Gynecological exams always made me very nervous. There was always that element
of vulnerability that seemed almost overwhelming. A few times it was even enough
to make me skip my annual pap smear. I think most women have the same feeling
prior to an appointment. You can be the sexiest, horniest, and most desirous
creature on the planet and there is still something very unnerving about getting
on an exam table without any clothes on, throwing a sheet over yourself, and
hiking your heels into stirrups so some stranger with cold, gloved hands can
stick his fingers up inside you while you just lay there and pretend to be so
very interested in the strange little designs in the ceiling. I had been trying
to prepare myself for this encounter once again. I nearly skipped it to be quite
honest. I took a very hot shower prior to my exam; scrubbing myself to a literal
squeaky clean, clipping my pubic hairs down short across my mound and shaving
smoothly from my clitoris down on both sides of my labia. I stood for a time in
front of the floor length mirror looking at my body after I had put on deodorant
and brushed my hair and teeth, admiring my body a little and trying to develop
some semblance of self-esteem as even the thought of an exam made me feel
intruded upon and foreign unto myself. I went to my appointment with much
concealed distress, worrying about little things, natural responses that I had
no control over, like the fact that my nipples draw up and get hard in little
points when I am naked in a cool room and they are touched, like the fact that
the slightest pressure to my love box makes me raise my hips without thinking
twice about it, natural responses that I didn't want a doctor to see, but had no
regulation of. I walked into the room where I was to be examined and took off my
clothes, trying to bide time by folding everything too neatly and putting them
in a stack by my purse and coat on a chair. I unfolded the sheet that was to
cover me thinking, "These things never seem to be big enough." I sat down and
waited for the doctor with much nervousness. When he came in he was dressed
casually save a white coat thrown over his button down shirt. He smiled at me
(like doctors always do) and sat down, casually looking through my records and
then said, "Okay, let's get this over with as fast as we can because I know you
want out of here." And I smiled in agreement whole heartedly and then smiled a
bit more at his smile that was genuine, seeing that he did understand how women
felt about exams. I laid down, being sure to pull the sheet up to my neck nearly
as he approached me from one side. He lifted the sheet off of my right breast
and placed one hand over the top of it and the other to circle gently in a
crescent, cupping the underside of my soft flesh. I caught his eyes briefly and
then looked away, the look that was on his face was a most serious one as he
checked for any lumps, gently massaging and kneading my breast, searching in a
circular fashion towards the nipple, and as always it hardened. He rolled his
thumb and forefinger from the outer sides of my breast towards the nipple until
milk appeared, glistening upon my rose colored peak. I was nearly embarrassed,
though this was totally natural given the fact that I had had a baby not long
ago and was still nursing. He reached for a tissue and dabbed at the milk and
then pulled the sheet back up to cover my breast as he leaned over me a bit and
pulled the sheet away from my other breast. I felt his coat tickle at my side as
he leaned in to examine my left breast. The tickling caused me to arch my back
in an effort to pull away from the sensation, which neatly pushed the flesh of
my soft mound into his hands as he reached for it, a dance of movements, cause
and effect, that couldn't have been choreographed any smoother. He turned and
smiled at me oddly, and I could only look away with a blush on my cheeks like a
school girl. He kneaded this breast in the same manner and as he squeezed a bit
of milk from the nipple, instead of dabbing it away he began telling me how I
could prevent nipple irritation if after each nursing I left milk on the nipple
to air dry as he traced the drops of milk around the hard, tight peak. I said,
"Really? Hmm." He squeezed a bit more milk from my breast, which triggered the
milk to let down this time. "I think while he have the milk flowing, we'll go
ahead and run some tests to make sure your baby is getting everything he needs
and nothing that he doesn't." He said. I kind of half shrugged approval and then
said, "But the milk won't let down for a breast pump, I've tried them before."
"We'll just have to express by hand then won't we." He said, which was a
statement, not a question. With that he retrieved a sterile container and handed
it to me, motioning for me to sit up. I took the container and sat up, the sheet
falling loosely across my lap, showing the tops of my hips and hints of the
short cropped hair of my box. I had expressed in front of people before, so I
really thought nothing of it until after some long minutes of manipulating one
breast and then the other without so much as a single drop of milk to prove it
in the container. "Hmm," he said, "Let's see if I can show you a more effective
way of expressing yourself." His words rang twice in my mind, the two or more
ways that I could take the statement. He bid me to sit in a chair. I gathered my
sheet up one handed and rather clumsily as I got down and moved to the chair
still holding the container. "Now," he said as he pulled his stool up behind my
chair, "Watch how I do this and with luck it will work for you." He cut off the
overhead lights of the room so that the only light was from the exam light
pointed at the corner and rolling his stool up close to my back he reached
around me, as if to embrace me, save for the back of my chair, and showed me
exactly where he wanted me to hold the container with one hand, as he extended
his other to softly massage my full and hardened breast, explaining how I needed
to be totally relaxed. I held the container as he drew his right hand away and
began massaging the muscles in my neck and telling me that relaxed didn't mean
slouching, that I needed to sit up straight while I expressed. My breasts were
becoming engorged with the firm, gentle strokes of his fingers across them as he
worked from the outside in towards the nipple, making it harden even more to the
point that it stung a bit. My breasts felt heavy and my slit was getting wet
from the delicate touches. He dropped his right hand from my neck and traced his
fingers down to my other breast and began pinching the nipple, making it harden
like the other. Milk began to drip slowly from my left breast, I could hear the
tiny drops hitting the inside of the container. The slight sound seemed to echo
loudly in my head with my heart beat as I wondered if he knew my slit was
wetting itself. His kneading and stroking turned slowly into easy motions that
made the milk spray into the container, the first few showers of it made me
relax in the chair and drop my head backwards against his right shoulder. The
feeling was erotic and very sexual to me as he brought my milk out. He guided my
hand to move the container to the other breast as he slowly moved my head onto
his other shoulder as he shifted his position a bit and began expressing milk
from my right breast. I wanted the feeling to last forever and most of all I
felt an urge to reach down and stroke my warm and wet slit as my juices were
flowing and wetting my thighs, which up to this point, I had managed to keep
clamped together. Distantly I heard him say, "That should be more than enough
for the tests." And he took the container from me and placed it on the desk
which housed the prescription pads and K-Y Jelly and examination gloves as well
as a variety of other gynecological paraphernalia. "Please get back on the table
now." These words rang in my head like a gong as I snapped back to reality and
fear crept in with its clever stealth. I pulled my sheet back up about me and
got back on the table. He pulled out the stirrups that medical supply designers
try so hard to cleverly hide, but every woman that has to have an exam knows
where they are, and hiding them doesn't make it any better. I slid down the
table and raised my feet into the stirrups without being told. I heard the snaps
of latex as he fit the gloves onto his hands around his wrists. I didn't have to
see it to know exactly what he was doing. The light shifted in the room as he
pulled the bright exam lamp down between my legs, its glare blocked somewhat by
my sheet as it lay haplessly across my legs, my own private curtain, as I began
to stare at the ceiling and noticing a mirror there. His voice seemed distant to
me as he began to explain that he was going to examine the outside first,
inspect if you will, with the bright lamp heating me there. My private curtain
was pulled aside as he lifted the sheet over my knees and let it fall to lay
across my lower stomach so that I could see him. "I find it easier," he said,
"If I have a mirror set up so that patients can see what I am doing." And with
that he briskly stood up and tilted the circular mirror that was suspended from
the ceiling so that I could see my most private parts from my supine position
with his hands so close. My juices were still flowing steadily across my slit as
he first touched me. He placed his fingers on each side of my clit and stroked
downward, opening my outer lips and pulling them to the sides. I was blushing
again, I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I felt one of his fingers flicker on
the hood of my bud, nearly probing it as I felt the hood slide back just a bit,
my bud trying to blossom out, on its own accord. It was tingling immensely while
he touched my inner lips, spreading them open as well. I could feel the heat
from the lamp warming the opening of my pink tunnel even more as he reached for
the K-Y jelly and opened it with expertise, one handed, and squeezed a generous
amount onto the first two fingers of his right hand. "This will probably be a
bit cold." He said as he slipped the first, then the second finger into my hot
tunnel. I felt the muscles clench down on his fingers as he slid them in deeper
until I could feel the first knuckles at his hand against my body. He probed a
bit and I flinched when he first touched my sensitive cervix. I could feel him
running his fingers around it as he talked about how the cervix usually goes
back into normal shape very quickly after childbirth and telling me that mine
felt perfectly fine. He moved his other hand to push down on my ovaries so that
he could feel them from within and then as he felt the size and shape of my
womb. His fingers stroked within me and I fought the natural reaction of raising
my hips effectively until his fingers came upon my G-spot and then they raised
and nearly thrust down on his fingers. The heat rose in my cheeks even more.
Slowly, stroking and caressing all the while, he withdrew his fingers until only
the tips were within me and then he laid his hand nearly flat against my pussy
and rubbed the K-Y across its entirety. My clit tingled even more and began to
throb in excitement and the blood flowed into my sex and made my lips swell. He
rolled back on his chair and reached again to the paraphernalia on the table, I
saw him lift a cloth and my eyes beheld that most incorrigible and graceless
instrument known to womankind, the ever-cold speculum. And with that sight I
promptly closed my thighs together as much as the stirrups would allow and
looked again at the ceiling instead of the mirror. He rolled himself back
between my legs and said, "Now now, none of that." As he placed the speculum on
the examine table and reached up, using his wrists to pry and guide my thighs
open. I resisted as much as logic would allow me and finally allowed my legs to
fall open again. He asked me to scoot myself farther down the table and I did
and then with one hand he opened my lips again and put the tip of the speculum
to the inlet of my passage and eased the beast into me. It was cold and the
muscles within clenched down as if they also wanted nothing to do with such a
thing. Yet he managed to slide it in completely and then began to open it. I
began to close my thighs together unconsciously again and was gently reprimanded
with, "Uh-uh." I felt the Q-tip-like swab from hell upon my cervix as he did the
pap smear and then more heat as he moved the exam lamp closer and he visually
examined my inner parts of my sex. I felt myself pushing down on the speculum,
just wanting the damn thing out of my body. It felt like an intruder. "Okay," he
said, "almost done now." As he turned the instrument back down to normal size
and removed it from my tunnel. I looked back into the mirror then as he once
again put two fingers into my hot box and thought to myself, "No real need for
K-Y if truth be told." and nearly gasped as I felt first one and then two
fingers slide quickly into my ass before I had time to react and hinder the
exploration. He pushed his fingers together with my body in between and stroked
from my pussy against his fingers in my ass. The first sensations were sharp and
painful as the sphincter tried to force his fingers out by clenching down and
then faded to uncomfortable into pleasure as he probed deeper and continued to
stroke. He withdrew his fingers from my slick pussy and I watched as he bit the
edge of the glove and pulled it off of his hand while he continued stroking his
fingers in and out of my ass. I found myself moving against his fingers in a
strange rhythm as I heard the zipper of his trousers open and watched as he used
one hand to drop them down with his briefs around his ankles. I looked up in the
mirror to see his cock standing erect and pulsing against his stomach. I closed
my mouth at the sight of it, such a beautiful piece of work it was, full and
hard. He grasped it with his free hand and worked it a few times in slow strokes
and then, moving closer to me, touched my breasts, kneading them and pinching at
the nipples. He pulled his fingers out of my ass and took the glove off in the
same manner and used that hand to stroke and pull his manhood to an even greater
size than it already was. I began raising my hips towards his cock, craving to
have it within the realms of my hot and soaking pussy, wanting to feel every
inch of it diving deep within me and bringing pleasure to me far beyond what his
talented and professional fingers had already done. He leaned over and kissed my
lips sweetly and then moved to my cheeks that were now hot with passion rather
than embarrassment, licking and kissing them and moving smoothly to my ear and
sensitive lobes, sucking and nibbling at them and biting gingerly at my neck. He
moved his mouth down my neck and I could feel his hot breath on my skin as he
reached my breasts at the same time the head of his cock touched my clit and
sent my hips straight up as if to impale myself upon him from below. He sucked
at my nipples and then with both hands, brought my soft creamy mounds together
and licked the line of cleavage with his tongue and from side to side, swirled
his hungry tongue about my dark and taught areolas and flicked the tip of his
teasing tongue across my hard nipples. I moaned as he pulled his cock away from
my throbbing pussy as he moved his head down my stomach and followed his tongue
strokes with his hands, caressing my body smoothly. I felt his chin just above
my clit, nestled in the cropped hairs of my mound and raised up, presenting my
swollen lips and the blossoming bud, out of its hood, to his fiery mouth and
flaming tongue. And ah, but he did tease me, kissing my stomach and tracing
around my navel, lightly scratching with his nails against the flesh of my hips
and the sentient skin that runs from them to the inside of my thighs, making me
work my hips and gyrate them in an effort to reach either his mouth, cock, or
hands that manipulated my body so well. And alas, finally, he brought his mouth
down upon my fervent and burning cunt and nearly covered it as if to eat me
alive and sucked hard at my flowing currents of desire, lapping at my sweet
nectar that spilled forth in gushes from his touch. His tongue was like
lightning as he licked my slit from top to bottom and back again, barely pausing
to thrust it into my wanton cove of velvet delight. My feet came out of the
stirrups as I wrapped my legs around the back of his shoulders and neck, pulling
his face closer in between my legs and feeling the heat there. My climax was
building upon itself like a bonfire as he again, tickling at first, and then
probing in turn to force his fingers into my ass. My legs dropped down and his
face came up to smother my mouth with deep, animalistic kisses. He moved his
hips into mine and I forced the stirrups aside with my thighs as he lunged his
throbbing cock from a side angle into my aching sex box while he kept his
fingers pumping in and out of my ass. His strokes were hard and deep as he
worked himself from excitement into a frenzy. I half sat up, reaching around my
thigh to grab his balls, feeling how tight and drawn up they were to his body. I
scratched at them lightly with my nails. My breath was gasping and pushed out of
me with his every stroke until I felt light headed while his was sharp and
panting as he labored his churning desire in my blazing burrow in its shortened
and tightened state. Pushing harder to get deeper, to make my tunnel longer to
accommodate the length of his shaft as he pound it into me. I squeezed at his
balls and flicked one fingernail across the muscle that led to his asshole,
tickling the hair there as I felt his balls rise higher and his thighs and ass
harden on a most powerful thrust forward and deep into me as I fell back and
felt him explode in glorious relief. His quicker coming strokes striking
perfectly against my clit, feeling as if they were bruising the underlying bone,
and making my pussy clamp down upon his cock, strong enough to almost stop his
thrusts altogether, as I arched my back to offer my hard nipples and ripe
breasts to the sky and drove my hips to meet his final plunge as my orgasm came
over me, racking my body in waves of unadulterated pleasure to leave me gasping
and feeling as if my heart was skipping a few beats. He fell against me, also
gasping and moaning between pants for breath. My box was still clenching at his
cock when he pulled out, having already cum explosively, yet still very hard. He
stood up straight and pulled his briefs and trousers back up, buttoning and
zipping them as if nothing had happened and then turned the overhead lights back
on. I composed myself and pulled the sheet back up to near my neck as he
gathered up the things he had used and put the speculum in the sterilizer. He
wiped the juices and remnants of K-Y away from my sex and off of my thighs and
ass and refit my feet to the stirrups as a knock came to the door and then it
opened. Gabrielle, the registered nurse for his practice stepped in. "Dr.
Layman, are you ready for the exam now?" she asked, "You know the rules, no
exceptions, a nurse has to be present." "Yes," he said, "I think we're ready
now." She stepped into place beside him as he sat down and raised the sheet and
as I parted my thighs gingerly, my passage opened just enough and the spoils and
fruition of his carnal cravings spilled out of my still quivering velvet cove
and overflowed upon my slit and down to my ass. Gabrielle raised her eyebrows
skeptically and then suspiciously, leaving only one raised, said, "I see that
you look well today Mrs. Layman."
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