The Clinic

Strangers sit in the sterile waiting room. She pretends to read some gossip rag, idly flipping pages. He pretends to clean his fingernails, scraping at his hands. They each find the other attractive but are too buried in shame and fear to savor the brief shared glances.

For two weeks they have been waiting. Consumed by the terror of what the answer might be. Her nervousness is cloaked in betrayal. His nervousness is shadowed in minor pride. Both are overwhelmed by so much anxiety, that they can think of little else.

Their names are called almost simultaneously. He is taken to Room B, her Room D. "Negative, 100% negative. You are clear of all sexually transmitted diseases." The result is the same for both of them. It feels as if their lungs are just taking their first breaths.

Walking out of the office, he notices her step is much lighter. "Good news I presume?"

A bashful, "Yes," she replies.

"Me too. Such a relief."

"Yeah, I know. I don't think I've slept more than two hours since they tested me. You would think these days they could give you results immediately. They do it on TV all the time."

"I know, right? It's as if they want our sins to weigh on us while we wait, so that we are more careful next time."

"Uh... yeah," she mutters with sadness.

"At least it's over. I feel like I should be celebrating."

"It does sort of feel like I've just won something."

"I think I need a drink. First round on me. You in? There's a cheap bar two blocks down."

Her mind immediately begins working on the list of excuses usually prepared for this kind of situation, but she can't think of any of them. She does want a drink. She wants two drinks. Right now. "Fuck it, let's go."

She is surprised by her own language, and even more surprised she is accepting a drink offer from a complete stranger. It shakes up dormant energy she hasn't felt in months. It's just a drink, anyway. Innocent. She speeds up their walk to the bar.

By the third or fourth drink, all the tension of the day has been put to bed. "So, so...I gotta ask you. Why were you getting tested? You seem like a fit, healthy young man," she asks as she eyes his strong arms and powerful chest.

"Crazy couple of weeks abroad. Kind of lost myself for a bit there. What about you? You don't seem like the type who would be careless."

"I'm not careless. In fact, I've never even had sex without a condom," prissying up her posture as she protests. "My fucking boyfriend. EX-boyfriend." Again, she is stunned by her own use of profanity. "We always used condoms AND birth control, but I found out he had been cheating on me. And since I sucked his tiny little dick, I figured I should get checked."

She never talks like this. Not even with close friends, not even when she is much drunker. Right now, she just doesn't care about censoring anything. She wants the raw emotion out, unconfined.

"Well, here's to being free of that asshole. AND to being free of all known sexually transmitted diseases," as they take down another shot. He is starting to feel the level of drunkenness that usually results in him hitting on a vulnerable girl, but thinking about doing that to her makes him feel guilty. He decides he should leave.

"Hey, I'm gonna head out. I'm pretty drunk and I should probably get home."

"Oh. Uh... You sure? Maybe just another drink?"

"Yeah, no. I don't think that's a good idea. There's a lot of cops around here and I really shouldn't be driving."

"Well my house is just around the corner." It is out of her mouth before she even realizes it. First drinks with a stranger, then an invitation into her home?

"I...OK, why not?" He still feels like he was taking advantage of the situation, but he doesn't want to reject her. Or at least this is how he justifies going for just one drink. He is only a man after all. Who is he to deny her hospitality?

Handing him a drink on the couch, "Here's to us. To both being completely clean."

With a chuckle, "Yeah, we could fuck like rabbits, without any health consequences. You did say you were on the pill, right?" He says this jokingly, but as soon as they both hear it out loud, the truth of the statement can not be ignored.

"Yeah, we could, I mean, I could come over and suck your dick right now, and wouldn't have to worry about anything in the entire world." Who was saying these words? She would never had said anything like this. Not even to her boyfriend- EX-boyfriend.

He stares at her, "Yeah, we can do anything right now," and with a fuck-it mentality, he begins to unbuckle his belt. He isn't fast enough though. She needs it right away. For the fist time, she feels free, reckless. She is no longer trapped in some bubble of insecurity disguised as safety. Anything is possible. She dives between his legs, unbuttons his jeans, and fiercely unzips his fly.

She wraps her mouth around the head of his cock without delay and she begins slobbering and sucking in a frenzy. She takes him into her throat deeper than she has ever taken a man, swallowing his whole member with abandon. He grows more excited and she tastes the sweetness of his precum drizzle from him and grabs his shaft. She squeezes it tight and strokes, milking it for every drop, letting the stranger's juices drip into her belly.

"I need you to fuck me, fuck my cunt, fuck it raw!" She has never even used what she calls 'the c-word' before, but is now screaming it at a stranger. She can do whatever she wants. She doesn't need to be safe with her body, or with her words.

"Take your shirt and jeans off for me and I will." She does as told. She rips at her sweater, losing a button as she tears at it. She slides her pants down, pausing when her hand reaches her crotch. She gives herself a firm rub as she pushes the jeans off. But as she reaches around to remove her bra, he stops her.

He places his hand at the base of her spine. His hand is large enough that it covers the entire width of her lower back. He pulls her in and kisses her deeply, mangled tongues of a car wreck, driving too fast and too recklessly. His hand then slides up the groove of her back, and with a simple flick, unhinges her bra, dropping it to the floor.

He brakes the kiss, and begins letting his tongue crawl its way down the front of her body. Stopping to suckle on her breasts, stopping for butterfly kisses on her stomach. His mouth is then at the top of her panties. He takes the waistband of them in his teeth and presses his chin into her mound.

He rubs his chin against her till he feels her wetness coming though the flower-covered, cotton briefs. Clenching in his teeth, he pulls them down. He slows for a moment to inhale her scent as his face crosses her pussy, but spends little time bringing the panties past her legs.

He pushes her down on to the couch, looks in her eyes and enters. This is the first time she has ever taken a condomless cock. This is the first time she has ever felt skin that soft inside her. It is an iron rod clad in velvet between her legs. Her juices slide freely over him, his dick races, streamlined, unencumbered, in and out of her.

She takes a deep breath and feels the oxygen go through her, in from her mouth, down her throat, deep within her lungs and carried out by blood to every corner of her body. His heat radiates inside her. She can sense his every vein, his every pore. His energy is connected to hers, his electrons are close enough to orbit between and around hers. They are cosmically close, melded. Where one person stops and the other starts is obliterated. She feels not just a dick in her. She feels

his

dick in her. She feels him, his being, in her.

She comes, shivering through him, sending her pleasure all around him, blanketing him in her orgasm. It renews his vigor and he begins fucking her deeper and more forcefully. She writhes beneath him, sweat covering them both in a full lather. He pounds, the head of his cock reaching the depths of her. He spins her around on top of him. She straddles and takes him in even deeper. She has never felt so filled before.

They are free to do whatever they want. A safe haven, like a lucid dream, where anything is available. Suddenly, she remembers everything is safe. She bends her head down and bites his shoulder. She digs her teeth deep into the ridge of muscle just below his neck, and his body erupts in protest, but she holds tight, her teeth piercing the skin. He slams his hips upward into her pelvis as she gnaws at him. The pleasure and the pain blur into one overwhelming sensation.

"Harder, bite harder," he mumbles, almost delirious with pleasure.

"I want to taste your blood." She knows he doesn't have any diseases to worry about, so why the fuck not?

She bites deeper and tastes his skin get saltier. She begins sucking at him, like some whorish vampire in a novel from her teen years. The blood is messy, hot, wet, sticky. It makes her pussy messier, hotter, wetter, stickier. She gyrates faster and faster over her stranger.

"Cum inside me. Fill me with your messy, hot, wet, sticky cum."

Hearing her say the words, he can't stop, even if he wanted to. With her teeth clenched onto him, her tongue dancing over his wound, he comes. Like a geyser, he explodes inside her. She feels spurt after spurt, rush into her. His dick fills her, and now any crevice the cock couldn't reach is caulked with his cum. All the hollowness she ever felt, is plugged up, every hole, whole.

She collapses onto him, feeling the most physical closeness she has experienced in her entire life. "I'm sorry, what did you say your name was again?" she asks.