Our Little Secret Ch. 01

Her face collapsed with sudden realization, and then her cheeks flushed red with untold embarrassment. She couldn't look at him anymore. "I ... ah ..." she faltered. "Of course I knew it was a saying," she proclaimed unconvincingly. "I was just ... you know ... joking around."

"Do you know where I'm staying?" Joel asked, changing subjects.

"They booked the Airport Marriott," the doctor said. "I'm pretty sure you'll be staying there."

She continued the interview, but she was badly distracted by her deep embarrassment. Joel sensed she cut the examination short. As she wrapped it up, Joel asked "what's you cell number?" Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? To his amazement, she gave it to him. He pulled out his personal cell, and called her. When he heard her phone ring, he hung up. "Now you have my number," he announced. "When you're finished here, come to the Marriott, give me a call, and then we can continue our talk about funny expressions."

She just looked at him without speaking. Well, so much for that.

Dr. Brighton was right. The airline had rented a hotel room at the Marriott for Joel. Even though it was mid-morning, he was bagged -- he badly needed sleep. A private shuttle service the airline hired exclusively for the passengers of his flight took him to his hotel. Security guards were at the hotel to prevent the press and keeners from pestering the weary passengers and crew. The press had got wind of a mid-air collision -- probably by monitoring the air traffic control radio, and then to add intrigue to the story, the plane was held in isolation for twelve hours. Hordes of reporters were sniffing around for a story, which the various government agencies were keen to prevent until they could present a reasonable explanation what happened. It was leaking out anyway. Passengers called their relatives, who spoke to reporters. The headlines were already heralding a plane load of women who were sedated against their will, which was accurate, but easily taken out of context.

Joel was told he would have interviews with the NTSB, the FBI, the CDC, and maybe others. But all that could wait. Now he needed sleep. He was given a room key, and was escorted to his hotel room on the seventh floor, which had more guards on it. Inside the room, Joel stripped down to his underwear and undershirt, crawled under the blankets, and closed his eyes.

His personal cell phone rang. He looked at the incoming call. It was Valerie. "Hey," he allowed.

"Tell me you were not on that sex offender plane!" she demanded right away.

"Yup," he sighed, closing his eyes with his head back on the pillow. "That was me."

"How do you get yourself caught up in these things?" she challenged, like it was his fault. 'What things?' he would ask if he weren't so tired.

"Listen," he said instead, "I haven't slept for thirty hours. I'm just going to bed now. I'll call you later."

"You can't go to sleep, it's eleven in the morning!" she argued.

"Val, goodbye," he announced, and cut off the call.

He had just put down the phone when it rang again. "For fuck's sake," he yelled, picking up the phone, but when he looked at the incoming call, it wasn't her. "Hello?" he answered.

"Hi," a familiar voice announced. "You wanted to talk to me about funny expressions."

"Are you for real?" he asked with mixed emotions. He started worrying she was some psycho doctor that stalked her patients.

"Well," Dr. Brighton protested, "I thought I would come here and talk to you about it."

"You're in the hotel?" Joel asked.

"In the Airport Marriott," she confirmed. "I'm in the lobby."

"I'm in room 723," Joel explained, "but you can't get in -- there's too much security. I'll come down for you."

"Okay," she said and disconnected.

Now he was wide awake. He put his clothing back on, which was everything he owned. His suitcase and personal effects were being processed by some lab. Joel took the elevator downstairs, and there she was. She was wearing the same black slacks with a dark blue T shirt, but a black leather jacket had replaced her doctor's coat.

Joel brought her up to his room. She was challenged by security when they stepped of the elevator together on the seventh floor. She flashed her airline credentials and her MD badge, but the security guard, who looked a significantly more diligent than the average rent-a-cop, said she was not on the list of allowed guests, and he would have to check. He was reaching for his radio when Joel said "Look, this is Doctor Brighton. I am in her care. She examined me after the flight. I am having some medical issues, and she is checking out some new concerns. So let her pass, please." The security guard weighed the debate in his head, and decided to let the good doctor accompany him. Joel thanked the guard. They walked to room 723. Joel unlocked the door, and ushered her inside, and he closed the door behind them. She stood awkwardly, wondering what to do next.

"Come sit down," he sat on the edge of the bed, and patted the mattress beside him. She walked over and sat beside him.

"So," he tried breaking the ice, "you wanted to talk about funny expressions."

"Well, no," she corrected. "You did. Remember?"

"So I did," he replayed their earlier conversation in his mind. "So tell me, do you always follow up a patient examination in a hotel room."

"Never before," she shook her head.

"So what do you want to talk about, then?" he asked.

"I don't know. What funny expressions do you know?"

This was getting weird. He couldn't tell if he was about to score or get stabbed to death. Sticking with what works, he asked "You never heard the expression about a hot shower and a quick fuck?"

"No," she shook her head.

"I think it's British," he said. He waited a long time. Now or never. "So do you want to see if it works?"

"If what works?"

"If having a hot shower and a quick fuck makes you feel better."

"Are you asking me to have a hot shower and a quick fuck?" she asked casually, as if they were discussing which movie to go see, "and see if that makes me feel better?"

"Sure," he nodded, feeling his breathing quicken, "let's do that."

"Okay," she stood up, and pulled her jacket off her shoulders, and laid it out carefully on the bed. Then the cute young doctor hoisted her blue T shirt over her head, revealing a delicate pink bra with roses embossed in the fabric. She neatly folded her shirt on the bed beside her jacket. She reached behind her back, mechanically, not sexy at all, and unsnapped her bra, and folded it on her T shirt. Her firm, C cupped breasts had almost no areola -- just brown nipples centered in her white fleshed love melons.

The rejuvenated Joel watched the topless doctor push her toe to heel to push off one shoe, and then the other, and she set the shoes carefully on the floor. With no sense of romance or titillation, Dr. Brighton unfastened and unzipped her pants, and pushed them down her thighs, wiggling her hips as she did, and then stepped out of them, and neatly folded them on the bed. Finally, she pressed her underpants down her legs, revealing a neatly trimmed bush. She picked up her underwear, and folded it on top of her pants.

Without saying a word, Dr. Brighton walked naked to the bathroom while Joel sprang to a raging hard-on. He heard her start the shower. She had no sense of urgency, intimacy, or passion. There was no connection with him at all. It was as if she didn't sense him in the room, and she decided to take her routine morning shower.

Joel walked into the bathroom fully clothed, and the naked doctor was stepping into the stream of water, having adjusted the temperature to her liking. If she sensed his presence, she didn't show it. She turned her back to the warm water, and grabbed a bottle of hotel shampoo, and started lathering her hair. Her tits jiggled as she massaged her scalp, prompting Joel's manhood to ache a little more. He wondered if she was some human automaton -- a sexy body with no soul, no passion, no feeling.

She rinsed the suds out of her hair, slowly twirled in the shower stream to wash the lather off her body, and then she stepped out of the shower, and grabbed a fresh towel. "Let me do that," Joel offered, and he took the towel away from her. She obliged, and Joel stood behind her, and wrapped the towel around her shoulders. He dried her back first, then her shoulders, and then he wrapped his hands around to her front, and started massage drying her tits through the towel, and felt just how firm they were. He pulled the towel open, and cupped her breasts directly in his hands, and began gently squeezing, while she remained perfectly still. He ran his fingertips over her nipples, back and forth, and they firmed into hard buds.

He took the towel off her shoulder, and moved to her front, facing her. He toweled her tummy, and then let his hand slip down, down, down over the towel, until he landed on her crotch, and massaged the towel inward. She remained motionless. Joel squatted down, and toweled her legs, and as he did, he brought his lips to her twat, and started kissing her sweet pussy lips. She made no sound or motion.

"Well," he said as he stood up, "I guess the shower part is done."

She looked at him with no expression. "Time to fuck," she said with vacant eyes.

He led her to the bedroom, and told her to lie on her back, which she did. He undressed in front of her, and she neither watched nor seemed to care.

Joel mounted the bed on top of the waiting doctor. She didn't resist when he spread her legs apart. While Joel was never a ladies man, he had enough plumbing for the job. He lowered his eight incher between her legs, and touched the tip of his hardened cock to her waiting pussy. She looked unblinking at the ceiling as he penetrated her love tunnel. This must be what necrophilia is like. He started driving his hips, pumping his piston in and out of her fuck hole.

Joel reached down with one hand and started playing with her white tits while she silently lay motionless on the bed. He closed his eyes, and thought of Jenny from HR, and that helped. It wasn't the lifeless doctor he was fucking anymore. With his eyes closed Joel was fucking Jenny's delicious pussy and watching her spectacular tits. He kept his eyes closed, and Joel found his pressure building, and he started slamming harder into the mute doctor's pelvis. He kept his eyes closed and saw Jenny lovingly smile up at him from her blessed missionary position, and his balls started to seriously churn.

He felt his release growing closer, and Joel burst into a savage sprint, fucking the good doctor with all his strength. "Oh fuck, yes Jenny," he whispered as he felt his balls pass the point of no return, and then he growled hard as he unloaded a stream of hot cum deep into Jenny's cunt. He opened his eyes wide, and there was the unresponsive doctor still staring up blankly without making a noise. Joel's second orgasmic wave burst forth and spilled into the back of the catatonic doctor's pussy. He fucked her brutally, compensating for her lack of affect, slamming his hips as hard as he could against her pelvis. Her tits bobbled in rhythm to his thrusts, as he felt the next contraction squeeze out another burst of liquid love deep into her hole.

At last his orgasmic contractions faded, Joel pulled out, leaving the doctor motionless with her legs still apart. "All done?" she asked neutrally, as if checking if he had finished eating his spinach. She sat upright, swung her feet over the edge of the bed, and stood up. She started dressing in silence.

"Doc," Joel announced, sitting naked on the bed, "I just gotta tell you that was the weirdest sex I ever had."

"Me too," she nodded. She finished dressing, pulled her coat on, and without another word, or even so much as a glance back to Joel, she walked to the hotel room door, pulled it open, and left.

"Holy fuck," Joel grumbled to himself after she left. "Not one person would believe the day I had." He mentally listed his experiences over this trip. He was nearly kicked off a plane because an unwitting stowaway took the last seat. He made a customer happy, and for that he was fired. He was on a plane that was struck by -- by what? -- A UFO? Every woman and girl on the plane passed out for about twelve hours. He was deputized as commander of the cabin. He performed the Heimlich maneuver and saved a crew member from certain death. His wife, who hates him, blames him for all the women that fell unconscious. And he had weirdly ungratifying sex with the undead Doctor Brighton.

But as the saying goes, even bad sex is better than no sex at all. Joel smiled. He turned both of his cell phones off, and put them beside the clock on his bedside table, and noticed it was noon. He pulled on his underpants and undershirt, and slipped under the bed covers. In less than one minute, Joel was snoring heartily.

- - - End of Chapter 1 - - -