The Horny Hygienist

by

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Cheating, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Doctor/Nurse, .

Desc: Sex Story: I have always had a thing for dental hygienists. They generally tend to be young, attractive women, and I have spent a lot of time in dental chairs fantasizing about whatever young thing happened to be probing my mouth that day. But then I met Molly, and I didn't need to fantasize any more. She was the real deal



I pulled into one of the parking places under the "Reserved For Patients of Dr. Peterson." sign. In the first two years I had been coming to Dr. P, I had grown to hate that sign. It was like some ancient script over the entrance to a torture chamber, "Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here", or something just as dire. Malcolm Peterson was the periodontist that I had finally turned to after years of unsuccessfully trying to cope with gum disease that I had hoped would go away by itself. After two surgeries, and the long, painful recoveries that followed, Dr. Peterson still requested that I come back every three months for cleanings and checkups. And trust me, perio cleanings aren't exactly a walk in the park with the Queen.

But a year ago, my attitude toward these appointments changed. That was when Dr. Peterson hired Molly McKay, and she began doing my cleanings. The forty-five minutes of water blasting, grating, and picking was still uncomfortable, no matter who was performing it, but Molly managed to make my visits a lot more appealing, through her unique personality and unusual reward system.


I found myself attracted to her the first time we met. OK, I admit it, I have a strange kind of fetish, and often find hygienists interesting. It seems like they are all young, self-confident, and usually attractive, women. Maybe it's a job requirement or something. Whatever, it works for me. That fact led to a trick I use to get through unpleasant times in a dental chair. I close my eyes and imagine erotic fantasies centered around whatever young lady was currently removing my plaque, or assisting the dentist. Sick? Maybe, but it does make the time go faster and takes my mind off what is happening in my mouth. Of course, there have been a couple of times when I almost embarrassed myself with inadvertent erections.

And Molly more than qualifies for a starring role in my dental fantasies. She has a round, friendly face, nicely framed by short-cropped brown hair. There seems to be a little bit of devil in her deep-dimpled grin, and she has a wicked sense of humor to go with it. She likes to talk while she works, and I had learned a lot about her by just lying in the chair listening. She quickly, and openly, brought me up to date on her personal life. She had been married for four years, her husband sold advertising for a radio station, and they didn't have any kids. She also likes to tell jokes. When she found that I didn't seem to mind if some of her stories were a little racy, she soon moved on to some that were downright dirty. There is something extra spicy about having a cute young girl tell you a dirty joke and I began paying more attention to what she was saying than drifting away into my usual fantasies.

After my first two appointments, she had begun to feel comfortable enough with me that she began telling me details about her sex life. I have had some talkative hygienists before, but never one that discussed so candidly what her favorite positions were or how many orgasms she had achieved the previous night. It didn't take me long to come to the conclusion that Molly's husband was a very lucky man.

It was almost like she knew that when I closed my eyes and opened my mouth, dirty movies often began projecting themselves on the backs of my eyelids. She seemed to be fueling my lustful thoughts with her confessions, and her actions as well. She was not shy about letting her body rub against me while she worked. It seemed like she deliberately let her breasts bump against my arm or face when she reached across to get another torture device from her tray. And I could have sworn that there were times when she rubbed her pubes against my elbow, and not by accident. She didn't move away like you would expect if it had been accidental contact. It seemed to me that she enjoyed the feeling of rubbing herself against me. I wasn't sure if I was reading more into her sexy talk and 'inadvertent' touchings than she meant, but it certainly fueled my fantasies to think that somehow I had been lucky enough to have stumbled upon a very horny hygienist. It was a little hard for me to tell exactly what was under her baggy scrubs, but the fullness of her face hinted that she was maybe a little chubby, in a pleasing, full-figured way. I became somewhat fixated on wondering what her breasts looked like under her uniform...

Any doubts I might have had about her intent were cleared up during my fourth visit with Molly. It had been a particularly rough one. She had stopped several times to make sure I was OK. Each time, I gave her a nod, and a thumbs up. When she finished, and I waited for her usual "you're doing fine, but keep at it" lecture, she paused and said, "The first dentist I worked for specialized in child dentistry. That was fun, because we always got to give the kids a treat when they left, and we made a big deal out of how brave they had been. I kind of miss that. I know that what I do to my patients doesn't feel good, and when I get somebody like you who doesn't complain or bitch, and always has a positive attitude, it makes me feel better about what I'm doing. I feel like I want to give patients like you some kind of reward too."

"Well, can you make balloon animals?" I suggested.

"No, but maybe I can think of something that you would enjoy, something more age appropriate." Molly smiled, and looked very much like a naughty young girl getting ready to do something that she knows will get her in trouble but doesn't care. She walked over and closed the door. When she locked it also, I began to get a little suspicious. She came back and stood next to the chair. "Do you like aggressive women, Mark?"

I found myself momentarily tongue-tied, and while she waited for me to answer I felt her hand in my lap. I don't mean it fell there by accident, she was rubbing her hand over my cock in a very deliberate, suggestive way. If I had any doubt about her intentions, they went away when she began unzipping my pants.

"Molly, what are you doing?"

"Oh, Mr. Rogers," she cooed, "I think you know just what I have in mind. But I guess, to be polite I should ask, do you mind?"

"Uh, no, I guess not."

By now she had my zipper down and her hand was fishing around in my underwear. I was a little embarrassed by what she found there. I'm in my mid-fifties, and sometimes it takes a while longer for my body to react to things like that than it did when I was in my teens. What I'm trying to say is that even though I had a cute, sexy young woman attempting to stimulate me, my dick was still as limp as a Dali clock.

But that didn't seem to deter Molly. She opened the top button on my jeans to give herself more room to work, and began to bring my manhood to life. She started by just holding me in her warm hands, and lightly tickling the delicate skin around the head with her fingernails. I felt myself gradually responding to her gentle touch. Once she felt my cock beginning to swell, she starting working in earnest, alternating long strokes with both hands. If she had just been playing before, there was no doubt now that I was getting a very experienced hand job, and like one of her cleanings, Molly wasn't going to stop until the job was done.

"I just love the feel of a man's cock getting hard in my hands," she sighed. "It's an amazing experience. I remember back in high school, my boy friends were usually hard by the time we finished our first kiss, but I think I actually prefer starting with a soft dick and making it get hard. It's so rewarding, don't you think?"

I didn't try to answer that one. By now my cock was diamond hard, and that seemed to be a fitting reply to her comment. Just when I was beginning to really enjoy her talented stroking, there was a knock on the door.

"Molly," a woman's voice sounded, "are you about done in there? Mr. Dickens is here for his 11:00."

Molly never missed a stroke. "About five more minutes, Michelle. I'm just cleaning up." There wasn't anything to clean up yet, but it felt like it wouldn't be long. Her estimate of five minutes sounded pretty good to me.

She turned and grabbed a bottle of hand lotion from the counter behind her. She squirted a few dollops onto her palms and resumed her stroking. That was the magic touch; it wasn't long before the sensation of her slick palms and fingers moving rapidly up and down my now proudly erect shaft began to bring me close to a climax. I could feel that wonderful tightness beginning to build in my groin, and I knew this was going to be a good one. Apparently Molly felt it too.

"I usually don't do this on the first date," she giggled, "but it makes cleaning up easy, and besides, I really like you, Mark."

I wasn't sure what she was talking about until I saw her head descend toward my lap. She wrapped her lips around the head of my cock, and began a gentle sucking. It wasn't really a blow job, she was still working my cock with both hands, but she kept her lips tightly sealed around the head of my cock. When I felt my balls emptying a few seconds later, she sucked up all of my ejaculate, leaving me, and my clothes, clean and ready to go. I appreciated her thoughtfulness.

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