Fucking in the Clinic

It happened this past Monday. The sky was heavy with rain clouds, and my cat Luna had been sick all weekend, hacking up hairballs and worse. I threw on a faded hoodie, didn’t bother with my tangled hair, and ignored the exhaustion etched into my face.

I booked a rideshare, grumbling to myself, hoping Luna wouldn’t barf in the carrier on the way.

The vet clinic was pristine – smelled like cedarwood and something crisp, clinical. The doc wasn’t out yet. My neighbor had raved about this place for her dog, so I figured it was worth a shot.

When he appeared, I was done for. Caleb – tall, sleeves rolled up showing strong forearms, dark curls falling just right, gloves snug on his hands. Effortlessly gorgeous. He gave me a warm grin and asked me to set Luna on the exam table. I managed a nod, my eyes glued to him.

He handled Luna with this quiet care that hit me hard. Spoke to her in a low, soothing voice, like she was a scared kid – stroking her fur, dabbing her chin with a soft cloth, murmuring, “You’re alright, little one – we’ll fix this.”

I don’t know what possessed me, but the words tumbled out:
“I’ve never seen a guy be so gentle with a pet.”

He paused, looked up, and stepped closer – close enough I could smell the faint mint on his breath. His fingers grazed my jaw, then traced the curve of my ear, tugging gently at my stud earring. “I’m not always gentle,” he said, voice low, eyes locked on mine.

That was the spark. He pressed me against the wall – door clicked shut with a flick of his wrist – and his lips crashed into mine, urgent, hungry. I matched him, kissing back with a fire I didn’t know I had, my tongue diving deep, tasting him, while his hands roamed, squeezing my hips like he couldn’t get enough.

He pulled my hoodie off in one swift move, letting it hit the floor. My tank top was next, leaving me in just a bra. His fingers hooked into my leggings, yanking them down with my underwear in a single tug. Before I could catch my breath, he slid two fingers inside me – slow at first, then deeper, curling just right. I gasped, back arching against the cool wall, my hands clutching his shoulders as heat surged through me. His thumb brushed circles over my clit, deliberate, teasing, until my thighs trembled and I bit my lip to stifle a moan.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, voice rough, leaning in to kiss my throat, his tongue tracing a slow, wet line up to my earlobe.

I sank to my knees, heart pounding, and fumbled with his belt. His pants hit the floor, and he was already hard – thick, heavy in my hand. I looked up at him, his eyes dark with want, and took him into my mouth, slow at first, savoring the weight of him. My tongue swirled around the tip, then down, while my fingers cupped him, moving in rhythm.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” I said, voice hoarse, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in.

He groaned, fingers tangling in my hair – not pulling, just holding, guiding me as I moved faster. “Just like that – keep going,” he rasped, and I did, losing myself in the sounds he made, the way his breath hitched.

Then he tugged me up, spun me around, my palms flat against the wall. He pressed himself against me, teasing at first, the tip of him brushing me until I was practically begging. Then he thrust in – deep, sudden – and I cried out, the stretch of him filling me completely. He moved with purpose, each thrust harder, faster, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me back to meet him. The room was all heat and rhythm – the slick sound of us, my gasps, his low growls.

“More,” I pleaded, voice shaking. “Don’t stop – please.”

He didn’t. His pace quickened, one hand sliding around to find my clit again, rubbing in tight, relentless circles. My body tightened, every nerve sparking, and I came hard – a rush so intense my knees buckled, my vision blurring as I moaned his name. He held me up, arm around my waist, and kept going, his thrusts turning wild, desperate.

When he came, it was with a low groan, his body pressed tight against mine, warmth spreading over my skin as he spilled onto me. I felt it drip, hot and thick, and the rawness of it made my pulse race again.

We stayed there, panting, my forehead against the wall, his breath warm on my neck. He kissed me softly – my shoulder, my ear, lingering on the stud – with a tenderness that felt like a contrast to everything before.

“You’re something else,” he whispered, a smile in his voice.

I laughed quietly, still catching my breath, my body humming.

He grabbed a cloth, cleaned me up with care, and I pulled my clothes back on. Luna was curled up in her carrier, sleeping like the world hadn’t just shifted.

We exchanged numbers. I reached for my wallet, but he shook his head. “No charge,” he said. “Just want Luna healthy – and you smiling.”

I left, slid into a cab, and stared out the window, replaying it all. There’s nothing like desire that hits out of nowhere – raw, real, consuming. And God, I was already counting the hours until I’d see him again.

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