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I woke up this morning knowing it was going to be a day I just wanted to get through and forget about. No, it wasn’t going to be a bad day at work. It wasn’t to be a day at work at all. It was all about that time of year again, time for my annual physical.
I wasn’t dreading going to see the doctor as I made my way through heavier than normal traffic. I never really had dreaded doctor visits, mostly because I had been fairly healthy all my life. I am probably one of the more fit men of my age and I rarely went to my doctor more than a couple times a year. But that was just it, my age this year. I am turning fifty in two months and I knew what that meant. It was time for that dreaded procedure, a colonoscopy. I kept telling myself all week I wasn’t having it done today. Dr. Morton was only going to schedule it for me sometime after my 50th birthday when my insurance would cover it.
Still, it was getting too close for comfort.
So here I am shifting uncomfortably in my car as I turn into the parking lot of the medical office. As I drive by the entrance I feel my backside pucker up at the thought of that scope penetrating nearly virgin territory. I suddenly have this amusing thought of all the years that orifice has been assaulted by my doctors digitally. Dr. Morton has had the dubious pleasure for almost five years now. I squirm again in my seat as I pull into a parking place and imagine the feeling of that thick meaty finger of his stabbing up my butt. I for once actually smile about it, not out of pleasure but out of relief that for today it will only be a finger and not something else.
I walk on into the office and up to the counter. I am greeted by a bright smiling face of a new receptionist.
“Good morning, sir. Do you have an appointment with us today?” Along with the bright smile comes a very brightly toned voice.
Now I am one of these people that likes to be very personable and use names when I talk to someone. I just feel it’s more of a social etiquette to do so and besides in a service environment it sometimes has proved to serve me well. So I would usually look right down at the young woman’s name tag and expect in this case to read a ‘Beth’ or ‘Susie’ or something along those lines and come back with a response of, ‘Hi Beth, yes I sure do and aren’t we a very positive person to start my day.’ Instead, my eyes don’t make it down and over to her name tag. My eyes go down alright, but they freeze in place on two of the largest breasts and deepest formed cleavage I have seen in real life. I can feel my tongue and something else further down swell. At that moment I am so glad I am standing behind a waist high counter. As this so far unmanned woman types away on her computer her breasts jiggle and the gold heart dangling on a long gold chain slips further into the cavernous cleft of her bosom.
“Sir, do you have an appointment?” I hear the voice and come out of my trance.
“Uh, what, I uh…” I finally pull my lustful eyes away long enough to look over a couple of inches and see ‘Carol’ printed across her gold name tag. “Oh, yes Carol, I do.”
“Great, with whom?” She asks as she reaches for her computer mouse. That small movement must separate her massive breasts just enough for that cut gold heart to finally fall off the precipice of and disappear between those two mounds of desired womanhood.
That small display causes me to swallow hard and as my hips involuntarily ease forward I feel the lump in my khakis bump against the counter. What is happening with me? I’ve never reacted this much for a woman out in public. I haven’t had sex in over week, not even at the use of my left hand, but all this morning sex has been the furthest thing from my mind. But here I am sporting a real live hard-on.
“I, uh, am with Dr. Morton.” I finally spit out.
“Oh my, I’m sorry.” Carol replies.
The tone in her voice goes from very bright to very somber in barely a heartbeat. I find my surprising erection deflating just about as fast.
“Is there a problem?” I ask.
“Well, yes, we have to reschedule appointments for his patients. He was in a car accident this morning and is still in the hospital. He’s doing well, but obviously he won’t be seeing patients today.”
“Oh wow, at least he’s okay. He’s a fine doctor.”
“So, can I reschedule you for another day? We expect him back in a few of days, but he is already booked for about three weeks out. I can try and find you one for then.” Carol goes to tapping on her keyboard once more and the jiggling breasts are apparent again. The rise in my khakis also begins to return.
Where am I getting off being this horny? I feel the head of my cock creep back down my thigh in my boxers.
Then my fat head, the one on my shoulders takes control again for a second. I realize I can’t schedule a day in the next three or four weeks or even a month after that. I have a swing of business trips lined up for almost two solid months. At first I think it’s a good excuse to put off an unpleasant burdur escort experience, but its just going to be the same pain coming on down the road.
“Hmmm, I let myself bump up too close to a travel schedule so it would tough to plan anything in that time frame. I originally made the appointment for today just for that reason.” I tell Carol.
Carol continues to tap away on her computer and although her generous bosom still is giving me fits of lusty thoughts, the thought of my scheduling conflict overpowers it and my hard-on dwindles away again.
“Well, I could book you to see different doctor that is available today. Dr. Benson has an opening this morning. A late cancellation. Would that be alright?” Carol looks up at me and I am sure she purses her lips, those red lips with a glossy shine.
Okay Steve, get a hold of yourself! No not literally I tell my left hand as it brushes by the front of my khakis. I feel the blood fill my manhood still again.
“That’s a good idea. Why not?” I say to Carol. “What time?”
“The appointment is in twenty minutes. Will that be okay?”
“Sure, thanks Carol. I’ll take it.'”
“Alright then, let me just do a little work here.” She starts tapping away, but in mid-stroke of her sexy fingers on the keys she pauses long enough to reach up and pull that relatively tiny gold heart out from between her comparatively enormous breasts. It flops down on the slope of smooth skin of her left one. As I watch and she types away it starts that slow journey back toward her cavernous cleavage. I gulp and feel my hard-on bump the side of the counter between us.
“Okay you are scheduled. Dr. Benson will see you at 9:30. Have a seat and fill out this form and the nurse will call you shortly.” Carol hands me a clip board with the pen attached by one of those plastic spiral wires. “And thank you, sir, for being so understanding.”
“Thank you so much Carol.” I say as I start to walk away, knowing she has no idea just how much I thank her for what she has done for me this morning. Then I realize my reaction to her sexiness has not yet subsided this last time and I’m pointing the way to the chairs with my erection. Luckily I have the clipboard so I hold it down low, hoping not to be too obvious. I take the first seat I come to. As soon as sit I lay the clip board in my lap a little too abruptly and it bangs against the boner in my pants. I flinch at the slight pain, but at least it’s out of view.
My mind turns to filling out the form on my personal and family medical history. I always totally love these things as it taxes my brain trying to remember dates for shots and surgeries and what ailments my family members have had over the years. I am always fascinated they can’t have most of this printed out already from what’s been written in my medical records from all my visits before. I check boxes and fill in the spaces.
“Mr. Jenkins. Stephen Jenkins.” I hear the voice behind me. I look around and see a nurse. I stand and as I do I stop in my tracks forgetting about the hard-on I had brought with me just minutes ago. To my relief it has completely subsided. So I walk on toward the nurse.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Good morning, uh Cheryl.” I greet this woman more appropriately as I look at her gold name tag. Not that Cheryl isn’t pretty enough to distract me but unlike Carol she isn’t showing the same incredible cleavage and I’ve been distracted enough now with the questions I had to answer on the form.
“Good morning, Mr. Jenkins. I’ll take that.” She reaches out and takes the clipboard with the form. “Please follow me.” And Cheryl my nurse turns to head down the hallway.
Okay, now I know something is wrong with me this morning. Instead of robotically following the nurse like any other visit to this doctor’s office, I am for some reason drawn to Cheryl’s backside. As I walk behind her I am enamored with the motion of her bottom as it rocks to and fro in those nice snug cream colored nurse pants of hers. I actually find myself fantasizing as to what kind of underwear she is wearing. Just as conjure up a picture of a nice thin lacy thong stretched taught between what must be very lovely cheeks, she stops abruptly.
I catch myself quick just in time so as not to bump into her. She’s short enough that the erection that has boomeranged back inside my pants would not hit her in that cute backside but more like the middle of her back. Unlucky for me though I now have nothing to hold in front of my bulging crotch. She has my clipboard. This is going to get very embarrassing very quickly.
“Okay, stand up on the scale and let me get your weight.” She says without looking in my direction and scribbles something on my form.
I step up on the platform but hold my hands crossed down in front of me. My thumb grazes the fly of my khakis and then over to the bulge on the right side. It’s not huge, but it must still be noticeable if I can feel it. I just look straight ahead and see the bursa escort digital numbers finally settle to “194.7”.
“Okay, got that, now how tall are you?” Cheryl then asks looking from the readout up on the wall then back down to my paperwork. I don’t think she could have seen my bulge in the profile with my shielding hands. I hope not anyway.
“Uh, I’m six foot two.” I reply, my thumb grazing back across the pleat over my hard-on. It is subsiding once again luckily for me.
“Okay, let’s take your temp and we’ll be done.” Cheryl finally does turn to face me and holds the thermometer up. She holds it in my mouth high enough I don’t have the opportunity to look down at her body for a moment. Good for us both at this point, I think.
The electronic contraption beeps and she removes the thermometer from between my lips.
“Okay, Mr. Jenkins, follow me and you can wait for Dr. Benson.” Cheryl turns and walks on further down the hallway. I try not to look at her back side again, but the temptation gets a hold of me. There it is swaying as sexily as ever. I feel the blood flowing to my crotch for what must be the tenth time this morning.
Cheryl stops and turns toward an examining room and then looks up at me. I avert my eyes hopefully soon enough that she doesn’t notice.
“Mr. Jenkins, you can wait in here.” She says as I walk by her into the room. “Go ahead and get undressed down to your underwear and put that gown on.” She points to the neatly folded cloth gown lying on the examining table. “Dr. Benson should be in shortly.”
“Thank you Cheryl.” I say as she closes the door behind her. I find myself trying to get one more glimpse at her backside but the door closes too fast.
What a morning Stevie boy! First the downer of having to get this physical done, then to find out my doctor has had a car accident and now I get to see a doctor I’ve never met before. On the up side of course, is getting to see such beautiful sights as far as Carol’s incredible bosom and Cheryl’s lovely backside. I still can’t figure for the life of me why I am so easily turned on today. Like I say, it has been over a week since I’ve made love to my wife, but that isn’t all that unusual for us these past few years. I also may not have had a good jerk of the old pecker over some good erotica of my own or on Literotica in a day or two, but that has not had me sporting a woody for every pretty woman I encounter out in public in the past. The good thing at the moment is that all this analysis of my near fifty year old libido is distracting me enough to lose the erection Cheryl’s bottom had most recently built up.
I undress and strip down to my boxers. Then I pick up the white hospital gown and look at it. I can never remember how the hell to wear one of these things from year to year. I flash back to the movies I’ve seen where they make a joke out of how it opens in the back as you walk down the hall of a hospital. You know, where your big backside hangs out in front of everyone. I always start to put it on that way and change my mind at the last second and put it on like a robe, with the opening in the front. Turns out this one has no strings to tie it shut, so I just wrap it around me and hold it closed with my arms crossed in front of me.
I stand here for at least five minutes before I decide I may as well sit down. So I hop up on the examining table. The gown flaps wide open of course, so I pull it back around me and try to tuck them over my legs to cover my boxers. I know it’s rather silly as the doc will be looking at me head to toe in just a few minutes and the boxers will be the least of my worries. I guess I always have this last twinge of modesty even though Dr. Morton and the other doctors I’ve seen over the years seem to take it all in stride. I’m sure they see a hundred swaying penises a week. It’s just a little feeling today seeing a new doctor today and thinking of him handling my privates when I’ve never met him before. I’m sure he’ll take it nonchalantly just like my old Dr. Morton.
As I have that thought, there is a knock on the door, a pause and then it opens.
In walks a woman, obviously another nurse. “Good morning.” She pleasantly greets me with a wonderful smile. A very pretty face indeed framed by rather nice long brown hair.
“Good morning.” I reply, as I remember I haven’t had my blood pressure taken or my blood drawn. A nurse usually does that before Dr. Morton examines me. So as I settle back realizing this nurse is here to do just that I do my usual looking for a name tag when I realize this woman is not wearing the same cream colored pants and top as Cheryl my other nurse. This woman is wearing a white lab coat. I then focus on her left breast pocket and see script print instead of a name tag and it reads, “Dr. Robin Benson.”
Dr. Benson is a woman!
“So, Mr. Jenkins, first let me apologize for you having to see a different doctor this morning. I’m sure you have heard about Dr. Morton’s accident.” She looks çanakkale escort at me with my chart pressing up to her chest, her arms folded over it.
“Yes, I uh, I did hear. I hope he is well soon.” I look at this new doctor; new to me anyway. She isn’t hopefully too new to the practice although she looks much younger than Dr. Morton who is likely pushing sixty. But she isn’t nearly as young as Carol the receptionist who might be just out of college.
“Yes, we do, too. It doesn’t sound serious but I’m sure he’ll be out of commission for at least a few days. Oh I’m sorry, I am Dr. Robin Benson.” She takes a step forward and extends her hand. As I reach out my hand I gaze at her light blue blouse and then the gaping caused by her leaning toward me. She also doesn’t have the chest of Carol the receptionist and the blouse she is wearing is not as revealing but it still allows me to view a little cleavage. She has a cute little ornament on a gold chain, too. She looks sexy in her own right and suddenly I feel that slight familiar stir in my boxers. I release Dr. Benson’s hand soft hand reluctantly and she turns toward the desk. I look down to below the white coat, and see the dark print skirt she is wearing. It comes to about upper calf-length. For some crazy reason I find myself getting even more excited looking at those smooth but very strong looking calves from behind. My stir now becomes a stretch.
“Let me just take a look at few things in your record to get caught up and I’ll be ready for the exam.” My new doctor says as she takes a seat on the stool in front of the desk. I watch as she tucks her left leg up under her before she sits. Doing this causes her lab coat to fall back which allows me to see another very fine feature of the skirt of hers.
It is slit to mid-thigh!
I only get a moment’s peek at the revealed tanned skin of her leg before she tugs that lower part of her skirt back up, covering herself, before she goes back to reading my chart. I almost give out an audible sigh of disgust not getting to look upon that bare thigh longer. But I bite my lip and try to look around the room to distract my mind and let the semi-hard reaction I am having subside. I look up at a chart that describes the benefits of routine exercise and I am almost engrossed when I hear a barely discernable groan coming from the doctor.
“Hmmm.” I hear and I immediately look back in her direction and see her lean up over the desk just a bit more which in turn causes her body to lift just a fraction off the stool. The slight motion is enough to let the skirt flap slowly fall back down. From this angle I am now treated to even a barer, tanned thigh. My eyes glue to the scenic view and I find myself growing again within my boxers. This is almost getting ridiculous. I really can’t be this hard up, can I?
I quickly stuff my hands in my lap and try to bunch the gown over it.
About that time Dr. Benson stands. “Okay, let’s get you blood pressure.” She goes to the wall by the examining table and takes the pressure cuff off the hook. “Hold you arm out nice and straight.”
Uh-oh. I hesitate but shift my right hand further over my crotch before I raise my left for her. She takes it and rests my forearm on her hip as she slips the cuff up toward my bicep. I know I’m not touching skin, but I swear I can feel her body heat through that skirt and lab coat. It only makes the fight to keep my hard-on under wraps that much more difficult.
“My, looks like you still work out a lot for a man of your age.” She says as she pumps the little bulb and the cuff fills with air, stiffening and tightening around my arm. The stiffening also continues in my boxers.
“I, uh, do try to work out some everyday.” I almost struggle to say as calmly as I can as I do struggle with something else.
“Yes, good forearm muscles. And lucky for me nice veins, that will make it much easier drawing blood when we are done.” She releases the pressure on the cuff. “Hmmm, it seems your pressure is up some today. Maybe it’s what we like to call ‘white coat’ syndrome. Do you usually get nervous before you come to see Dr. Morton?” Dr. Benson asks as she slips the cuff back off my arm and my hand slips off her hip and white lab coat.
“Uh, well, maybe. I guess.” I lie, knowing it never has before and knowing full well why my blood pressure is high. Of course, as much as I feel the blood rushing to my manhood down below it’s a wonder there is any left to measure in my arm. The thing is not fully extended as yet but it’s getting there. My one hand is still bunching up the gown in front of me.
“Tell you what, we’ll take it again once I’ve finished the exam and you have had time to relax.” With that she proceeds to get the light contraption from the wall and checks my ears and eyes.
The touch of her fingers on my skin only adds to the heat I feel from Dr. Benson, whether real or just imagined in my lustful brain at the moment. Luckily I have two free hands again to force back down the steel rod growing in my shorts.
“Okay, eyes and ears look fine. Any complaints at all in the last few months? Any physical ailments you want to discuss?” Other than the one painful ailment I have right now trying to work its way out of my boxers, Doc?
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