TW: Cheating, taboo, age gap, smut, car sex, reverse cowgirl, crying, slow-ish sex, begging(?), mutual cumming.
A/N: New character unlocked.?!
This is so wrong. You know that. Frank is married with kids. Well, he’s in the process of getting a divorce. You still shouldn’t even be thinking of him this way, you tell yourself. He’s your boss—technically, he’s your attending. Same thing, though.
It started with his hand guiding yours on the scalpel, showing you the right amount of pressure for surgery. Then came the little comments from him. Ever since, heat has been building in your lower stomach all day. Yeah, there’s some chemistry between you two. There always has been. So by the time your shift ends, you impatiently finish the last bits of paperwork before shoving them into your bag and moving through the ER to find Frank.
“I, uh… hey, Mister Langdon?” you start to say, only to curse at how awkward that sounds.
“Just call me Frank or Langdon. And it’s Doctor, not Mister,” he interrupts with a raised eyebrow, though his hand gestures for you to continue.
You fidget with your bag for a moment, your eyes catching on the silver band around his finger. Of course he’s still wearing it, even while going through a divorce. Heat continues to spread through your stomach. “My car broke down… I was hoping you could possibly give me a lift. I mean, I am on your way anyway,” you finally blurt out the lie. It burns on your tongue at how unconvincing it sounds.
Frank doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he considers it, rubbing his chin. “I can give you gas money, too!” you suddenly add, interrupting his thoughts. You curse yourself again for how eager you sound.
“I don’t need your money, kid,” he says quietly as he moves to stand. “Come on.” He guides you to his side. It’s an automatic response, probably from years of ushering his kids around, and you can’t begin to process what’s happening as the two of you start walking toward the parking lot.
Light rain drifts down from the dark sky, dotting the cars, but you can’t pay attention — not with Frank’s arm around your shoulder, your hips bumping together with each step.
“In, in,” he says, holding the door open before his hands briefly rest on your hips to help you inside. Then he quickly rounds the car to get in himself. Once the engine starts, warmth begins to spread through the enclosed space.
Something just twists in you.
And within seconds, you’re halfway across the console and halfway in his lap with your lips on his. Much to your surprise, he responds rather positively. In fact, his lips seem even hungrier than yours. “What’s this.?” He whispers once the kiss ends. An amused expression on his face.
“I uh… I don’t know.” You stumble out like the idiot you are. You didn’t plan this. Typically you would be more coordinated. More confident.
“You do realize we are still in the parking lot, correct?” He says but his actions betray his word, he’s already dragging you into his lap. The steering wheel digs into your back but you ignore it with wide eyes, watching Frank. You can’t even react as his lips interrupt your thoughts. Finding the weak spot on your neck on the first try.
A small moan escapes your lips. An angelic sound that makes Frank even pause. “Fuck. Make that sound again, love.” And you do while his lips suck harder at the sweet spot.
The windows are already fogging and the rain has grown to pour more forcefully but you don’t care. Not when you can feel something hardening between your thighs. You gasp audibly and begin instinctively trying to wiggle away from the foreign object. “You started this. Finish it.” He grumbles as if he’s unhappy with how you made his body react towards you. His hands leave your hips to tug at your pants before guiding the tip against your entrance.
You whine. An actual whine at the new sensation. Your hands fist in the fabric of Frank’s shirt when you finally sink down onto him with a pained cry at the feeling of being full and stretched. “I-I don’t know if I can take it. Fuck, take it out—” you begin blabbing.
“It’s okay. You got it, kiddo.” He coos almost mockingly, his thumbs already brushing away the glass dripping from your eyes. “A a lot bigger than you expected, huh?” He taunts before slowly rolling his hips up. Slow, hesitant.
“Frank—” you cry out, your head falls to his chest as he continues to torture you. Slowly the pain fades and you begin to move. Tiny little bounces.
Sticky, messy noises fill the room. His groans, your moans and lingering crying. His hands move off of your hips and dig into the meat of your ass.
Not guiding. Grounding himself to the moment. He tries not to blow his load like a virgin teenage boy. He really does. But he can’t stop himself. On a particular rough snap of your thighs hitting against each other, a new feeling fills you. Causing your hips to stutter. One hand clenches against the fogged window, leaving behind a handprint. You squeeze against him, tightly and let go yourself.
“Look at that…” He mumbles as he watches his cum slowly leak out of your cunt and onto the base of his cock. His finger begins to scoop some up and brings it to your lips. “Suck.” And you instantly do as told. Your lips part and begin sucking the cum off. You feel dirty with this action. Exposed almost. But in the best way possible.
