Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty

The world slowly reassembles itself around me, the kaleidoscope of sensation fading, leaving a pleasant ache between my legs, a warm thrumming that echoes the rhythmic lapping of the water against the stone edges of the pool. I’m still straddling the buoy, my body humming with the aftershocks of my climax, the gentle rocking motion strangely soothing against my sensitized skin. Frost’s hands linger on my hips, his touch a lingering brand, a reminder of the intensity of what just transpired between us.

He pulls me off the buoy, the movement smooth, effortless, as though I weigh nothing. My legs, still weak and shaky, wrap instinctively around his waist. My arms, equally limp, circle his neck. He holds me close, our bodies pressed together, floating in the warm, aquamarine water. The scent of him, musky and subtly sweet, envelops me, mingling with the earthy fragrance of the aquatic plants.

I stare at him, my mind still hazy with pleasure, my senses heightened, raw. His lips are swollen, glistening, the taste of my own arousal still clinging to them. A sudden, impulsive urge overcomes me, a primal need to reconnect, to taste the shared intimacy. I lean in, my tongue darting out, tracing the outline of his lips, savoring the lingering evidence of my release.