threw a right snit after she got into his room and attacked him in his sleep. He was slamming doors every which way, and now I'm just worn."

"What did you name that cat?" She questioned him with raised brows, wondering if she had heard him correctly. "You know what? Never mind. I don't want to know," she shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Harry twisted his lips to the side and began looking for his patient's chart. Locating what he needed, he flipped the folder open to familiarize himself with what lie ahead. The chart was quickly snatched from his grasp.

"That's not your patient. That one cancelled and we had another girl on the waitlist for an earlier appointment. She's ready for you. It's a follow-up, so it should be quick. Just go say hello and I'll pull the right chart; have it in there in a sec." Nurse Vincent made a shooing motion with her hands.

He was still forcing himself to take deep breaths before seeing each patient, but this week was exponentially easier than the last. Sure, he continued to bumble a few minor things. That's to be expected though, right? He hadn't messed up on anything big. He was just a tad awkward and sometimes he forgot things, like organizing gloves and swabs and patient names. Except that first one. He remembered her name.

He wondered how she was faring. After that rocky start, the exam had gone well enough. He had patted himself on the back for thinking of the lollies. It was a stroke of genius in his opinion. He had offered her a second candy before leaving her, as she had weathered a tough situation like a champ. Again, she chose his favorite, strawberry. It had made her lips especially red.

He gave himself a mental head slap and a shake to rid his mind of the memory. 'Not the right line of thinking, Styles.'

One last calming breath and he was turning the knob to the door of exam room number two, entering with his head down.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Styles. And your name is Ms..."

Extending his hand and raising his head, he made contact with blue eyes that he had seen just one day shy of a week ago.

"Riley Sanders," he choked.

There she was, sitting on his exam table. He teetered on knocking knees for a split second as it all washed over him. The blonde hair, the swell of her breasts under the faded blue gown with the ties in the back, the slightly medicinal smell of the clinic, the ridiculous tightness of his skinny jeans.

"Doctor."

Retracting his outstretched hand he raked his fingers through his hair. Harry's eyes darted about wildly and it occurred to him that he should have been praying regularly to St. Luke, the patron saint of doctors. Or maybe the Virgin Mary, although he didn't have a lot of experience with virgins, personally or professionally. At any rate, he was flying solo now.

"Um, hi. Yes. Hello. Okay... could you just stay right here, please?" He was holding both hands out like a traffic cop attempting to stop an oncoming bus.

The paper under her bottom crinkled as Riley shifted her weight.

"Is something wrong?"

She was nervous. The last six days had been a special kind of torture. When the clinic called to say that all of her lab tests were completed and she could get her results and finish the exam a day early, she had leapt at the opportunity. Dr. Styles, Harry, had been sweet to her. He was way too hot for his own damn good, but she was willing to set that aside. It was the suckers. The 'lollies' he called them, in his British drawl. He had won her over and finished the worst of the business that her last appointment required with little drama. He said all she had to do was come back for the lab results and a breast exam. So here she was. And now he was freaking out again. Just her fucking luck.

"Everything is tip top! Except I don't have your chart. Hold please."

Harry lunged for the door, nearly colliding with Nurse Vincent as he slammed it behind him.

"That's my chart?" He grabbed it before she had a chance to answer and was dashing post haste toward the Medical Director's office.

Pounding on the door he shouted, "Code blue, Louis! Open the damn door, this is an emergency!"

Flinging the door wide, Louis answered the emergency call immediately, prepared for action.

"Hot damn!" Louis rubbed his hands together. "We don't get much excitement around here. Where's the patient?"

Harry was shoving his shorter friend back into the room. "I need to talk to you!"

Quickly, Harry explained that the code blue was in his pants and the cause of said code blue was waiting for him to do a breast exam and provide her with a clean bill of health.

In a moment of true solidarity, Louis, Dr. Tomlinson, agreed to bail his friend and subordinate out and chaperone the exam. Thank fuck.

"Riley, thank you for waiting," Harry began as he re-entered the exam room. "This is Dr. Tomlinson, my supervisor, he'll be accompanying me today." He was fidgeting with his rings.

"Why?"

"Well, because you have the right to have another person present during your exam, and he's another person."

"You can call me Louis." Louis tucked himself as unobtrusively as possible into a corner of the room.

"Yeah, no." This was not happening. Riley was not going to share her disaster of a sex life or the diseased ashes of its fallout with another human being. "I don't want him here. Sorry," she said to Louis.

"But, it's your right!" Harry was feeling the heat of panic creep up his neck. And Louis was no help, smirking in the corner.

"No. I only want you, Doctor."

"Well, that's settled then." Louis clapped his hands together, "Good luck, Dr. Styles. Nice to meet you, Riley." He exited before the young gynecologist could protest further.

"Is there something wrong with me?" Riley's voice was a tad squeaky. "Is that why you wanted him here? Did my asshole ex give me something horrible?" Now she was actually scared. And angry. "He did, didn't he? I should have known, that cheating SOB."

Yoga breathing, calm your mind, Harry thought. She's more afraid that you are.

"No, Riley." He opened her chart to show her the lab results. "See? Everything was negative. You're completely clean."

Relief washed over her and he couldn't help but grin as she executed a small fist pump.

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome."

And now, he faced the final hurdle.

"Since we only did the necessary tests and a pap last time, we do need to finish your breast exam."

Harry came to the foot of the exam table and pulled out an extension, guiding her legs onto it.

"That's good, I'll just untie this gown and have you lie back, please." As she settled, he quickly washed his hands in the small room sink.

Hello again, little kittens, she thought to herself as she looked up to the ceiling. We've hung in this far, just one last little annoyance. Then we can get out of here and move the hell on. Of course she wouldn't be seeing Harry, er, Dr. Styles again. Honestly, he was the only thing that didn't suck about this whole experience.

Simultaneously, they both drew a deep breath, smiling at one another.

"Okay then, this won't hurt at all." Harry pulled the faded out fabric down to expose her breasts. "Arms above your head, please." He was going to touch her.

Be professional.
Be professional.
You're her doctor for God's sake.
Be professional.

With as much detachment as possible, he visually examined her before proceeding to the main event. Her breasts were excellent... from a purely scientific position.

For the second time that afternoon, he felt the sensation of her firm flesh give beneath the pressure of his fingers. Well, okay, the first time didn't count because it wasn't real. And this was real, but it didn't count either because he was the doctor and she was the patient and this was not a kinky role play. Would she be into that, he wondered. What? No! Bad thoughts!

He proceeded to knead her breast tissue with the flat of his fingers in a concentric pattern, moving ever nearer to the darker skin that surrounded her very pink nipple.

Riley's brain had begun to mis-fire. His hands were nice. They were warm and gentle and now they were skimming her areola and it puckered and her nipple stood up as if she were turned on. But she couldn't be, because that would be wrong and he was her doctor and she was his patient, and shit, that could be hot. But definitely not now, because that would be wrong, right?

Their eyes met.

And they hastily glanced away.

That was a normal response, Harry told himself. Nipples constricted under examination all the time. No reason to get your knickers in a twist. Take a breath Harold. Remain calm.

By some miracle, he was able to conclude her exam without catastrophe or upset. He didn't pop a boner and give himself away, nothing crashed to the floor, no one cried.

"Excellent! Well, that's done then. And everything is top shelf. I mean, it all looks great. Um, that is to say, there are no abnormalities. Yeah." Harry swiped his palms over the bottom of his lab coat.

She sat up, asking, "I'm all done then? Healthy?" Riley felt the iron fist of worry release her stomach and a bit of light enter her previously scorched heart.

"Very healthy. I just have a couple things to go over with you, but first I'll step out so you can dress."

After he left the room, she hopped off the table and tossed on her clothes. Riley was sorry to see the last of Harry, but thrilled beyond words that she and her clean vagina could close the door on this mess. No more ex and no more newbie doctor. Bittersweet.

She wasn't interested in shuffling her ass back onto the crunchy table paper, so she leaned against the counter to wait.

"Knock, knock. It's just me." Harry shuffled his boots back into the room. "So there's just this last bit..."

He reached behind her, into the cupboard that had held his stash of lollies. "This is for you to take home." Setting a small brown paper bag on the counter, he continued, "It's got some condoms and a few pamphlets about safer sex. I can write you a script to refill your pills, but oral contraceptives won't help you keep those test results negative."

"You sound like a public service announcement," she laughed at him. "Thanks though, I appreciate it. I'd like the prescription, but honestly, this has been a shitty experience. I've probably made some lousy choices and, you know, it's kind of embarrassing." Riley stared at the floor, arms crossed protectively.

"You know, Riley, it sounds as if your ex-boyfriend was the one making poor choices, not you. Being sexually active isn't a bad thing. It can be an amazing part of our lives. We just need to protect ourselves." He tapped the paper sack, then pulled out his prescription pad and wrote out a script to continue her birth control pills. He set the slip of paper on the counter. Lastly, and for good measure, he grabbed a strawberry lolly and dropped it into the bag.

"Thanks, Dr. Sty... Harry. I appreciate you helping me out. I don't ever want to have to come here again, but maybe I'll see you around campus, or at Franco's."

"Franco's? Isn't that a bar?"

"Yeah, have you never been? Everyone hangs out there, and I serve drinks on nights when they have live music. The extra cash helps ease the starving student syndrome. You should come down some night, there's a dance floor too."

"I can't dance. But I really like live music." He seemed enthusiastic, until his smile faltered.

Riley grabbed her fancy brown sack of prophylactics and her prescription before stepping to the door.

"Sure, well, maybe we'll see you." She thought for half a second that he might actually want to run into her again, but dismissed it out of hand. Who was she kidding. He was the doctor that knew exactly how indiscriminate she'd been. He wouldn't be interested in someone like her.

"Bye, Doctor."

The sun was shining when she stepped out of the clinic. In the distance, the marching band could be heard as they rehearsed on the football field. The air smelled clean and she had a new lease on life. She pulled her bike away from the rack and knocked back the kickstand.

"Riley?"

She turned to see Harry flying awkwardly down the clinic steps.

"Yeah?"

"Do you? Know how to dance, that is?"

"I do, yeah." She was laughing at him. Just a little.

"Maybe you could show me?" This was probably a dick move, he thought, but he liked her and he wanted to see her away from work.

"Is that like, okay? It's allowed?" She didn't know what the rules were, since he had seen her, well, everything.

"I couldn't be your doctor. If we socialized, you couldn't be my patient. Would that be alright?" Please, be alright. Please, be alright. His brain was shouting a new mantra.

Again relief, and a spike of excitement flooded through Riley's system. He did like her. She wasn't imagining it.

"Yes, that would be alright."

The grin on his face was like Christmas in July.

"So, would you be willing to give me your number?"

"Considering we just got to second base up there... and actually third- but I'm not gonna think about that... I think I can give you my number. You could have swiped it off my chart, you know."

"I do know. But that wouldn't be right, and if it's okay with you, I'd like to do this right."

Thanks for reading and following the @PussyJockeys
You can find each of us and our individual books on Wattpad and Twitter: @dirtyyarn @styles_orama and @alessandra / @bookstylist
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