Isabella’s POV
"Just a moment!" he called out. His voice sounded smooth and polite, perfectly projecting his flawless professional persona.
His hand stayed put. His fingers pressed against the soaked edge of my panties, inches from pushing under and claiming what he wanted.
My heart hammered in my throat.
I stayed frozen on the table. My thighs trembled. My dripping pussy clenched around nothing as I prayed the player would listen.
The guy outside grumbled about a pulled groin and post-practice pain, but he stopped twisting the knob.
Thank fuck. Dr. Henry moved fast.
He gave my thigh a firm squeeze. His dark eyes promised filthy things before he stepped away like nothing happened. He yanked the privacy curtain with a quick snap, hiding me behind the thick fabric.
“Stay put and keep quiet,” he whispered. His hot breath fanned my ear. “I’ll handle him.”
I pressed my back against the wall. My chest heaved. My hard nipples ached against my tight top. My ankle throbbed, but the pain was nothing compared to the wet need between my legs.
Dr. Henry moved around, his voice calm and professional. He guided the player into the next cubicle, separated only by a thin divider and my curtain.
The guy mumbled something.
“Pulled groin, huh? Let’s get you on the TENS machine. Thirty minutes should kill the spasm. Stay still.”
I peeked through a tiny gap. Dr. Henry attached electrodes to the guy’s inner thigh and lower abs. The machine hummed, sending electrical pulses that kept the player distracted.
The player let out a relieved groan.
I stayed hidden, breathing shallow. My drenched panties stuck to my swollen lips. My mind raced.
This is insane. He just jerked off moaning my name, and now I’m trapped here while he treats a player. If we get caught… But my body didn’t care.
My clit throbbed so hard I squeezed my thighs together. The slight pressure made me bite my lip to kill a whimper.
Dr. Henry set the timer and slipped behind the curtain like a predator cornering his prey. The towel barely hung on his hips. His thick cock was already hardening, the heavy outline tenting the terrycloth.
He stepped close, towering over me. One huge hand slid up my thigh while the other clamped firmly over my mouth.
“Keep quiet for me, Isabella,” he breathed against my ear, his voice rough. His fingers traced higher, brushing my soaked lace. “That’s it… good girl.”
On the other side, the player started chatting.“Hey Doc, how’s that cheerleader doing? Isabella, right? I saw her take a tumble near the sidelines earlier.”
Dr. Henry’s fingers twitched against my skin. “She’s fine,” he answered smoothly. “Just a sprain.”
“Good,” the guy chuckled. His tone shifted into easy locker-room banter. “Would be a shame to bench her. Did you see her routine before she fell? That girl is fire. Those thick thighs in that skirt? Damn. I’d kill to get between them. I mean, we're both guys here, right? You won't judge me for saying it.”
What the fuck? I didn't even know the guy's name.
Dr. Henry’s eyes flashed with dark possession. He hooked his thick fingers under my panties and yanked them aside.
“Ah!” I gasped against his palm as cool air hit my dripping cunt.
Instead of ignoring the guy, Dr. Henry raised his voice. He sounded like a stern mentor, perfectly masking his actions. “Let’s keep it professional,” he called out smoothly. He pushed one finger inside me, stretching my tight walls. “The cheerleaders are strictly off-limits to the team. If she needs hands-on attention...” he added another finger, scissoring deep. The wet squelch was loud, but masked by the machine's steady hum, “...that is my territory.”
Then he dropped his mouth to my ear. “Because this tight cunt is mine,” he whispered hotly against my neck. “Mine to stretch and ruin.”
I whimpered behind his hand, my hips bucking against his fingers on their own. My slick juice coated his hand, dripping down to my ass. It felt fucking incredible. His thick digits curled inside me, hitting that sweet spot.
“I know the rules, Doc,” the player sighed, his voice going breathy from the treatment. “Between matches and practice, I'm too busy anyway. But a guy can fantasize while he's recovering on the bench, right?"
The player kept talking, completely oblivious. “And her tits, man. Those heavy tits bouncing during the routine? I bet they’re soft. I’d suck them for hours.”
Dr. Henry growled. He used his free hand to shove my top up, exposing my breasts. My nipples were hard, begging.
He leaned down, sucking one into his hot mouth. His teeth grazed the bud while his fingers ruthlessly fucked my pussy.
“These belong to me,” he murmured around my nipple, sucking harder. “Mine to suck, bite, and bruise.”
I arched my back, shoving more of my tit into his mouth. The wet slurping mixed with the machine's steady hum.
My mind spun. Oh god, it was so wrong, but I was so wet. I would lose my mind if he stopped—or if he didn't fuck me harder.
"Especially about that ass. When she does those jumps? Damn, I want to grab it and spread her open.”
Dr. Henry pulled his fingers out with a loud pop. He spun me around, bending me over the table so my ass stuck up. He yanked my skirt high and spread my bare cheeks.
The player kept talking, listing off my legs, my neck, my tight body for his imaginary scenario. Every time he named a part, Dr. Henry claimed it with his rough hands and filthy whispers. He sucked purple hickeys onto my neck. He squeezed my ass hard enough to leave handprints.
I was so horny I practically begged him to whip out his massive cock and slam it into me.
The machine's timer beeped softly, but Dr. Henry didn't stop. He suddenly jammed a third finger inside me.
“Ahh—!!” I screamed before I could swallow the sound.
“What was that, Doc? What're you doing back there?”