The Contracted Stripper

Back in his office, Dr. Parker sank into his chair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He picked up his phone and dialed the number that had called him.

“Hello?” he said, waiting for a response from the other end.

“Where have you been? Why weren’t you picking up my calls?” the voice on the other end demanded.

“You know I’m at work. I was busy with a patient,” Dr. Parker replied, his tone calm but firm. “And I’ve told you to stop calling at these hours. I’m usually busy.”

“Well, why did you call?” Dr. Parker asked, softer now.

“Just checking up on you,” the voice said, softening.”Really? Someone unexpectedly almost saw your calls.

“Thank God no one did,” the voice said, sounding relieved.

“How is he?” Dr. Parker asked after a pause.”Good, I guess,” the voice replied. “Alright. I have to go back to work now, honey. Take care. Bye.”

“Bye,” the voice responded.

Dr. Parker ended the call just as he heard a knock on the door. “Dr. Parker?” a voice called out.”Come in,” he replied, quickly composing himself.

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As the evening approached, Ryan returned home, exhausted from the day’s events. He went straight to his father’s room, finding him still asleep. Ivy was there, her eyes red from crying.”How is he?” Ryan asked softly.”He’s been sleeping most of the day,” Ivy replied.

“Dr. Parker said that’s a good sign.”Ryan nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. “Thanks for staying with him.”Ivy gave him a small smile. “Of course. He’s our dad.”Ryan sat down beside his father’s bed, taking a moment to gather his thoughts.

He quietly handed the medication to his mother. “Here, Mom. The doctor says to administer them as prescribed.”

“Thank you, Ryan,” Mrs. Rose said, her voice strained with worry. “Your father will be fine.”

Ryan gave her a reassuring nod and turned to leave. He needed to clear his head, so he decided to stop by a nearby bar before heading home.

The bar was dimly lit, with soft jazz playing in the background. He ordered a whiskey, hoping the drink would help ease the turmoil in his mind. He took slow sips, letting the alcohol warm his insides, but his thoughts remained scattered.

After a few drinks, he felt a bit more composed and decided to head home. The drive was silent, and he felt the weight of the day pressing down on him.

When he walked through the front door, he found Iris pacing in the living room. The moment she saw him, she rushed over, her face a mask of concern.

“How’s your dad? Hope it wasn’t too serious. Where is he now? How is he feeling?” she asked in rapid succession.

Ryan answered curtly, “He’s fine,” and headed upstairs to his room, trying to avoid further conversation.

Iris followed him, her questions persistent. “Ryan, I know you’re tired and stressed. Do you want something to eat? How was your day? Is your dad at home or in the hospital?”

He ignored her, slamming his bedroom door shut, as she felt a rush of frustration and exhaustion. But she didn’t have much time to wallow in it because she soon heard a click and the door opening. Before she could fully react, he grabbed her and pulled her into the room.

His kiss was urgent, desperate. She tasted the whiskey on his breath and tried to protest. “Ryan, you’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I’m not drunk,” he snapped, his voice rough. “Compose yourself.” His hands moved over her body with a hunger that silenced her protests. He needed to forget, to feel something other than the weight of his responsibilities.

Iris responded to his touch, her frustrations melting away in the heat of the moment. Their clothes were a blur, quickly discarded as they moved to the bed. His touch was demanding, rough yet full of a passion that took her breath away. He kissed her neck, moving down to her breasts, his hands exploring every inch of her skin.

She moaned softly, her body arching to meet his. He took his time, savoring the feel of her beneath him. His hands moved to her breast as he cupped it as he pinched her nipples slightly making a moan escape from her lips.

He bent his head and filled up his mouth with her boobs, biting and chewing slowly, engulfed in pleasure she had never experienced before, the moan from her lips increased.

Ryan, although drunk, didn’t want to rush things, he explored her body one after the other, ensuring to got the right response from her body.

He lifted her as he laid her gently on the bed, and he started taking off her nightie, Iris tried resisting but the cold stare from Ryan explained better, as she let go of his hands she held.

He continued as he took off the yellow stripe nightie, leaving her naked.

His eyes trailed from her cheeks which had turned red in embarrassment to her medium-sized boobs and pointy nipples, her pretty belly button and of course, her neatly shaved pussy dripping with her juice.

The sight of her dripping pussy had caused a movement in-between his legs, the sight of her bare body, drove him crazy in the most unusual way.

He was a girl’s guy and was always ready to fuck every pussy, but this pussy in front of him was just something else, he wanted to devour her and all of her, but something in him wanted to take it slowly.

At that moment he felt like the world had stopped and the only thing that mattered was the both of them, he took off his white long-sleeved shirt, white vest, and his black trousers and he was left with just his white Versace boxer.

His 6-inch dick could be seen as it stretched inside the boxer, Iris who looked away initially, stealing glances at Ryan as he u dressed, her eyes widened in fear as she saw the hardness and size of Ryan’s dick from his boxers.

She noticed he was a lover of white, his room was painted in white, his bedsheets and duvet were also white, and his bathroom, towel, and most of his clothes were all white.

Lost in thought, Iris was brought back as Ryan spread her leg wide across the bed.

“Please hold on Ryan,” I said, fear written all over my face.

“What is it”? He barked……