Lanie's Lessons (22 page)

“I’m sorry I had to do that, baby, but at least we’re all done. Let’s get you back to bed.”

He laid her back on the pillows, pulled up the covers, and went to wash his hands. By the time he came back, she was feeling guilty. Regret over what she’d said stung her eyes. “I’m sorry for being such a brat, honey. I just feel like crap.” Her apology ended with a sniffle as he bundled her close.

“I know you didn’t mean it.”

Her eyes flew open. “Oh my God! I said I hated you. Ethan! I didn’t mean it.” A tear slipped down her cheek, followed by another, and another. “I love you, honey. I can’t believe I said those hateful words.”

“Shh, baby, don’t cry.” He pulled her into his chest and with his arms wrapped tightly around her, rocked her back and forth. “You’re sick and don’t feel good. I didn’t take it to heart.”

“Forgive me?”

“Always.”

“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

“Of course. I’ll be right here until you’re better, Lanie.”

“You’re good at this, Ethan,” her yawn making her words almost indistinguishable. “You’re gonna make a great daddy.”

Chapter Sixteen

Ethan made her stay in bed until her fever was gone and tacked on an additional twenty-four hours—to avoid a setback, he said—which ended up being five full days of bed rest. He stayed home from work to take care of her, bathing and dressing her, seeing that she took her medicine, including the medicine Dr. Foster prescribed when he made his house call the next day. He also cooked, cleaned and caught up on the laundry. From her vantage point in bed, she watched him fold and put away a basket full of her underthings and found it incredibly sexy.

It was day five of her sick room incarceration and she was going stir crazy. When he walked in the room with an armful of clean towels, she pounced on him, begging for an early parole. “Please, Ethan, I feel fine. I’ll sit on the couch and rest, I swear, but I need to get out of this room.”

Standing at the foot of the bed with his hands on his hips, he studied her closely. She knew she looked better having taken a shower, fixed her hair, and for the first time in days applied makeup. She’d also slipped on one of his favorite nightgowns, a damask rose sheath of satin and lace, which molded to her curves. The daring neckline and thin spaghetti straps exposed a lot of creamy skin. She used this to her advantage as she leaned forward expectantly, gazing up with wide, innocent eyes and a generous amount of cleavage. As if she’d planned it, one of the straps slipped off her shoulder. She had to hide a grin when she saw his eyes follow.

“You do look much better. As beautiful as ever, in fact.” As his eyes swept over her, his lips curved up slowly and his dimple appeared. She saw a spark of sexual interest she hadn’t seen while he’d been playing doctor these past few days. “Okay, you’re released from sickbay, but I want to check your temperature one more time to be safe.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, in a moment, he reappeared in the process of shaking down the old school glass thermometer. Lanie promptly opened her mouth and lifted her tongue, eager to do whatever he wanted in order to get a taste of freedom.

“Dr. Foster told me the best temperature is a core reading and he gave me a special thermometer. This will determine absolutely if you’re ready to get up.”

She blinked up at him, her eyes shifting to his hands and the red tipped thermometer. She hadn’t noticed the tube of jelly until now. She shook her head adamantly. “I don’t think so.” So much for doing whatever he wanted.

“Really? Okay, stay in bed, but I’ll need a reading before you’re released. Now or later is up to you.”

“Ethan!”

“Lanie.”

She glared at him, then asked for clarification, “Are we playing?”

“Yes, little girl, but only if your temperature is still down. I’m very serious about that, so you have to do one to get the other.”

Frowning up at him, she saw the familiar gleam in his eye. He’d called her little girl; she should have never said the word daddy the other day—it obviously gave him ideas. She stuck out her bottom lip and in a childish whiny voice said, “Okay, but afterward I want ice cream.”

He grinned at her and took a seat, patting his lap to show her where he wanted her. As she moved into position, he touched the fabric of her gown smoothing it over her ass. “I love this color on you.” His fingers teased along the lace hem that, in this position, had risen to the uppermost slope of her thigh. It tickled and she squirmed. Abruptly, her gown was whisked over her head, the satin slithering to the floor at his feet leaving her bare.

“I don’t want the lube to stain it.”

His hand swept over her back in long strokes, his movements slow and deliberate. She could feel him pressing hard against her belly and knew positively he was in a mood to play. Five days was a long drought for them. She wondered how hungry he was; would it make for a quick tease or a long drawn out torture. Either way, she definitely wouldn’t be bored anymore. Despite the upcoming anal probe, she felt her pussy dampen with arousal.

A rude squirting noise broke the quiet of the room, like when someone tries to get the last drop of ketchup out of the bottle. Startling and unexpected, it made her jump.

“Relax, baby.”

As his hand returned, stroking her bottom this time, she tried to. She almost succeeded. His gentle touch felt so good that she allowed her muscles to ease. Another minute she would be boneless and limp, putty in his hands. Then she heard, “Afterward, if your temp is normal, we’ll have a little exam.”

She went from slack and serene, to tense and disturbed in two seconds. “What kind of exam?”

“A simple medical check-up to make sure everything is okay after your illness. Did I ever tell you I started out pre-med?”

She shook her head, not processing much after the word “exam.” His fingers gently touched her bottom and she flinched, hard, almost falling off his lap.

“Easy,” he murmured as he spread her cheeks and pressed a slick finger into her tight hole. As his broad finger penetrated, she let out a small squeak, more from distress at the awkward situation than any real discomfort.

“Relax, Lanie, and breathe. It’s only my finger; you’ve had it here before. I want to get you all slick so the glass won’t drag on your skin when I take your temperature. This thermometer is a little wider and it has to go in far enough to get an accurate reading.”

While he pushed in farther, he angled and rotated his finger every which way, spreading the lubricant all around. He kept at it until Lanie relaxed again. Then she felt it, the beginnings of a prickling sensation in her bottom. She squirmed on his lap, trying to ease it some, but it didn’t abate.

“Be still, Lanie.”

“I can’t. Something feels weird, Ethan. Kind of tingly and itchy in my bottom.”

“Does it?” He paused and she felt him move behind her. He placed a tube labeled pleasure cream on the nightstand. “I might have picked up the tingling gel by mistake.”

She snorted her skepticism a scathing retort on the tip of her tongue. ‘Mistake my burning ass’ was what she wanted to say, but prudence won out considering the proximity of his hands to her very available bare behind and she toned it down a bit.

“If you’ll excuse my saying so, sir, that is a load of bull. You don’t make mistakes like that.”

“No matter, it does the job just fine. You’re nice and slick.”

He pressed his finger deeper working his finger well beyond what was required for a simple temperature reading.

“As I started to say earlier, while in pre-med, I took anatomy, a basic physical assessment class, as well as some of the other pre-requisites. They were interesting and I learned a lot—or at least enough to be dangerous.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

He chuckled softly, but didn’t respond, carrying on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I found I disliked microbiology, chemistry and the endless terminology. So I switched to criminology, which is a complete U-turn, but I was an impulsive twenty-year old. I also had a hard on for Susan Dey from L.A. Law, which may have played a hand in it.”

“You changed major’s because of a TV show?” Her voice cut off abruptly as he slipped in a second finger, twisting and stretching her more, preparing her thoroughly, which at this point was overkill. She didn’t complain, however, since the stimulation helped to offset the tingling and burning from the gel.

“Not a show, a character. I guess I had a thing for sexy blonde attorneys even back then. It seems to have worked out well for me.” As he played, a tingling began between her thighs, moisture gathering with each stroke and twist of his fingers. Soon the burning ache in her pussy eclipsed the one his fingers and the pleasure gel had ignited in ass. She was hard pressed to contain a groan, biting her lip to help stifle it.

“My semesters in pre-med didn’t all go to waste. I picked up a few skills that come in handy when taking care of a sick girl, don’t you think?”

He spread his fingers, stretching her wide until a moan slipped out, unintended. It felt that good. He abruptly pulled out and replaced his fingers with the thermometer, the narrow glass barely perceptible after his broad fingers. When it was in far enough for his satisfaction, he anchored it securely between two fingers. The warmth of his hand as it spread across her bottom felt nice and his other hand began to stroke up and down her back again in long slow glides.

“Three minutes.”

Lying over him, being cared for and comforted, Lanie saw the appeal of age play. Beth and Steven seemed to enjoy it. She imagined she could get into some of it, like the dressing up and the closeness Beth spoke about, but she still had reservations about some of the things she’d read about—pacifiers and bottles, cribs and high chairs, diapers and enemas—the last two were so not her thing. The spankings, however, that was definitely more her style. She could play a teenage brat that’s for sure, she’d played that role to perfection without even trying while she was sick, after all.

Movement of the glass wand had her tensing up again. “Time’s up.” After Ethan withdrew it, she waited expectantly for the reading. “Ninety-nine degrees.”

“Crap! Does that mean I can’t get up?”

A gentle hand patted her bottom. “No, sweetheart. A rectal temp is a degree higher, so you’re good to go—after your exam.”

Chapter Seventeen

Ethan helped her stand and led her over to the sitting area in the corner. With a love seat, a big comfy chair-and-a-half that was big enough to fit them both snugly, and several reading lamps, she and Ethan loved to spend quiet time in their reading nook. Now it seemed it would double as Dr. Fischer’s clinic. He guided her to the end of the rectangular coffee table and had her wait while he spread a thick cushy towel over the sturdy walnut piece, placing a small pillow at the far end for her head.

“Get comfortable on your back, knees bent, heels against your ass.” He gave her bottom another gentle pat before he moved away. “Be right back.”

She settled awkwardly on the tabletop, propped on her elbows, feet against her butt and knees pressed tightly together. When he came back with a black doctor’s bag, her heart lurched in her chest. “What’s in there?”

“The tools I need for your exam.”

She eyed the traditional black leather bag with its short handle and brass latch. As she considered what tools her diabolical doctor could have in that bag, an uneasy feeling crept into her belly. If he was as smart a man as she thought, he had included a crow bar, better yet the Jaws of Life, because if he pulled out anything she’d find at her gynecologist’s office, he’d need it to pry her legs apart. She bit her tongue before that comment slipped out, reminding herself that this was Ethan—she trusted him—and she’d never had a complaint about playtime before.

He set the bag down on the floor with a clink. She flinched, unable to help it, as her imagination ran wild. Ethan knelt on the floor beside her. He leaned over her, his loving eyes gazing down into hers. His hand came up, and with a gentle touch, he cupped her face as his lips met hers, brushing over them softly. “Trust me, baby. I promise, this will be fun.”

She trusted him, truly, but the anxiety, the unknown, and most of all the lack of control was her nemesis. Searching his handsome face, she noticed the little creases between his brows as a slight frown formed. He read her so easily and undoubtedly saw the internal war she waged.

“Didn’t you ever play doctor as a kid?”

“Yes, honey. But my kit had plastic Band-Aids and a toy stethoscope. And it didn’t rattle and clink like my daddy’s tool box when I set it down.” Her little quip erased his frown lines and released a chuckle, which made her smile.

“I meant the exploring and curiosity of it all.

“No, I was five and mostly gave pretend shots and took pretend blood pressures.”

He grinned. “I guess I was older in my game. The object of this very adult game is to put yourself into your doctor’s hands—that would be me.”

She laughed. “I kind of expected that.”

“Hush, naughty patient. The doctor is speaking. Where was I?” He frowned, scowling at her in mock anger for distracting him. “Oh, yes. Part of the fun will be anticipating all the intimate things that will be done to you while you are under the control of someone else who holds all the power. Sound fun?”

“Um… fun might not be the word I would use. I’ll have to reserve judgment on that one. But I am interested in putting myself in your hands, Dr. Fischer.”

“Fair enough. Let me teach you the grown up version of playing doctor.” His confident fingers skimmed over her skin, across her cheek and along her jaw until he captured her chin. “Open.”

When he gave orders in that husky voice, so low and compelling, she obeyed, unquestioningly. His thumb glossed over her lower lip. “Say ah.”

Thinking she would feel silly, she was surprised that she didn’t and opened, her eyes glued to his face. His thumb slipped into her mouth, and automatically, her lips closed around him and she began sucking. Excitement poured through her as she waited for another command.