Dr. Claire Beauchamp looked up from her operating microscope with a scowl. The patient’s tumor had grown since their last scan, creeping further into the abdominal cavity than she had anticipated. It was going to be a long surgery. She rolled her shoulders and narrowed her eyes at the tumor once again.
“Dr. Beauchamp?” A nurse stuck her head in the operating room just before Claire started the redaction. “Your husband called to let you know he had to leave for London earlier than expected.”
“Okay, thank you.” Claire smiled politely behind her mask, then turned back on her patient. Frank’s upcoming research trip had been no surprise. His work as a history professor at Harvard University in Boston gave him opportunities to travel when he was researching for a new book, and this trip had been in the works for months. He hadn’t asked her if she wanted to tag along, which was just as well. Claire had been on many research trips, wandering around small European villages by herself while Frank worked.
No. She’d much prefer to stay home with her work and her patients. She focused her attention back on the microscope and began the grueling process of removing the tumor from her patient’s liver.
By the time Claire pushed open the front door and dropped her bag on the entryway bench, it was past midnight. She toed off her sneakers and padded in sock feet down the hall into the kitchen. The marble counters shone in the reflection of a moonbeam seeping in from the skylight above.
Claire opened the fridge and scrunched her nose as she considered her options. Frank had convinced her to try going vegan, and her eyes dispassionately examined the almond milk, the old whole wheat pasta salad, nutritional yeast, and assortment of vegetables he had purchased. There was a sticky note on a container of tofu stir fry they had for dinner the night before, with a cheerful “waste not want not!” in Frank’s bold black scrawl.
“If you didn’t want it wasted you should have eaten it yourself.” She grabbed the container and opened it, eyeing the cold food doubtfully. “This wasn’t that great the first time around. I can’t imagine reheating would improve it.” With a twinge of guilt, Claire upended the container into the trash and picked up her phone to order Chinese.
45 minutes later she sat in front of the tv watching old seasons of Grey’s Anatomy and slurped lo mien. She had showered and was cross-legged on the couch in a cotton tank and panties with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.
Setting the takeout container down, she relaxed back into the sofa, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. The characters on screen gave in to the sexual tension and started making love, and Claire could feel her nipples tighten against the soft cotton of her tank top.
It had been, what, months? Frank wasn’t very physically affectionate, so apart from brief chaste kisses goodbye their only intimacies were the rare nights he turned toward her in bed and stroked between her legs until her body was wet enough to accept him inside. He rarely spoke and immediately got up to clean himself afterward. In fact, the last time they had sex he came back in to lay down and fell asleep without speaking a word. Claire remembered laying next to him with cum sliding down her thighs and tears rolling down her cheeks to dampen the mattress below.
Shaking her head to dislodge that unhappy memory, Claire let a hand slide below the blanket to rest on her black cotton panties. She was so busy and kept her thoughts positive as much as possible, so it was normal for her to relieve her own sexual tension without dwelling on the fact that her husband hadn’t ever stopped to consider if his wife had climaxed or not.
Her fingers tapped gently over her clitoris through the soft cotton. She let her eyes caress the actors lost in their passionate embrace and felt her body grow warm and slick.
Pausing the show, Claire moved quickly to the bedroom where she pulled her favorite dildo from the back of her bedside table drawer and opened her phone to the locked folder where she kept a small stash of erotic photos and videos.
She scrolled through until her eyes caught on a gif and she felt an electric jolt through her body. The image was a young man with arms like steel and bright copper curls. His arms were locked around the back and hips of the woman grinding up and down on his thick cock. The gif moved over the same few seconds as his face contracted in pleasure and he came inside the woman. Claire found herself mesmerized by the heavy balls tightening and pulsing as his seed shot inside her body.
She shed her panties quickly and ran the dildo up and down over her labia. The folds were already swollen and slick with arousal, and she was able to push inside with ease. Claire sighed as her body stretched to accept the silicone. She kept her eyes on the gif and pumped it inside of her body in time with the couple on her phone.
Feeling her climax building, Claire focused on the young man’s face as he came. His eyes were closed, but his lips never stopped moving. Almost as if he couldn’t help but speak to his partner, or maybe himself, or God in his moment of release. As the waves of pleasure sent tingles into the edges of her vision, Claire imagined the copper curls under her fingers and the strong arms anchoring her.
“God yes, please don’t stop.” She whispered. Tears crested her eyes and she tipped over the edge into oblivion.
When she became aware of herself again, Claire lazily pumped the dildo into her pussy a few more times, enjoying the aftershocks of electricity in the over-sensitive delicate flesh. She finally pulled it free, laying it on the bed beside her. She glanced at her phone again and studied the man in the gif who had just given her such a beautiful climax.
“Thank you, my lad.” Claire smiled affectionately. “Always grateful for your help.”
She had several images of the same young man, and they were her go-to when she needed to release. Scrolling quickly down, she opened a video where he was wearing a kilt and nothing else, evidenced by the ease with which the woman with him was able to perform oral sex. Claire put the phone down but let the video play, listening to his voice murmur “Right there, lass. That’s it. Mo Dhia, thoir maitheanas dhomh. ”
The Scottish burr sent goosebumps down her flesh and Claire groped blindly for her dildo and slid it home once more. Her knees bent and pulled up to her chest, and she stroked her pebbled nipples as she listened.
“ Dia cuidich mi tha mi a ’dol a thighinn .”
She climaxed again with his choked curse and smiled as she let exhaustion claim her.