Thursday, December 2, 2010

THE KIDS ARE IN BED. IT'S QUIET. I HAVE PLENTY OF TIME. SO HERE IT IS.



The so-called "physical check-up" was the start of it. That was over a week ago. I've just been going through the motions since, barely doing my motherly duties. At the start of the physical, everything seemed routine. In the examination room, where the table with the stirrups gapes at you, the nurse asked for a urine sample, took a chest X-ray, and a blood sample (no trouble finding the vein in my arm). She gave me one of those stupid gowns that fasten in the back, a cotton robe to put over that, and left me sitting on a hard chair. Jason came in in a few minutes. (I was getting cold waiting.) He calmly told me what he was going to do. Very professional. Check my eyes, ears, nose, and throat, listen to my heart, lungs, and carotid arteries, palpate my abdomen, give me a rectal, and examine my breasts and genitals. Routine, right? He was cool about everything. When he came to my breasts, he left the front of the gown over them, using his hands underneath the cloth. He probed for lumps, fingered the nipples lightly, nothing out of the ordinary, but he took too long-- or, I should say, longer than any other doctor ever had. When he came to the genital exam, my legs were in the stirrups with my gown up and a sheet over my front so I couldn't really see. Even though I had bathed before I went, I felt my usual humiliation, but didn't say anything. The nurse was there but seemed preoccupied with other things. Jason told me what he was doing as he did it, "I'm using the speculum to view. Now I'm taking a pap smear." To me, a tongue depressor in my nether mouth. Same sensation.


"I'm palpating." Pressure under and over my pubes.


"Checking the labia-- fine. The clitoris (something touched it and I twitched). Any pain?" he asked.


"Not at all," I told him. I was getting antsy. Something touched it again; I twitched again.


"Sorry, did that hurt?"


"Not at all."


"How did it feel?"


"Like my clitoris was being stimulated," I told him, laughing self-consciously.


"All right, now I'm going to do the rectal; there could be a bit of discomfort."


As is usual with me, there was no discomfort. He apologized anyway. I kept quiet. He had obviously savored the whole exam, particularly while he was doing my cunt and ass-hole. But there really wasn't anything substantive, was there? I actually enjoyed the care he took. He told me, "Get dressed and we'll go over the findings. You may have a slight discharge from your vagina."


He handed me a pad to slip into my panties.


God, dear, I am tired of writing all this. It all seems so clinical and boring, but I wanted you to know. At our little confab he told me about the iron deficiency. For the rest, he wanted to see the test results. I nodded, relieved. He continued, very informally, "The other day I said you had beautiful legs. Now I can say you're beautiful all over."


I laughed and thanked him. He went on, "I also enjoyed the chat we had that evening."


"I did too," I acknowledged. I guess he meant about the wife-swapping.


I have to tell you that instead of thinking about you and us, as I should have been, I found myself thinking about him. The test results came two days later. He called, saying he didn't want to discuss the results over the ‘phone, although they were routine. Could he drop by during his housecalls that evening? I agreed. I can admit to you that I saw the potential for disaster here.


He didn't arrive until almost eleven o'clock. I had decided he wasn't coming and was wearing my robe and mules. When he arrived, I took him into the kitchen. I was leery of the neighbors watching through the front windows. He put my file on the table along with a box about the size of a box of chocolate mints. I thought it was candy. I sat down at the table beside him. It took him only a minute or so to show me my tests were OK. I offered him some cookies and milk. He accepted. While I was standing at the counter, pouring the milk and arranging the cookies on a plate, he came up behind me, slipped his arms under mine, cupped my breasts with his hands, and pushed his body against my back, pressing his hard-on against my fanny.

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