Getting Wet During a Medical Exam

G

I sat in the new doctor’s office, waiting patiently in the tepid room, wearing nothing but the paper gown the nurse gave me. It was rough against soft skin, more so as the goosebumps raised. Don’t they know naked women sit in these offices? Jeeze…

As I’m rereading a poster about heart disease for the third time, I hear a tentative rap on the door.

“I’m decent!” I chirp

The doctor came in and I suddenly felt underdressed. He was middle-aged but tan, square-shouldered, and confident. He welcomed himself in with a dazzling smile and some eye contact that made me feel both important and transparent. As he introduced himself and went over the details of my visit, I tuned him out, watching his lips move over his teeth before dropping my gaze to his hands, veiny and well worked (did he do work outside of the office?) and notably adorned with a gleaming golden band.

My shoulders dropped in disappointment and my ears finally tuned in, “…so I think what would be best is if we do a general exam first and schedule a follow up with a specialist. Does that sound like a plan to you?”

My doe eyes went wide as I searched to remember the things I never heard. I smiled wide and nodded approvingly. He seemed smart, so I trusted his judgment.

“Okay, then first we’ll want to do a breast exam since we don’t have one on file for you. Could you lay back on the table, with your arm above your head,” he posed his own arm above his head, “just like this for me? You can remove the top half of your gown.”

I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks and tingling my skin as I dropped the top half of the paper dress to reveal my perky double-D tits, with my cute, little pink nipples slightly hardened by the chilly room. The doctor maintained a polite smile, obviously trying to look anywhere but directly at them. I leaned back and put my arm up, resting my head on my forearm and arching the small of my back slightly.

He was telling me, step-by-step what he was feeling for and why, but I wasn’t listening again. “Oh, he’s left-handed,” I thought to myself as he started examining me. His hand was warm and his fingers felt like they were tracing fire across my flesh, raising goosebumps as they went. He started in my armpit and I was glad I had thought to shave, lotion, and shower before my appointment. He worked his fingertips lightly at first, building pressure as he massaged through the tissue, working down my arm to my breast.

While his 3-finger approach was clinical as he moved around my soft breast, but with every sudden movement of his hand, his icy ring kissed my skin, sending a wave of goosebumps. I was blushing, unsure if he even noticed my nipples getting harder as he investigated.

He cleared his throat before striding around the table to examine the other side. This time, he was a little… less clinical with his technique. I noticed that as he was working his way down my left side, he had forgone the clinical 3-finger technique in favor of a gentler, more casual touch with all of his fingers. Did he realize what he was doing? Could he hear what I was thinking? I died a small death at the thought. He focused on a spot on the underside of my tit, pressing more firmly. I glanced up bravely to see his curious and unsure expression. Before I could ponder what it meant, his whole hand firmly grasped my tit, relieving pressure for a moment only to grasp me again more firmly. I let out a small gasp at the gesture as I felt my cunt get hot. It was only a moment, but a million thoughts rushed through my head and the vibrations of those thoughts shot through my body. I could feel my pussy getting wet enough that I could feel it on my lips. I lamented not having panties on to help me soak up the mess.

The moment lasted a year, but when he relaxed his grip, his furrowed brow shot up and he shrugged casually, “Thought I felt something for a second, but it’s all healthy tissue! Sorry if I worried you there,” he smiled at me.

“Oh, no! Not at all,” I stammered out.

“Well then,” he said with a charming smile, “Why don’t we start the vaginal exam?”

He pulled the stirrups out of the table and I felt the blood leave my face entirely. I knew he would see the mess I was making and was still making. I cursed my body silently, with wide eyes as I got wetter with the fear of him seeing me and knowing. The room was suddenly sweltering. I sheepishly put one foot up in the cold, metal stirrup after the other and looked up at the doctor, mortified.

He plopped down into his rolling chair and swiveled between my calves, “Um,” he coaxed, “I will need you to scoot to the end of the table.” His smile dazzled me still and I hated my body for the surge and subsequent gush I felt.

When I picked my ass up, I realized the paper on the table was stuck to me and I quickly swatted it back down before begrudgingly exposing myself to him. I stared at the ceiling, hiding behind my knees so he couldn’t see my face.

It was silent in the room.

“Oh,” the confident doctor faltered, after what felt like an eternity.

I peeked down and was only able to see his eyebrows, reaching up to his hairline in shock before furrowing in thought. My mind raced. Does he think I’m desperate? Does he think this is hot? He’s married, he wouldn’t. But what if he did? I held my breath waiting for an indicator of anything.

Suddenly, I felt his gloved finger gently work between my pussy lips, parting them, before using a second finger to spread my little pink pussy open before him. I could hear my own wetness from that small gesture.

“You seem a little… excited,” he accused with an air of amusement, glancing up over my knees at me, “I hope I wasn’t too aggressive in your examination.”

My face went red with his tease. “So?” I spat out, flustered, humiliated, and unable to defend myself, “I thought you were a professional, Doctor. And you’re married. I was expecting a professional examination.”

I crossed my arms and turned my head to study at the heart disease poster again but I didn’t close my legs or sit up. My doctor chuckled to himself quietly before standing up between my legs and leaning over me.

“Is that what you really want?”

I turned my head like a shot. His eyes burned into me with kindness and amusement, but with a certain intensity behind it. Something told me that, if I insisted, he would probably shrug his shoulders and respect my wishes. Something else told me that I didn’t want him to.

I softened the cross of my arms and I felt my lower lip drop into a pout. That was apparently the only signal he needed, as he immediately brought his gloved hand back to my juicy pussy lips while keeping his eyes locked on mine. My cunt was melting into a wet mess in his hand and he teased my clit with his thumb. His thumb moved in slow, gentle circles at first, build pressure gradually as he went. His ungloved hand caressed up and down my bare thigh while he kept smoldered through me with his eyes. It was impossible to look anywhere else. He was being too tentative with his touch, so I pushed my hips into his hand, forcing him to press harder onto my clit. I could feel my eyebrows knitting together and my lips quivering over words I couldn’t formulate. I felt helpless, and in the best possible way.

With vigor, he ripped my gown off of me and let the paper fall to the floor unceremoniously. He dropped to his knees and started French kissing my pussy; first, his tongue worked to clean the juice on my lips before exploring the lines of my labia, slurping and kissing. I dared to wonder if he ate his wife’s pussy like this. His 5 o’clock shadow tickled my freshly shaven lips, flooding my body with those damn goosebumps again. I sat up the smallest bit to get a view of him working diligently, spitting and licking up my pussy like an eager puppy. Suddenly, he focused the very tip of his tongue on my clit, touching it so lightly I almost wanted to interrupt and redirect him, but just as I was getting impatient enough to beg, he slurped my clit into his mouth.

Electricity shot through me and my hips bucked against him. One hand firmly planted itself where my hip met my thigh and held me onto the table while his gloved hand finally plunged into my dripping cunt. He curled his fingers and massaged my g-spot rhythmically while continuing to suck up my clit and spit it back out. I didn’t know what to do with my hands anymore and desperately clung to anything that might hold me down to Earth. I grabbed a fistful of my hair and grasped tightly onto the forearm that gripped my leg, not able to stop the small, desperate whimper that escaped my lips.

“Please,” I quietly begged.

“I’m cumming,” I barely voiced through a silent cry.

He ignored me and worked even more feverishly than before. My body locked up suddenly and violently as wave after wave of heat and pleasure cascaded over me, drowning me in it. I seized and bucked against him and it only seemed to encourage him. Greedily, he slurped up the juice dripping out of my cunt, working my tight pussy feverishly as it spasmed around him. My legs and core grew weak from trying to jerk against him and instead started twitching with every slurp and suck. My vision was blurry and tears fell down my face, unbeknownst to me and completely out of my control. I tried to pick my head up, but it made the room spin.

Finally, he decided I had had enough and pulled his face back to wipe my juices from his scruff with a self-satisfied look on his smug face. I decided then that there was no way he ate his wife’s pussy like that or she’d never let him leave the house. I know I wouldn’t.

“Well,” I breathed heavily and giggled, “If I had a case of hysteria, you definitely cured it”

He chuckled back warmly, “Oh? I think I’m starting to feel a little hysterical myself…”

He mumbled the line while pressing his hard cock into my thigh through his slacks, gripping my thighs with his hands, his gloved fingers leaving a wet trail on my leg. Gingerly and with a smirk, I tapped his wedding band with my nail, “And how would the missus feel about having your load stolen from her?”

I felt him throb against me at the sinful temptation. “Fuck her,” he said with a debonair smirk, “with a body like this, you can take whatever you fucking want.”

“I could say the same to you, Doctor,” I dared.

He bent over to lie on top of me so he could reach my mouth and finally kiss me. My nectar was sweet on his lips and when I licked them to get a taste, he responded in kind by working his tongue into my mouth. His breath was quivering like my legs were, hungry and wanting more. I loved the way he took control, grabbing a fistful of my hair to gently angle my face against his so he could work his tongue deeper before pulling his mouth away from mine to trace my jawline with his lips. Then he worked his way to my ear first so I could feel his hot breath against it before nibbling on my lobe. Chills made my neck hair stand on end and sent waved through my body.

“I need you,” he breathed heavily into my ear, “I need your body. I need to feel you.”

With the click of every consonant and the noise of his tongue meeting and parting from the roof of his mouth filled my ear and thrilled me. I reached down to feel his hard cock pressing against his pants but could barely touch it with my fingertips. I was frustrated I couldn’t reach and made a small, desperate grunt. Excitedly, but without pausing his exploration of my collarbone with his lips and tongue, he reached down to unzip his slacks and pull his cock out and lay it on my gushy cunt.

It was seven inches and girthy; definitely, a little more than I knew I could take. He worked his mouth down to my tits while lubing his bare cock up on my wet cunt. “God, your tits are so fucking perfect,” he mumbled into them before standing up to declare, “And your pussy is so un-fucking-believably wet!”

He lubed his cock up on my pussy lips while looking down at the wet mess with a look that said he knew this was the wettest, tightest pussy he had played with in a while and that he was worried he wasn’t going to savor it properly. A look comprised of desperation and lamentation.

Pressing the head of his now-throbbing cock against my cunt, he made sure to apply only enough pressure to threaten to slip inside before sliding up between my pussy lips, soaking his balls by pressing them against my dripping hole. He did this again and again before stopping to rub the head of his cock on my sensitive clit. My legs twitched immediately at the bolt of energy that shot through my body.

“Please,” I whined.

“Please, what?” He asked, pausing with a self-satisfied look on his face. His cock was poised over my hole again, pressing tenderly. He knew he was teasing me. He knew how badly I wanted him. He probably knew it from the moment he walked into the room and was just so in control, he knew how to make me beg him for it. I had never been played like this, so efficiently, and with this level of mastery. I prided myself in spotting a fuck-boy my age from a mile away, fucking him, and then leaving him asking me why I never called him. This wasn’t something I knew how to maneuver through. I suddenly felt like a toy to be manipulated in his hands. I felt lost. I felt like I had no control.

I loved it.

“Please fuck me,” I finally begged, locking eyes with him sheepishly, “Please, I fucking need it.”

With that, he was satisfied. In one movement, he slipped his fat cock into my tight little cunt. He was thicker than anything I had taken before and my pussy stretched painfully around him, but I was so wet that he slipped in effortlessly; until his ball rested on my little asshole. He folded over me at my involuntary squeak and whimper, putting his forehead on mine, holding completely still.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispered onto my face, “You feel amazing, it’s like you’re choking my cock.”

“Please?” I whispered back.

With that, he started thrusting in and out of me, slowly and tenderly while my pussy adjusted to his thickness. I was so full, it felt like the bones in my pelvis were being pushed out of the way. I could barely take it. It felt like my cunt was going to give way and tear at any moment. Every time the head of his cock worked it’s way slowly in and out of my cunt, the noise reminded us of just how gushy he had made me. He had to stand up again.

“Fuck,” he moaned, “You are so much hotter than my wife. This has to be the tightest pussy I have ever fucked.”

Slowly, my cunt was opening up for him and each stroke hurt less and felt better than the last. I had never been stretched like this before. If he were a half-centimeter thicker, I don’t know If I could have fit him into me. His cock filled me completely, hitting all the right spots. He worked up his speed and stopped stoking gingerly and was now slamming his cock home into my stretched cunt. He was fucking me hard enough that my plump tits were bouncing in my face.

“Tell me,” I whined when I could catch my breath, “Tell me you’re going to think of fucking me the next time you fuck her.”

He faltered in his rhythm for a moment before processing what I said and picking up speed, “Fuck yes. I’m going to imagine it’s you fucking me, instead of her. It’ll be hard though, she’s never this wet for me,” He said slamming his cock a little harder into me for emphasis, “I haven’t fucked pussy this young and tight since I was in college.”

I could feel the energy welling up in me again. With every stroke, butterflies were added to the swarm in my stomach, “Oh fuck, I’m going to cum again,” I whimpered.

“Not yet,” he smiled.

Without warning, he lifted my hips a few inches off the table and pushed me further back, so my head was actually on the headrest. He crawled up on the table with me, sitting on his knees and pulling my hips into his lap. I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, pulling him back into me.

He started working his cock into me deeply so that my clit was grinding on his trimmed bush. We worked our hips against each other, each stroke bringing us closer. He rested his forehead on mine again and our breath, sweat, and moans mixed in a wet heat between us. I couldn’t take another inch of cock if he had it, but I wanted him even deeper. I wanted more. I held a fistful of his salt-and-pepper hair while I pressed his face into mine. I craved more of him and grinded into him for it.

“Shit,” I stifled my shout, “I can’t- I-“

It was all I could get out before I was submerged in ecstasy, drowning in every wave of it. My head jerked back involuntarily so all I could see was the plain white wall behind me, and I felt his heavy breath on my throat while I soaked his cock in my cum. He wouldn’t stop, still pounding me feverishly while my cunt spasmed and gripped him tightly.

I heard and felt his breath hitch before grunts came out that he couldn’t stifle.

“WAIT, I’m not-“ I started, but I could already feel his married cock pumping every last drop of his load into me before he collapsed, burying his face into my plump tits, “on birth… control.”

The doctor regained his charming smile, sat up, and pulled his cock out of me; his sticky cum dripping onto the table.

“Well! I’m sure there’s something I can prescribe to help fix that,” he winked, putting himself back together.

“I don’t know, Doc… If you’re prescribing a new medication, I think I should set up a follow-up appointment,” I teased.

“You know, if you want to see me again, you don’t have to keep making appointments,” he laughed.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with the missus,” I teased again, still completely naked on the exam table, “And it’s not like she can get worked up about you seeing a patient regularly, during office hours, right? I promise to be your very best patient.”

“Something tells me you’re going to be my very favorite patient,” he said pleasantly, both to me and himself.

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Wannabe Coala

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