Infatuation

It was that time again. Time for his insulin shot and his dose of Dr Sara Tancredi. His heart jumped a little at the thought as it always had done of late when he thought about the doctor.

He was not stupid enough to lie to himself. He knew that he was, for better or worse, infatuated with the doctor. Not exactly a smart move, he knew. Considering his plan, his infatuation was a potential for disaster.

Or it could just be his hormones reacting to the presence of a female. After all, he had not had any sexual contact with the opposite sex for what seemed like months now. And Dr Sara Tancredi had more than her fair share of attractiveness.

The CO led him along the strangely silent and deserted corridor until they reached the room to the doctor’s examination room. Michael frowned. Where was everyone?

When he stepped into the infirmary, Sara looked up and followed him as he made his way to the chair. Then her eyes shifted to the CO. “That’s it. You can go now,” she said, pulling the privacy screen towards the door.

The CO looked reluctant to leave him behind, but he finally shrugged and left, closing the door behind him with a loud click.

Without looking at him, Sara went to the shelves and retrieved several items.

Michael looked up at when she approached, holding a pair of gloves in one hand and a syringe in the other. She was wearing a loose, wide-necked white blouse with a grey skirt under her white overcoat today, exposing her lovely legs. He quickly looked away before other thoughts could enter his mind.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “What’s going on out there?”

“What?” she queried, looking puzzled.

He nodded at the door. “No one’s around.”

Sara went to open the door and then peeked out. When she drew her head back in, she shook her head slowly, a slight frown marring her brow. “Strange. Maybe they all went out for lunch for something.”

She placed the gloves and the syringe down on the trolley beside them. Moving the stethoscope from her neck, she placed the earpieces to her ears and then slipped the chestpiece up his shirt.

He sucked in a sharp breath when the cold metal touched his skin. As she moved the chestpiece around, her fingers accidentally brushed his nipple. Goosebumps exploded over his skin as the flat nub tightened.

She was bent down close to him. His eye went to the top of her head, and then a little lower. He could see the top of her breasts through the gaping front of her blouse. The white lace bra cupping the round globes prevented him from seeing more, but it was enough to send his blood rushing down to where he did not want it to go.

He snapped his eyes up and fixed his gaze to an indeterminate spot in the distance, trying not to think about what he had just seen. It would be embarrassing if his body reacted to the image.

Just as he thought that he had managed to banish his wayward thoughts, her fingers brushed his nipples again. His breath caught in his throat.

“Breath in,” she instructed softly, a soft frown marring her brows.

“Hmm,” he mumbled. It was easy for her to say. She was not the one sitting in a chair at the mercy of a female doctor and some raging, uncontrollable hormones.

Breath in, breath out, he told himself.  It’s easy, Mike. You can do it, he told himself.

He shifted a little in the chair and accidentally bumped into Sara.

With a gasp, she pitched forward. Automatically, his arms snapped out to grab her around her waist.

Her right hand, which was still under his shirt, slid around him while the other hand landed on his lap. The fall had brought her even closer to him, so close that his lips were touching the soft, exposed skin of her neck. A groan slipped past Michael’s lips at the contact. The warm scent from her skin invaded him, making him lightheaded.

To his surprise, she did not move away from their compromising position.

Michael stilled.

She was not moving away, he repeated in his head. He could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest, bringing the top of her breast closer to him each time she inhaled.

What did it mean?

Did she want this?

Hesitantly, he moved his hands further up, pulling her closer.

She inhaled sharply, but still did not move away.

Then he looked up to find her staring at him, her eyes luminous in her face. The gaze she directed at him was needy, full of want.

And also full of trepidation.

He pulled her head down.

With a moan, their lips met hungrily.

His tongue slipped past her lips to entangle with hers. Her flavor exploded in his mouth and he groaned. Her response was to suck on his tongue softly.

His hands swept down to cup her rounded bottom, pulling her tight against him.

“Michael,” she whispered breathlessly against his lips as her hands clenched and unclenched around his shoulders.

He nipped at her lips one last time before he nibbled his way down to the top of her breasts. As he licked the soft skin over her bra, her hands came up to his shaved head, holding him closer to her, pressing him to her like she could not get enough of him.

A surge of desire course through him at her actions. It could be taken as encouragement, but he needed to be sure. He looked up at her, his eyes full of unspoken question. Would she allow him to go further?

For a moment, they just stared at each other, both realizing that this could be the changing point of their relationship.

And then Sara made a gesture. The motion was small but unmistakable.

A nod.

Michael had the answer he was hoping for.

Slowly, almost carefully, he slid the white overcoat down her shoulders, letting it drop to a pool on the floor. Then he raised his hands to the low neckline of her blouse and tugged it down her shoulders to expose her lacy white bra.

Michael swallowed at the sight which met his eyes. Her breast was encased in a almost transparent lacy cups, and he could see the outline of her erect nipples, pushing out against the soft material. She was aroused, and her body was displaying it to him.

For someone who had not had any female contact for months, the sight before him brought forth a barely controllable feeling of lust. There was a woman in front of him, he had been infatuated with her for months and she wanted him back. He hardened further at the thought.

Unable to wait any longer, Michael brought his head forward and licked her nipple through the lace, making her gasp. Her hands on his head tightened as his own arousal surged to a higher level, making it almost painfully uncomfortable.

He pressed his face against her and nuzzled, feeling the soft lace against his face, before he pulled back. Sara made a soft sound of protest.

With his fingers, he pulled down the cups of the bra, exposing her breast fully to his face. Her pink nipples jutted out proudly, almost as if they were begging him to come closer. To taste what she had to offer.

Assenting, Michael closed the gap and captured one in his mouth while he tweaked the other gently with his rough fingers. Those nubs hardened into erect buds. The sounds she was making in response to his touches were driving him crazy, but he needed to keep himself in check, although what he really wanted was just to bury himself deep inside her right at this moment in time.

He continued to suck, intermittently scraping his tongue over the now rosy tips, making her whimper as her body shuddered in reaction. Her hips were rubbing in the space between his thighs, making him painfully hard. Michael shifted forwards to bring them closer.

Then her hand moved down from his shoulders down his chest, to the junction between his legs. Michael squeezed his eyes shut, straining for control as she brushed a tentative hand along his hardened length. Her touch was butterfly light, but the effect was explosive. As her blunt nails scraped the tip of his hardness, he let out a hiss of appreciation.

With a groan, he parted her thighs with a knee and slipped a hand under her skirt. As he ran his hand up the inside of her thighs, she lifted a leg up, bracing it against his leg, giving him more access.

At his first touch, she stilled, her breath suspended in her throat.

He ran his fingers back to front. Her panties were wet.

Michael felt heady at the thought that he was the one who made her this way. To arouse her so much that the material between her soft flesh and his fingers was completely soaked.

He scraped a finger against the wet material, across a bump, and she jerked in response. A gasp escaped her lips as she pushed down against his fingers, wordlessly asking for more.

Pushing aside her panties, he locked eyes with her. When his fingers touched the slippery wetness between her legs, her eyes fluttered shut. She moaned and pulled his head to guide his lips back to her breasts.

As he licked her nipples, he continued to play with her folds, alternately rubbing her swollen nub with his thumb and brushing his fingers around the hot, silky lips of her opening. Her breath was becoming shallower and she was becoming wetter with his touches.

Michael could feel the liquid dripping down his hand. His blood rushed to his groin at the thought of burying himself in her hot, wet heat. Burying himself where his fingers were headed to right then.

The first thrust of his finger into her made her freeze. Her slick muscles locked around his fingers.

She was so tight.

Then, with a low groan, he began to drive his fingers in and out.

“More,” she gasped, rocking her hips jerkily up and down his hand. Her hands clenched spasmodically around his length and he swallowed hard, momentarily squeezing his eyes shut.

Michael pulled out and inserted two fingers. Sweat dotted his brow as he strained to control himself as he continued to stroke her wet warmth, this time faster and harder. The slapping sound of wet flesh against wet flesh seemed loud in the relative silence of the infirmary.

Then she stopped him.

No, he thought in dismay. She could not possibly want him to stop now.

But he knew that however hard this was going to be on him, he had to respect her wishes.

Just as he was about to withdraw his fingers, her hand went around his wrist, stilling his movements. “No. Not like this.”

His eyes widened in understanding.

Bracing a hand at his side, Sara used the other hand to pull down his prison issue blue pants together with his white boxers. He lifted himself to allow her easier access.

His hardened member sprang free when the material slipped past his hips, proudly displayed to Sara’s lustful gaze. Its tip was damp from his excitement and Sara ran a finger over it, spreading the sticky liquid all over.

Michael sucked in a sharp breath as his hip jerked forwards reflexively. Her touch sent shockwaves running down his spine. Then she pulled down his foreskin and ran her fingers around the rim. He gritted his teeth, exhaling in a hiss as his entire body tensed.

She grinned, seemingly satisfied with the effect she had on him. Then she wrapped both her hands around him and squeezed lightly.

“Sara…” he gritted out through clenched teeth as heat exploded in his groin.

He reached down and pulled her hands away before he did something embarrassing. Jumping off the chair, he lifted her onto the high chair, reversing their positions.

Her skirt crumpled around her waist, Sara opened her leg wide, exposing herself to him. Her eyes were half shuttered with arousal and her breath was coming out in soft, excited puffs. Her rosy, proud nipples were peeking out over the bunched up bra, begging to be kissed. Michael had never thought that he would ever see her in that position. So wanton. So sexy. So hot for him.

Michael’s eyes went to the almost transparent damp patch at her crotch. Hooking his fingers around the material, he pulled her panties down her hips and let it drop to the floor.

“Now,” she pleaded.

He shuffled closer and caught her lips in a frantic kiss as he guided his length towards her. Then their eyes locked in a heated gaze and he stilled. An unspoken understanding passed between them. They both wanted this.

The first touch of his hard member against her hot, slippery folds made him tremble uncontrollably. He held himself against her, rubbing his tip against her opening, coating himself with her juices.

Then he pushed in.

Sara gasped, throwing her head back at the suddenness of the move. A soft moan escaped her lips as she clamped around him.

Encased in her hot flesh, Michael groaned out loud. She was so tight around him, he could almost feel each individual muscle in her. The urge to move was blinding, but Michael knew that he needed to wait for her to acclimatize to his size.

“Michael,” she whispered tremulously. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was biting her lips.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, suddenly worried.

Just as he was about to withdraw, she pulled him closer. “No,” she protested. “Don’t hold back.”

He swelled further at her demand. At this rate, coupled with his lack of sexual activities in the past few months, he would not be able to last long.

He withdrew slowly, and then thrust in hard, making her gasp as she arched her back. Gritting his teeth for control, he continued to move inside her, feeling her hot, slick walls clamping tight around him.

She matched him stroke for stroke, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts. Her nails bit into his back as her breathing became shallower and shallower.

It was not long before her breath hitched and she tensed, her hands gripping his shoulders in a death grip. Absently, he realized that he was going to have the path of her nails marked all over his upper body.

Then he felt it. He felt her muscles contracting around him, sucking him in, pushing him to the edge. There was no way he could hold back any longer.

With a loud groan, he jerked hard into her, spilling his seeds inside her. His body shuddered uncontrollably with the force of his climax.

Breathless from the exertion, he leaned his head against hers. His hearted pounded hard, sounding abnormally loud to him.

“Michael?”

“Hmm…” he mumbled, lifting his head to look at her.

And then he felt strangely disconnected all of a sudden. Sara seemed to be moving away from him.

He frowned in confusion. “Sara?”

She smiled at him. A soft, sweet smile.

“Scofield!”

What the hell? Why was he hearing Sucre’s voice all of a sudden?

“SCOFIELD! Wake up, man!”

His eyes snapped open to find Sucre standing over him, an incredulous look on his face. A towel was slung over one of his broad shoulders.

“Wha-” Michael started, feeling disoriented.

“Been trying to wake you up. What’s up with you?” he asked, sounding confused. “Cell’s open. We need to go.”

Michael blinked as he sat up.

And then, as his mind cleared, he suppressed the urge to groan. Disappointment washed over him in heavy waves as he realized what had just happened.

He could not believe it. All of that was just a figment of his imagination, the product of his infatuation with Sara.

It was just a dream.

It had been hot.

But it had just been a dream.

The End.