DOCTORS IN LUST by the American Dental Association
The door to the dental office burst open from a kick that can only come from two lovers locked in a torrid brace of animal passion.
They had just met hours before at the 2012 Annual meeting at the Moscone Convention Centre in sunny San Francisco. Nonetheless, in their hearts it felt like it had been an eternity.
The two had left the conference dinner well before dessert, eyes locked on one another and hearts beating with anticipation. Soon enough they were in a cab heading to Brad’s office at 8th and Market streets.
“Dr. Robards,” she breathed.
“Please..Call me Brad,” he smiled, exposing all 32 of his cavity-free pearly whites.
While Brad held Mary in his strong arms tightly to his chest, he still retained the finesse of being able to administer a silver crown over a fractured molar.
“Brad,” Mary whispered, slipping into the dentist’s chair. “You have very beautiful...bicuspids.”
“As do you. The nicest in the state. You must let me probe your perfect teeth.”
“You know just what to say to a woman,” Mary panted.
Brad disappeared for a moment leaving Mary alone in the sterile white room as she undid the top few buttons of her light blue blouse.
Seconds later, he re-appeared with a shiny metal probe complete with sharpened pic.
“Oh Brad…” she murmured.
“Mary,” he cooed, ramming the object into her awaiting mouth.
She moaned with each of his thrusts in an around her gums which showed absolutely no sign of plaque buildup.
After a few glorious moments, she gently removed the metal instrument and placed it on a nearby utility table. With her left hand she raised the overhead lamp as her right hand lowered the dental chair backwards to a reclining position.
Brad whipped off his surgical mask and threw it on the floor. “I thought you practiced safe dental hygiene!” he exclaimed.
“I do,” she purred, “but first let me give you a fluoride job.”
The two switched positions in the chair as Brad said, “I always wanted one from a woman.”
In no time at all, Mary had expertly coated Brad’s upper and lower teeth with a gooey substance resembling guacamole through two plastic mouth guards.
“I hope you like pineapple. They were all out of bubblegum,” she whispered in his ear causing the hairs on the nape of his neck to quiver.
After several moments of intense bushing, the two flossed in unison and Mary collapsed into Brad’s arms in the chair.
“I hope I wasn’t too noisy”, Mary sighed.
“Nah. I hope I didn’t spit on you.”
Mary nuzzled her head against his chest and asked seductively, “Have any bite plates?”
“You vixen!” he laughed and thought about when their next appointment would be.
© Copyright 2017 Steve Balsky. All rights reserved.
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