Intimate Consultation

“Luiza Andrade, please.”

I stood up and walked over to the receptionist’s desk.

“Insurance card and ID,” she said in a monotone voice. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen, and by the way she was chewing gum with an air of boredom, she’d rather be anywhere else than in this crowded waiting room.

She checked my documents with the enthusiasm of a retiree moonlighting at the DMV. “All right. Please wait.”

“Thank you.” I sighed, returning to my seat, my thighs rubbing against each other due to the laughably tight miniskirt I had squeezed into that morning. This was a ridiculous idea. I was going too far.

I felt a wave of heat as I looked around the room and saw several patients waiting. A teenager had his arm covered in a rash. Lord. This was the moment I was sealing my one-way ticket to hell.

While everyone else was there to address a serious health issue, I had scheduled an appointment just to try and seduce Dr. Lucas.

Or at least spend a little more time with him.

In my defense, Dr. Lucas wasn’t a man; he was a god on earth. A walking temptation in a body over six feet tall with perfectly distributed muscles.

Not that I had created a fake Instagram account to find his personal profile, where he liked to post his fitness routine.

And the worst (or best) part was that I had the impression that he wanted me too.

Of course, that could just be a delusion of my disordered mind.

But in the consultations I had had with him, I had often noticed that he would glance at my legs or linger a little longer than a professional doctor should.

And so, even with the treatment finished and the spot gone, I had scheduled another appointment and decided to wear the sluttiest outfit in my closet.

It was all or nothing.

An older woman was looking me up and down with a face that said she was judging me.

I tugged my tiny skirt down, part of me praying that I would be called soon, the other part even more afraid of having to face the doctor.

I jumped in my seat with a start when the office door opened; out came a blonde bimbo strutting through the waiting room with her breasts practically bouncing out of her dress.

Well, it seemed I wasn’t the only one with a crush.

I glared at her with hatred. Who was I kidding? A man like that would never have eyes for me.

I tugged my skirt down again, wondering if this was the moment to feign dementia and run out of that office.

I squeezed my thighs together at the familiar sensation of my lower belly pulsing and my thong getting wet.

Holy shit.

“Luiza Andrade, please come in.” The annoying voice of the receptionist pulled me out of my daydreams. I rubbed my hands together and swallowed hard, feeling the stares of the other patients as I tried to walk in a straight line in my soaked underwear.