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smolvenger · 2 years ago

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The Cure for Virginity

Robert Laing x fem! Reader Oneshot

Summary: Charlotte thinks you have been a virgin for too long. You should take advantage of a certain fellow tenant at the High-Rise, she says. The best amenity in the building- Doctor Robert Laing.

Word Count: 8K

Warnings: 18+, SMUT Y'ALL (First Time, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, Doctor kink, Virginity kink, dirty talk), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, and loss, Richard Wilder being a prick. But some moments of fluff and romance.

A/N: My first time (heh) ever writing for High-Rise! I hope you guys like it! Comments, Reblogs, Private Messages, and asks about my work are always appreciated!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @villainousshakespeare(I hope y'all don't mind me tagging away)

"You should be adding on the vows of poverty and obedience!"

“I’m not a nun, Charlotte!” you shot back.

“At this point, you might be!”

You huffed as you kicked your feet in the water of the pool. It was packed with people that afternoon. It was one of the new joys of the place. Even the janitors glided by to clean the floors with mops on their shoes as if they were skates, smiling.

You were getting to know the residents one by one. So far, you had befriended some of the women. Like sweet, quiet Helen with her soft brown hair and a baby bump that was overdue. Helen sat on a chair. She read a magazine as her kids played Marco Polo in the pool. And Charlotte- tall, slender, with dark hair and always a laugh in her smile. But now, the laugh was at you as she waded through the waters.

“Please shut up, we’re in a public space! There are kids everywhere! Can we discuss the sale on baked goods they have in the grocery store here instead?” you begged.

“They might as well learn! Gave Toby the Talk when he was five!” Charlotte shot back.

“Uh-Uhm- anyone watch any good shows on the television lately?” you then changed desperately.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. She shook the water from her ears, her beautiful black hair covered by a white swimming cap. She went up to the pool’s edge and folded her arms over it, resting her chin on them.

“This place has everything for you, Y/N- A grocery store, a spa, a school, a gym, and even a sex life if you want…” she continued.

You splashed the water on her face, and she laughed as she held her arms up in defense.

“But the thing is…I know someone for you. Someone more than able to take care of it…” Charlotte began.

“I’m pretty sure any average penis can do the job! And why do you care so much? It’s a personal choice about my body- none of your beeswax!” you retorted.

She raised one of her eyebrows as she swam to you.

“Not even oral?” she asked.

She would not be silenced by a refusal. You leaned in.

“No!” you whispered.

She pulled herself to the edge. Water splashed as she emerged to sit on the edge next to you.

“Y/N, I have a tip for you- two words!” she said.

She held up a fist and uncurled two fingers with the first and last names.

“Robert Laing.”

“Oh my god, you’re setting me up?” you sighed.

She shrugged.

“Why not? His tongue reached places I never thought it could!” she recalled.

Your jaw dropped.

“Are you seriously setting me up with your boyfriend?!” you cried, leaning forward.

“No! He’s not…” she answered.

“So, he’s your ex…you’re setting me up with your ex!?” you questioned.

“It was a fling- long over now. We’ve moved on. But we’re on good terms! All the women love him for a reason- he’s incredible! You’re going to lose it once, Sister Y/N, it might as well be someone who knows how to do the job. Listen to me-“

She pointed up to the above floors.

“Men have the brothel. Women have Laing.”

She flipped her legs up and walked over to the chairs.

“What do you think, Helen?!” she prodded.

You looked over to see Helen as she reclined on the pool chair. She tipped her lovely face from her magazine.

“Of Robert Laing?” she asked.

“Yeah-in bed!” Charlotte asked.

“Incredible! Nothing like it!!” Helen agreed.

Are you kidding me? Oh god- this place has a gigolo! you thought.

You forced your jaw to shut. High-Rise life wasn’t like normal life. It was a culture shock for you. Here, any proper rules about what was good or bad were out the window. People lived as they wanted and did what they wanted. There was no consequence. Each night, in the middle of the Twentieth floor, you could hear giggles and laughter. You passed people groaning and screaming with sex from their rooms. If not in the halls. The loud music from the constant partying was everywhere the second it was dark. You even heard housewives discussing what drugs they inhaled as they carried brown grocery bags.

“He’s a Shy boy. At First. But if you're alone with him in a bedroom…well, it’s a different man. But it’s not so intense that your first time with him would be too much. Unless you want to try anal,” Charlotte informed you.

You shot a look at Charlotte. Kids ran around the pool and tried to cartwheel into the water by you.

But Helen nodded and smiled. She spoke with the cherubic cheerfulness of a Disney princess.

“Oh yes, even anal with Robert is fantastic!” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Besides, you had more pressing matters. There was a party that Royal’s wife, Ann, invited you to. A full 18th-century style ball complete with costumes! And what luck that she had costumes in your size available to rent!

Your gown was a lighter color- a creamy white, right in a shade that flattered you. Every guest was dressed in white or cream in their Rococo attire, like you. Your stays loosened now that they adjusted to your body. There were peals and beading on the bodice. Your large skirt swished as you moved, enjoying a fresh glass of champagne in hand.

You went by to try and make small talk when you felt something hit your skirt and on the ground. It was a bottle of wine. Fallen to the floor. A baritone voice behind you muttered “shit!”

Your stays prevented you from slouching, you squatted down to get it. You saw a long, elegant hand also reach for it. You looked up to see a young man who was not in 18th-century wear but a modern suit. In the black jacket and pants. He stuck out like a sore thumb against all the white of the guests.

But Holy Crap he was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes, a soft crop of hair a color between blonde and red, and his suit held a tall, lean frame.

“Oh- I’m so sorry! Did I get your dress?” he asked.

You both got up. Your stomach flipping, you felt self-conscious. The cut of the gown and the stays were better than any push-up bra. It was bumping up your cleavage. You felt his eyes flutter down there and then jolt back up. Your hands clasped and you brought them up to your neck in both surprise and a surge of modesty.

“No, you didn’t at all!” you insisted.

You glanced at the bottle of Riesling he had- you liked that flavor. You enjoyed getting it from many an evening at the grocery store. Especially when your bank account was low. It was affordable, crisp, and delicious.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

You gave him your name. He reached his hand with a smile.

“I’m Laing. Doctor Robert Laing.”

Doctor Robert Laing? That Doctor Laing?! The gigolo!? That was who the ladies were discussing?! You thought.

You stared at him, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Oh! Doctor Laing! I heard of you,” you replied out loud.

You didn’t need to tell him the context though. You offered your hand and offered it for him to shake.

“Good things, I hope!” he added with a wink that made your heart stop.

He accepted your hand, his hands felt ice cold, but soft.

“And how do you know Royal? He wouldn’t invite you if you didn’t know him,” Robert asked.

“Not well. I do see his wife around. Got to chat with her. We wound up getting along. She invited me here. She insisted I go out and get to know the people here…moved in two weeks ago,” you explained.

“Guess I’m still new here too-Month and a half!” Robert chatted.

“What room?” you asked.

“2505,” he answered.

You got to about talking where you came from as he began to light a limp cigarette, puffing at it lightly. He was very polite. His eyes were on you, listening more than talking. You discussed what you thought of the High-Rise. If you have been to the spa yet. Who you met. You then discussed the music playing at the party. You told him the orchestra was playing ABBA. One of your favorite bands!

“Y/N, that glass is already empty- could I fetch you another drink?” he offered.

“Sure thing!”

Right as Robert turned to get your drink, a burly, bearded man in costume blocked him.

“Hey there, dickhead- this is a themed party!” he declared.

Robert Laing could hardly say a word before the brute half-picked him up, dragging him off. He held onto the Doctor’s collar like a cat carrying a kitten. Guests seeing him pass by snickered at Robert’s modern attire. But you followed.

“Hey! Put him down! He didn’t do anything!” you tried to protest.

You beat your fists at Jerkass’s arm, but he swiped you away. He ignored you as he grabbed the wine bottle from Robert’s hand. He tossed the handsome doctor into the elevator roughly. Then pushed the button for it to close.

The Doctor locked eyes with you as the doors slid shut and he vanished. His face looked sad and scared. Far from the swaggering sex maniac you heard of. “Cheap bastard” the Jerkass cursed at the bottle before tossing it on the white fur rug.

Royal’s dog, a white German Shepherd with a bow tie, approached the bottle to sniff it. You bent your knees and picked it up. Yes, it was a cheap brand. But it tasted good. And Robert was trying to be a good guest.

You hid the bottle behind your back until you snuck into the bedroom. The bed was piled with the coats and purses of the guests. You planted it in your large purse by the pillows amongst everyone’s things. Then you turned back to enjoy the party. After an hour, you left, saying you had work early tomorrow. You got your purse and punched the lift to the Twenty-Fifth Floor.

You went to room 2505 and knocked. Robert opened, bewildered. A strand of his hair had flown out and he lacked his jacket. Not that it detracted his looks, not at all.

“Here- your wine,” you offered.

You pulled the bottle from your purse and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he answered.

“Are you okay-You look like you’ve been in a fight!” you asked.

He let out a deep sigh, pressing a hand to his head.

“No- lift broke for a bit,” he explained.

“Oh, that’s miserable! As if being kicked out wasn’t bad enough!” you commented.

He looked down at the bottle. He turned to put it on a chair and then returned to you, leaning closer against the doorframe.

“You seemed to be happy there. I’m sorry I had to make you leave,” he apologized.

“It’s alright. I came to wear this costume. Nothing more.” you added, giving the skirt a swish with your hand.

He leaned a little closer.

“You do look beautiful in it,” he complimented.

Lightning struck you. The edges of your vision had stars and you tried to even process if what you heard was real. He took a step aside, gesturing to his flat.

“But that wine…it’s not as good to drink alone. How about…how about we split it?” he offered.

You froze where you were. Your breath stopped, becoming a lump in the middle of your throat. Your hands turned sweaty.

“I don’t have any food in my stomach for that much booze…” you answered.

His eyebrows lowered, yet there was an honesty in his eyes. Even innocence. No guile to have his way with you. Not like Helen’s husband, Wilder. Wilder would charge at you. Making offers of his bed or the nearest surface. Not caring when you said no. You’d slap him and flee before he could grab you.

The soft way Robert looked at you suddenly made you panic with regret. The words flew out of you like a burp.

“Serve it with dinner and I’ll call it a deal!” you blurted.

Shit, Shit, shit, what the fuck was I thinking? you thought.

Your pulse raced. That was too forward, too bold. But then he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll make it. You don’t have to provide a thing.”

Time stopped. You could hardly believe it.

“Then it’s settled. Are you free tomorrow?” you asked.

“Yes,” Robert confirmed.

“What time?” you asked.

“Let’s say Seven.”

“It’s done. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

He smiled at you.

“I look forward to it,” he answered.

You said your goodbyes. The second you got back to your flat, you threw yourself onto the couch in a pile of white silk of your dress. You put a pillow to your face and screamed into it, kicking your legs in giddy joy. Your maturity level descending.

A date! A date! I have a date! I asked a hot guy out! And he said yes!!!! Oh my god, oh my god, how am I even going to sleep tonight??? ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The next day, you were out of coffee and bread and headed down to the grocery store. But who should also be there, wheeling a cart, but Helen. She waved at you, gesturing to you to come near her.

“What’s up, Y/N- there’s a look on your face! Was Royal’s fun?” she asked.

“Helen-I met Laing last night,” you reported.

She gasped and then smiled.

“See- lovely fellow! And a looker too, isn’t he?” she teased.

You looked down at your hands on the grocery cart with a smile that confirmed- Yes, he was handsome. Helen kept giggling, a blush on her cheeks. Then you returned up at her, an idea making you frown.

“And are you sure he’s available? I don’t want to make some poor woman miserable, even by accident!” you asked.

“Yes- not committed to anybody…he’s been around. But no attachments. If there was, I’d know!” she confirmed.

Your carts paused in the cereal aisle. You took a deep breath.

“I’m having dinner with him tonight” you announced.

“What! That’s wonderful! You did the work for us!” she chirruped, clapping her hands together.

“What do you mean ‘work’?” you prodded.

“Charlotte and I had a chat, and we had a plan- we were going to set you up with him. I’d go to you and tell you everything about him. Charlotte would go to Robert’s and sing every bit of your praises. Then you’d both agree to meet up or exchange phone numbers!”

You gave a smile and shrugged.

“Thank you-I appreciate the thought! But I’m able to find my own men and set up my own dates of course!” you replied.

You pushed your carts to a corner to talk. You then explained how you met him and the party. Returning the wine bottle and everything.

“He’s even going to cook- isn’t that thoughtful?!” she commented.

“I’m just nervous about it. Dates make me nervous,” you confided.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Helen comforted.

A lady passed by with sunglasses over her eyes and a bold shade of lipstick. Passerby’s from the aisles asked for her autograph. She half-smiled and signed notepads with a flourish. The dog in her cart leaned his nose close at them to get a whiff, wagging his tail.

“Think of this- you’ll have a lovely dinner at minimum. And at maximum- you won’t be walking when I see you tomorrow,” she reasoned, raising a hand to rub her pregnant belly.

You felt your entire face get hot with embarrassment.

“I’m not the type to kiss on the first date, much less shag! It’s only a dinner-not a wedding night! But I’ll let you know how it goes. So don’t get your hopes up! And Helen, And that goes for Charlotte too! I know you’ll tell her!” you insisted.

Both of you wheeled your carts to get in the long line for the cashier.

“But I still have to…impress him,” you blubbered. Could you even live up to the other women here?

Helen rubbed your back, “If he didn’t like you, he’d say no. Y/N, you know he’s nice! Just wear your best dress-that should make you feel confident!”

You let out a deep exhale. Your carts moved forward in the line.

“Part of me is tempted to cancel. Save myself the embarrassment. Or the heartbreak,” you confessed.

Helen leaned into you.

“Charlotte says he sunbathes in the afternoons. Naked. Get to her place and look down if you want a peek at what to look forward to. That might convince you to go forward.” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Holy shit, this can’t be real. I can’t be doing this, you thought.

Your heart was racing, your finger shaking as you pressed the button to go to the Twenty-Fifth floor. Up it went, up, up, up. You could chicken out and run away, but no- that was being a coward. Didn’t you want this in the first place? Hell, you were the one who flat-out asked him!

What if it all went wrong? What if then he hated you? What if you hated him? Yes, he was incredibly handsome but handsome men could be total pricks. Wilder was as handsome as they come. But the man was a slimy, creepy rat bastard you wanted to shove off the highest balcony. If only Helen would divorce his sorry ass by now. She didn’t deserve him. But what if Wilder was a sweet guy back then? What if when Helen began dating him, he wasn’t like that? People change. What if Robert seemed okay at first and then turned into an asshole who broke your heart or hurt you? What then?

But all that was for later. Now was now.

It’s a free dinner, at least you thought remembering Helen’s words.

Taking a deep breath, the elevator dinged, and you stepped out to the hall.

You checked a hand mirror in your pocket to make sure your makeup was right, and that there weren’t any noticeable stains in your teeth. Your dress was blush pink, showing your shoulders and snug on your body with a flared skirt. Pink, how ironic- that mix of innocent white and passionate red. You had jewelry and earrings complete with heels. The heating broke throughout for a few hours, and you wore a coat over your dress from the chill of the building.

There it was, checking the notepad you had in your pocket and then double-checking, it was the right room- 2505. You entered, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

You knocked on the door and saw him. Your body froze at the sight of him. If this was real. If he was real. He was in a white dress shirt with a grey jacket and black tie. So simple, but so becoming. His eyes were soft when they looked at you, like the gaze of a doe. This couldn’t be the wild sex maniac the women of the High-Rise gossiped about. The man they went to for sex as they went to the spa for massages. Or was he?

“Hello, Robert….” You greeted.

He opened it.

“Please…come in…can I take your coat?”

“Yes…”

You sucked in the air when you felt him behind you, his hands raised up. Taking your coat. They were gentle as they brushed against your shoulders. You felt his eyes drink you in from behind. Seeing your dress. Seeing the outline of your body. But you did not raise an arm or hand to cover yourself, you let him look. He walked over and put the coat over a hook on the wall.

“Welcome, Y/N. You look lovely again. Make yourself at home,” he greeted with a smile.

Your chest fluttered as you mumbled a “thank you.”

You noticed the room- one wall had a tiny square of grey paint on it. But the other walls were tall and brown with rectangular columns- sleek and modern. A few boxes were in the back. There was a photo pinned to one wall of him in a casual shirt smiling and hugging a young woman. You thought you glimpsed a bed in one corner and promptly turned your head away to ignore it. Near the dinner table was a sliding glass door to a balcony like every house as the sun had finally set and it darkened to nighttime. The room was lit a little low- not garishly bright. But not too dark.

You saw him in his lovely suit and his tie. You smiled at him.

“Thank you so much, Robert. The place looks wonderful,” you complimented.

He gallantly pulled out the chair at the table for you. You made a smile too big for your face and your stomach fluttered. Robert made his way to the other end. There was the Riesling along with a small salad bowl and a meal.

“Well, what brought you here?” you asked.

Robert’s hand froze, fork in mid-air.

“It was my…my sister,” he answered.

“She invited you?”

“No, she died…” he replied.

This man at the party held himself like a demigod, a touch of the divine within him. But at the mention of his sister, here you were with the mortal half.

“Oh, Robert…that’s awful…” you said.

He began to blink. He then reached into his pocket, lit a cigarette with shaking hands, and began to smoke. His hands were still shaking after a several puffs with the cigarette. You saw a tear in the duct of his eye. You got up, went to your coat pockets, retrieved tissues, and hurried over to give him one.

“Here…here…” you said.

You heard sniffs. You then handed him a glass of water from the kitchen, and he began to gulp it up. His eyes were puffy with quiet tears. He then glanced at the photo.

“We were close. And she was the nicest, most genuine person you could imagine. She had a full life…but not a long one…” he continued.

“Robert, that’s still a tragedy…and you should grieve how you want….” You comforted, leaning closer to him.

Looking down at your hands, you saw they fidgeted. Glancing around the room, you wondered if now the right time was to even have this dinner. You retreated two steps from him.

“Do you need some space? I can go back to-”

“No! No- please! Please stay…” Robert pleaded, leaning forward in his chair, a hand up to stop you.

“Alright, I will.”

You returned to the chair and sat down.

“Sometimes, I’m over her. I think I’ve stopped crying…then it hits me…I’m sorry, Y/N, you weren’t expecting a crying mess….” He confided.

“I’m pretty sure losing a beloved sibling would make any person into a crying mess…” you reasoned.

He then looked at the dinner…

“We should start. The food might get cold,” he reasoned.

You sat down and began with the rolls in a basket on the table.

“So, tell me…tell me more about your job! I know you’re a doctor,” you queried.

“Well, I’m a physiologist. And a professor…” he said.

As he dug into the salad, his shoulders began to lower. His lips curled to a small smile as he looked at you.

“Not just a medical doctor? That’s impressive. That requires lots of studying to get approved!” you praised, nodding your head.

“I teach physiology to medical students in training. How to do autopsies. One poor chap flat out fainted once in the middle last month.”

“Well, can’t blame him! I see too much gore in a horror movie, and I have to cover my eyes!” you commented.

“It’s the human body! It’s fascinating!” he said, gesticulating with his hands.

He grinned wider and set the cigarette on an ashtray on the table. The salad and main course and side dishes vanished. Time passed easily talking to him. One topic you discussed excitedly so much that you had to freeze your hands from knocking over the Riesling bottle placed next to you. He lit a new one, and began to absent-mindedly smoke, but kept his eyes on you. You sipped on your glass and realized he had finished this.

“Oh, the bottle…it’s on the other side,” he commented.

“Here, let me bring it over. Would you like me to pour it for you?” you offered.

“Yes…”

You went over and poured the glass. He picked up the cigarette, the smoke curling up to twist and melt into the air. Then he looked at you with reverence above him. It was a nice picture. Domestic even. Your gaze met his and you pulled up the wine bottle before you could overflow his glass by accident.

Feminism was leaving your mind like filtering sand each second you laid eyes on him. Could you see yourself as his wife already? Was it too soon?

You could see yourself waking up next to him. Fixing him coffee in the morning. Adjusting his tie before he went to work, asking for him to tell you every bit of it as you gave him a demure kiss on the cheek. When it came to the time, he would be back home, you’d dress up with lipstick, skirts, pearls, and perfume just like now. You would have dinner prepared on the table or a hot bath too for good measure. He would enter and greet you with one of the smiles that made you flutter and a deeper kiss than that in the morning. You would pour him a drink when he came in. He’d praise the dinner but then look at you. Saying he’d rather devour you. Then pick you up. Carry you to the kitchen countertop. Shove away the leftover ingredients. He’d make hickeys across your pearl-draped neck. Then he'd push you to lie down on it. He’d lift your skirt, drop his pants and fuck you senselessly on the countertop until….

The footsteps of people out in the hall snapped you back. You felt your entire body clench, arousal already soaking your panties. A pit in your stomach with the food. You made yourself swallow the fantasy out. That was for later. You had to be present. Your body felt hot like it had a fever. Returning to your seat, you poured yourself another sip of Riesling. Grateful that he chilled it. Robert turned his head to the outside balcony, gesturing to it.

“Ah- look outside! It’s beautiful tonight! Sometimes I can hear the crickets…or see the stars,” he suggested.

The two of you went out to the balcony and looked up and out. You saw some stars, whatever wasn’t blocked by the fog of London nearby. Crickets chirruped from below. Both of you admired it for a few minutes.

He turned to you, flicking his cigarette off the end. It was like a tiny, red star before blinking into nothing. As if it dissolved into the night air before hitting the pavement.

“Y/N, thank you for earlier…and for returning the bottle…” he said with a smile.

“You’re welcome. They were dicks to you. And it’s a good wine. And thanks for opening up about your sister-I think there are half-off roses at the store. I’ll send some to you in her honor, just tell me a color…” you offered.

“I should be the one getting you flowers. I had work and had to cook the food- ran out of time,” he explained.

“Well, I’m not the one who needs it!” you quipped.

He chuckled warmly. You realized he was leaning closer. And you could pick up his scent- cigarette smoke and cologne mixed up in the drink that was Doctor Robert Laing. His eyes hypnotized you. His face, smooth and handsome, transfixed you. You felt his hands on your waist. You felt him lifting you up, sitting you down on hard brick and mortar. But your gaze never left his. You looked down and he up.

“Robert, I…” you began.

But the words stopped. Your thoughts stopped.

His eyes went to your lips. Then he touched your cheek. That cold, soft hand. He began to lean forward.

Oh God, Oh god, oh god, ShitFuckShitFuck, it was about to happen! You thought in a thrilled panic.

Before you could close your eyes and seal the kiss, you felt a gust of cold wind on your back. You were so transfixed by him that you didn’t register where he put you. Blinking and then turning around, you saw he had set you to sit on the balcony. Right over the twenty-five floors below to the hard concrete. A push of his arms and you were a goner.

You let out a scream.

You wrapped your arms around him. You clung onto him like a koala and buried your face into his neck.

“Robert! Please!” you cried.

You could feel his smile, but he wrapped his arms around you. His hands were on your back, supporting you, keeping you safe.

“Okay- it’s okay, I got you,” he assured.

“Take me off- now!” you insisted.

He wrapped his arms around you, picking you up like you were as light as a toy doll and setting you down. He wiped his hands on his sides.

“I’m so sorry. Some of the women liked that. I should have asked,” he apologized.

“It’s okay-you got me off!” you assured him.

“Here, I know what’ll make you feel better. I brought my records with me…would you like to hear one?” he asked.

You nodded. He brought out a box. There was such a wide variety that he collected. He insisted on not sticking religiously to one genre. Good music was good music. He offered you your choice of albums. You selected one of the old-school crooners from the fifties. He set it on and began to play it. The album started as you both sat there, listening. The music melting your adrenaline from the balcony. You turned and felt him look at you. He then offered an open hand.

“Can we…can we dance?” he offered.

“Yes.”

You felt him pull you up. You felt him take one hand in your other and you felt him reach an arm around your waist to your back. You both moved. It wasn’t as much dancing as it was gentle swaying. But he was so graceful, so soothing you didn’t care.

“Robert, why did you say yes to dinner?” you asked.

“I’ve been lonely here, Y/N. I wanted company. And after that party, I wanted your company…you made this lonely man feel a little less lonely in this place here.” he explained.

The crooner’s voice went up to end the song and a new one began.

“Your hands…they’re cold. Doctor’s hands are always cold,” you commented.

“Then here,” he offered.

Robert put one hand to his face, letting out an exhale. on the palm. Then he rubbed it on his pants. The friction creating more heat. Then he grasped your hand again.

“No cold hands, no?” he asked.

“Much better,” you nodded.

“Y/N, would you like to learn something medical?” he asked, continuing to sway with you.

“Yes.”

“You can feel the pulse in various places in the body, yes, but that includes your stomach. And that’s for a certain kind of pulse- PMI. Point of Maximum Impulse,” he explained.

“Where is it on me?” you asked.

“Well, can I touch you with my cold doctor's hands?” he quipped.

“Yes,” you answered with a giggle.

He lowered his hand to press the flesh gently beneath your left breast, and between rib bones. You inhaled sharply at his touch.

“There. That’s the PMI- one of the strongest beats from your heart. You can guess certain heart diseases feeling it,” he taught.

“And what can you tell about my pulse, Doctor Laing?” you asked.

His cheeks became pink at the word.

“That it’s…it’s racing…very fast.”

“And why does the heartbeat race? You’re the expert,” you teased.

“Anxiety or danger… but also excitement…”

“What about yours? How is your pulse?” you asked.

“Here…why don’t you tell me yourself…” he offered, smiling back.

You lifted your hand from his and placed it on the left side of his chest, over his grey jacket. You could feel it starting to race.

“It’s going fast too…” he whispered.

“From anxiety, danger…or excitement…”

“Yes…”

Robert then leaned forward, his nose grazing yours. An inch before, almost seeking permission. You gazed at each other’s eyes and then lips.

And finally, they touched sealing into a kiss. You felt him press you tight- an embrace you would never want him to release from. He held onto you. The music swelled- it was now a romantic ballad. He let go.

“I had a good night tonight,” Robert told you.

“I did too…”

His hand dropped to touch the side of your face. He kissed more and more. He pushed his tongue in, and you made a noise at the feel. Only to kiss him more. You felt his hand on your lower back press you closer. Your hips were connecting. Arousal soaked you down below. But even more this time. This time it was real. The friction made you chilled, hypnotized. Nothing, no one else mattered- except him.

“I…I don’t want it to end now….” He confessed.

He kissed you, but then you realized he had guided you right into the column before the kitchen, and he was pawing at your clothes, looking for the zipper in your back. Your mind then went blank in surprise.

“Robert- wait! Please, wait!” you pleaded breathily, putting a hand on his chest to stop.

He paused. His arms fell. A strand of hair was loose and his lips were bright pink.

“Did the ladies tell you about me?” you asked.

“No,” he reported.

“I know you’re experienced but I never…never did this before, Robert…” you explained.

“Oh...alright��” he nodded.

No comments. No words of lack of surprise nor total surprise. No laughter and no judgment. No teasing. He only accepted it as a fact, like the earth was round.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away. I got excited. I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot- but I’ll stop,” He apologized.

He took a few steps back.

Yet the look of him made you light-headed with lust. All yours if only for this night. The raving reviews of the women taunted your mind. And the creeping, slivering desire you felt for Robert Laing overwhelmed you. You realized you didn’t want to call it a night and return home. It was the first step of a steep hike. The view from above would be worth each nerve-wracking step. And that he felt for you…

Your heart was racing out of control. Your head was clear despite the wine, the pooling in your body was urging at you, telling you. It's time. You're ready. And you know it. You want this. You want him.

“I told you to wait… not to stop. Not completely. I trust you. I want this. And I want it to be you…” you directed.

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied, stepping forward.

You slide a hand behind his head, through his hair. He kissed you further, deeper. You moaned into it.

“The bed. If it’s the first time, you need the bed…” he whispered.

You would let him have you anywhere, but you still smiled. He led you over there to that bed. He laid you down.

“Look at you in that dress, it made me want to ruin you the minute you came in,” he growled.

He kissed you hard and passionately. You sighed into it. Some gentle pressure from his push and you laid down on the bed. He laid on top of you and you felt his weight. It wasn’t to crush you, but just enough that it was like an embrace. You felt a gasp from your lips as he undid his tie and tossed it to the side. His hands raised your skirt. He grinned seeing the nicest lace underwear you had selected. Already visibly stained by how wet you were.

“Here…I’ll make you ready even more, darling…” he said.

He crept a finger down the hem. He then looked up.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes, you can…” you nodded.

You let out a gasp feeling his finger inside you. He moved it around and you shuddered. A gasp that stopped in your throat as he stretched you out, felt your walls, getting deeper. He explored you and you had to get used to it- the newness, the intrusion. But you didn’t want him out yet. He licked his lips as he curled it up, eliciting a small moan from you. You felt him move up your folds and then finding your clit. As he began to circle it, you splayed a hand over his back and grabbed onto his jacket. A shuddering sound escaped you. The man was fully clothed but you were already a mess for him. You began to writhe as he circled it more, in response, a groan came out of you.

“There?” he asked.

“There!” you confirmed in a gasp.

“More, my dear-more?” he asked.

“Yes…then keep them- oh!” you cried, interrupted as he put in a second finger.

You felt your own legs open wider for space. He found the right spot, and you began whimpering. Neck arching and close your eyes to keep feeling it. Then he removed it, wiping the juices on your thigh. You felt cold, and empty without them in you. But that was only the first stage; preparation.

“Can’t believe I’m your first. First to touch you. First to ruin you. First to fuck you. I don’t want any man after to compare to me,” he boasted.

Your fingers began to grip the sheets to steady yourself. Both of you tossed away your shoes.

He unzipped the back of your dress. You pulled him forward, kissing him again, but moving to the lobe of his ear, his neck. He removed your dress. He took off your stockings, kissing your stomach as it glided over and letting it float down to the floor. You were in a bra and underwear. You raised a hand to cup his cheek. Despite the shakiness in your hands and your own brain racing through the fog of arousal, fear, and thrill. You pulled him in to kiss him again, not caring that your teeth clank. He wrapped an arm around you, and you felt the warmth right on your skin.

“We have some walls to test here. I want you to be screaming for the neighbors to complain,” he voiced, taking off his jacket to toss on the floor.

You half sat up and helped him to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt. With a smooth movement, he removed his pants. You saw the erect outline through his white underwear. You felt your eyes widen as you saw him. Tanned and ripped, clear muscles, strong biceps, and a wide chest and shoulders. He smiled proudly as you sat there ogling him.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said.

“That’s good. I like what I see too. There’s just one thing that could be better,” he said.

He went back to kiss you and felt one hand reach to your bra strap in the back. Both of you forgot about the enforced chill of the apartments. You had the fire of bare skin on bare skin. He paused and looked down at your exposed breasts with a smile. He raised his hand, grazing a thumb over your nipple. You shivered from it.

“This exquisite and uninvaded. Untouched. Looks like I’ll have to end that…” he mumbled.

He wrapped his arms around you to pull you back down, and you peppered kisses all over his jaw and his neck. You even found his earlobe and pecked it. You felt his own hardness press on you as well as his leg. A thin line of cloth on both of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Keeping your bodies from joining. Ache. Need. You felt him against you. Your hips rocked to his and Laing let out a groan. He teased his hardness against your clothed entrance.

“And you know the procedure, Doctor?” you teased with a heated giggle.

“I know it well if you want it,” he replied, his breath hot against you.

“Yes, please…I need you to fuck me,” you mewled, arching your shoulders back, tits splaying.

You never heard this tone in your voice. Wanton. Downright pornographic. But here it was.

You felt his own hips against yours and a shudder between you both. Then he crawled up, and you felt his hardness outline on your stomach. He looked at you.

“Then, keep laying supine…and keep calling me Doctor…” he requested.

He kissed one breast, eliciting a moan from you. He moved on to the other. Your arms reached down until your fingers traced his shoulders. You found his hair and combed all ten of your fingers through it. He moved down to kiss your hip bone. His own hands went up, tracing the side of your leg.

You felt his long fingers splaying over your hip bones and the hem. He was slow- as if enjoying feeling every inch of you. Curling around the hem, he pulled the panties down your thighs. He put them through your knees, through your calves, and off. As if this was a ceremony. Your heart drummed further, your head spinning as he looked down on you. He looked at you bare. His eyes kept between your legs, licking your lips at the sight of your sex.

He removed his underwear and kicked it away. He was already dripping small pearls. You swallowed a gasp. He was monstrous…not that you had any before to compare it to. He returned to hover over you. He pried your legs open with his hands, warm from his breath but also the touch of your skin. You felt your own hips arch forward for him.

You glanced over to the side, seeing the night. It was dark against the soft lights of the apartment. The sky was clear. Stars finally outshone the city smog. A beautiful, peaceful night indeed. A perfect night to lose your innocence to Laing.

He then tipped a finger beneath your chin, moving you to face him.

“I want to see you, I want to look in your eyes when I’m the first one to fuck you, the first to enter you. I want you to look at me,” he rasped.

“Yes, Doctor.”

Looking right into his eyes, you opened your shaking legs. He sank into you. Bit by bit. Inch by inch. Moans coming out of you. Then he moved his hips and let it all in.

You let out one little cry when he was fully inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and his moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. He panted right next to you. He kept his eyes on you. Knowing how special this moment was. He finally claimed you. Nothing else would change that now in the future. Robert Laing was the first to enter you. The first to show you sinful bliss.

Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

Your breath hitched when finally, he was inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and a moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

“There…there’s a good girl…like that…” he rasped.

He thrust into you again, and again. A voice flew out of you, a voice you never knew you had. He began to pick up only slightly. You gasped- you liked this.

“Yes! Yes, yes! Doctor-fuck- yes!!” you hissed.

You tilted your head back, eyes closing to enjoy the sensation when he cupped your jaw and pulled it down. You opened your jaw as he traced a finger over your lips.

“Remember-eyes on me….” He panted.

You let his face meet yours. His lips grazed yours in an open kiss. He even took his forehead and pressed yours against it. You felt his breath hot against you.

“Angel, can you…can you take more?” he asked.

You nodded, your hands reaching to that strong back and digging your nails in. He responded by snapping his hips right into you, such a hard pull you felt the invasion arrange your insides.

“Doctor!” you cried out.

It was the sweetest invasion, the pinprick of pain that brought pleasure. He picked up the speed. His own groans from his pink lips serenade your whorish moans. Then more.

“Fuck, you’re-you’re tight. Shit-shit- taking me so well, there- there’s- fuck!-my good girl,” he whimpered as he picked up the pace.

You felt yourself get dizzy. Your hands around, reaching his hair and raking your nails deeper onto his back. He had found the right spot, your hips meeting his, but angling- deeper, with the speed increasing. You were sliding against the bed, yet you weren’t stopping him. He then took your lower thighs and lifted them, he reached the upper angle, near your clit. He was getting rougher.

“Doctor-Yes-oh, Jesus- Yes-yes!” you were yelling.

His thrusts were wilder. Faster. He grunted and groaned, eyes down on you. Here was the passionate man the women raved about. The desk next to the bed was shifting around with how deeply, quickly, and powerfully he was fucking you. And the bed itself was denting against the wall.

Something was bubbling inside you. Building up. He was cursing, then crying out your name. Something was building in you. Like you were going to break if you let it grow. Like you would die. But you wanted to. at the sound as he slammed you, hips slamming into yours as he kept up the fast rhythm. All as he looked you in the eye and you in his eyes. Then he put a finger in your slit and curled it on your nub.

The pleasure was rising. More moans came out of you. Not quiet ones. Bubbling up wilder as he stroked you there. About to spin out of control. You weren’t going to last.

“D-Doctor- I think I’m- I think I’m going to-“

“Cum-darling-cum, cum with me!” He was yelling as well, meeting your volume.

It built higher, higher, until-

You let out a last, loud cry.

The spinning pleasure snapped in you. You took in a slight gasp as the shockwaves of your peak. You felt him give a last shout of your name as he came too. He was pulsing inside you, and you felt yourself shake, an ache in your own pussy and legs. The record had stopped playing and there was only the white noise of the vents above you. The heat had come back on. Not that you or Robert needed it.

You fell together, feeling the eclipse of your shared high. You saw the ceiling spin above you. Slowly arriving back to. The apartment reeked of sex, of your bodies, of sweat, and the heat of passion. He pulled out of you; you could hear his own quick breaths. Trying to catch his own. Your entire body was heavy from your climax, craving sleep.

“Are you okay?” he asked, touching a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m…I’m tired…tired and wonderful,” you replied.

He smiled.

“I’m glad then…” he said.

You nestled close and wrapped an arm around him. Good night, you couldn’t have asked for a better hour.

“Robert, Thank you. I’m glad it was with you…” you complimented.

“So, I take that you liked it?” he quipped.

“I loved it- Doctor,” you answered with a giggle.

As you nestled closer to him, he laughed back with you. The laughter made his body under your arms jilt up and down. The sound rumbled and echoed through your skin. There was something pure about it. Sweet.

He let go. But it felt too soon. You wanted to hold him for longer. Cuddle him. Kiss him on the cheek and forehead. Call him every pet name under the sun. You leaned on your side and traced the outline of his cheek down to his shoulder. He blinked and watched your hands, unused to the intimacy. Then he shifted closer to lay on his side parallel to you. You wrapped your arms around each other.

“Can I stay?” you proposed.

His eyes went wide. His jaw went slack. Then he nodded.

“Yes- Y/n, please! I never had anyone stay over the night…” he confessed.

Your eyebrows shut up.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped.

Comparing you to his ex-lovers on a first date wasn’t a wise choice for a man. But there was a sadness in his voice. It made you halt. It made you listen.

“They’d take me. And then they’d leave. Not say a word when I passed them at the store. Like I was no different than their plumber…”

You traced a finger over his bare chest. Drawing figures as he beamed down at you.

“Then I’ll stay…but I might need my toothbrush tomorrow. My breath will stink if you kiss me in the morning,” you reminded him.

“I’ll brave it then,” he responded.

He leaned in to kiss you. Both of you settled in closer. Never letting go of the other. Discussing everything. Discussing nothing. Your exhaustion from your orgasm won over and you both melted into a peaceful sleep, there in room 2505.

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