Sneaky Checkup

Daisy perches on the exam table, thighs pressing together. Margaret sits close, one eyebrow raised in warning. "Behave," she murmurs, but her knuckles brush the inside of Daisy’s knee. Daisy only smiles, heat already curling low in her belly. The door opens and Dr. Q walks in, clipboard in hand, oblivious to the charge in the air. She snaps on gloves, asks Daisy to lie back, and begins the routine checks—pulse, temperature, the cold press of the stethoscope over her breasts. While the doctor listens, Daisy parts her legs just enough for Margaret’s hand to slip beneath the thin paper gown. Two slick fingers find her, circle, press in. Daisy bites her lip to stay quiet, hips rocking in tiny, hidden thrusts. Margaret works her open right there, thumb flicking her clit in time with the doctor’s questions. The exam drags on, Dr. Q never noticing the subtle flex of Margaret’s wrist or the flush rising up Daisy’s throat. Finally, the doctor strips off her gloves and declares everything fine. The door clicks shut behind her. Margaret yanks the gown away, pushes Daisy flat, and sinks two fingers deep again, this time without mercy. Daisy gasps, legs spread wide, cunt greedy for every thrust. Margaret adds a third, curls them hard against her front wall while her thumb works tight circles over Daisy’s swollen clit. Daisy comes with a broken moan, back arched, the paper beneath her tearing under her grip. Margaret keeps stroking her through it, drawing every last tremor until Daisy lies boneless and glistening under the harsh exam lights.