Anne's First of Many Gyn Exams

As I get ready to go to bed, I usually prepare my clothing for the next day. I want to look classy tomorrow. I have several meetings and I also have my annual gyn check-up. At work I like to project confidence and authority particularly because I am so petite; but at Dr. Gregory's Office I just like to show myself off. I like Doctor Gregory, and while he is a very nice man, he's also sexy and that's why I chose him as my doctor. I decide upon a sporty, stylishly cut light gray skirt suit with peppermint highlights. At work, my rather sheer white blouse will be conservatively hidden by my suit jacket; at the doctor's office it will show off my nipples through my bra because I'll remove my jacket when I'm sitting in doctor's Gregory's office. I will complete the outfit with shiny gray hose and classic patent leather pumps with a nice heel.

I more than enjoy the gyn exams; they have become an integral part of my erotic imagination and have entered into my married sex life. It is an acquired taste. My first few exams were excruciatingly embarrassing. When I was young it seemed naughty undressing for the doctor. It still embarrasses me to have a fully dressed man, essentially a stranger, order me to undress, look at my genitals, and touch me there. It is particularly embarrassing because I know he can see I am sexually aroused. What has changed is that as I grew-up, I came to realize that the embarrassment is part of what turns me on and I embrace it.

Anyway, I had my first exam my sophomore year of college after having put it off many times. I finally went only because my sorority sisters pushed me into it. I wasn't even sexually active then so I didn't need contraception, which was the reason they went. However, once they discovered that the subject embarrassed me, they started riding me about it. Some of them claimed to enjoy the exam, a reaction I could not comprehend since I was mortified. They all saw the same doctor. He apparently was very young, confident, and extremely good-looking. They joked, about having orgasms while on the exam table. I told them I thought all gynecologists were perverts. That just made them egg me on even more. Finally they teased me until in order to prove my courage I had to agree to go through with it. They went so far as to make the appointment for me at University Health Services. They wouldn't even tell me if they had picked a women or male doctor, which they thought was a riot.

I had trouble going to sleep the night of the exam I was so concerned about it. It wasn't that I was scared of the procedure itself, I had read enough about what to expect in women's magazines to understand it was painless. It was a fear of having to undress before a doctor. It was a fear of him looking at me naked. It was a fear of him touching my breasts, putting his hands into me, and worst of all, possibly inserting a finger into my rectum. I had read enough to know that was optional but the thought of it horrified me. But most of all, it was plain embarrassment. Especially at the thought that I would get all hot and wet down there and then that he would see it.

But I wasn't so concerned that I didn't masturbate that night. I was thinking about it, him dressed, me naked, his fingers pushing into my body. The thought of the stirrups turned me on too. Once my sorority sisters had been play wrestling with me and they had held me down and taken off my shoes and tickled my feet and said they wouldn't stop until I described a sexual fantasy. I wondered if he would tickle me while I was restrained. While I masturbated I wondered whether he could tell that I played with myself, whether he would ask me about sex, about masturbation, about whether I could reach orgasm. I tried to imagine myself naked, him looking at me and asking me what I thought about when I masturbated. Then I came.

When the morning came I shaved my legs, a practice I have maintained. However, then I shaved so I would just look normal; now I do it so I can look as good as I can and I do it a few days before so my legs aren't nicked. I wore nice slacks, a conservative blouse, a discreet new pair of matched white panties and bra just purchased from Penney's for the occasion, and penny loafers and knee-highs. The knee-highs turned out to be a mistake. My sisters saw me off asking whether I had cleaned up especially well down there for the doctor.

I walked to the Health Services building and followed the sign to Women's Health Services. I was relieved to see that no one I knew saw me entering. The waiting room was full. I relaxed a bit thinking how many other girls were going to go through the same experience. Then I found myself imagining watching them undressing for the doctor. He would put his fingers inside each one of them. I got hot. Then I noticed the guy sitting there, which rattled me. Why didn't they have to lie on the exam table with their legs spread open? The clerk took my name and said I had an appointment with Dr. Gregory, the young good-looking guy of course. I sat and waited for them to call my name swinging my legs with nervous energy. I was too nervous to know whether I preferred to wait or to be called immediately. I didn't have to wait long. A young good-looking doctor entered the waiting room, and while looking down at his clipboard called out my name. I stood up and stared at him waiting for his eyes to meet mine. He had such an engaging smile, I relaxed, and maybe this was not going to be so bad.

He asked me to follow him down the hall. We walked to the end; I tried to peek into some of the rooms as if seeing them would give me a clue as to what he was going to do to me. He walked into a small exam room, pointed to a seat, and shut the door. The room was tiny; this was going to be intimate! I stared at the metal stirrups poking out of the table. I had fantasized that they would lock around my ankles and that I would be powerless. Maybe he would tickle me. I wondered when I would have undress and put my feet up in them.

He said he would explain the procedure to me and that he would take a quick history and then perform the physical exam. There it was, the dreaded words, physical exam. But he smiled and I relaxed again. He said he saw this was the first time I was going to Health Services and asked whether I had had a pelvic exam before. When I said no, he told me that he would tell me what he was going to do at each step, but that basically he would examine my breasts, perform the internal exam, and give me a pap smear and then we were all done.

He asked whether I was sexually active and whether I needed contraception. He smiled when I said no. He said he hesitated to ask was I a virgin. It was my turn to smile and I smiled as primly as I could and said yes. He said that was not an obstacle to a complete exam, he had a small speculum so he would not rupture the hymen. Well great, my young vagina had not yet entertained full-grown cock so I was only qualified for the young adult exam. Well come back next year and we'll see if you've grown up yet and then I'll really put my hands up your vagina to see if you're stretched out correctly. Fortunately, the rest of the questions were boring questions about menstruation and pain. At least I had completed the history portion of the exam without any questions about masturbation. For a fleeting moment, I was disappointed he hadn't asked me.

Then he turned to me and asked me to undress completely. I wasn't ready for that at all, undressing in front of him. While I wondered if there was an appeals process, he pointed to the clothing hooks on the door and said I could hang up my clothes and change into the gown he laid out on the table. I planned to undress with my back to him. But don't you know it; he picked that moment to chitchat so I had to face him and he was going to watch me undress. I just know that he did it on purpose. Where was I from, did I like it here. He had just completed his residency at University Hospital this year and yes, he loved it here so much, didn't I? He was going to settle here. I couldn't reply because all I could think of was whether he would be able to see how hard my nipples were through that discreet JC Penney bra. So I just made eye contact with him, and nodded while doing an unwanted and inelegant strip tease, my first in front of a man.

I took off my shoes and left them next to the side of the exam table. I had plain-Jane unpainted toenails; now I enjoy showing off my immaculately pedicured size four feet. I didn't take off my knee-highs next because the floor looked too cold and shiny. So I removed my blouse and pants next and walked to the door to hang them up on the hook. Now I was facing him in my new matching bra and panties, I hoped he appreciated them. And yes my nipples were sticking out through my bra, just asking to be stimulated. There was no appeal. I was going to be naked in front of him. I felt the excitement and fear of a young virgin who were going to give herself to her lover.

I unhooked the bra and let me breasts out. The embarrassment quotient jumped up a degree and I felt myself getting wet. I couldn't smell myself yet but I knew that was coming. I couldn't believe it but I was going to be glad to get out of panties so he wouldn't see the wetness accumulating on them. Holding the table, I stepped out of them. I wanted to hide my panties under my clothes on the hook so they wouldn't be so obvious, but now that he was watching me I was too embarrassed to remove my clothes from the hook so as to hide my underwear and reveal this desperate exercise in modesty. So there were my panties, like a little moist flag, hanging out from the hook facing me during the exam. That too is a practice that I have maintained, though now it signals my pleasure in being undressed by my doctor.

Then I was standing in my ridiculous nude knee-highs. Funny words nude knee-highs. They had to go. But how? I tried to balance on one foot and pull one off. But they were clingy and clammy from my nervous perspiration and probably smelly. I had to hop to retain my balance and I practically fell into him. He finally laughed that reassuring laugh of his and said I didn't have to remove them, but I did. I bent down right in front of him, giving him a first rate view of my now naked ass to pick them up. Finally I buried the damned things in my shoes. I have maintained a life-long dislike of nude knee-highs.

I thought the comedy was over, and then I discovered another here-to-for unknown enemy, the gown. First you have to discover which end to put on; is it possible that a gown has more than four possible directions to put on? Then you fumble with the straps, and then having triumphed over them you have to face-up to the fact that it is the ultimate useless victory! In this case he has just seen me in my altogether and is about to put his fingers up my twat, is he trying to earn sensitivity points by handing me a threadbare sheet with flimsy straps that he will promptly remove. Of course not! It is just a trap they set for you and then laugh. I struggled with it and finally sort of get it on. He laughed again, and strangely I did feel better in the gown, He tells me to sit up on the table, which I do. Then I noticed the paper on the exam table. It echoes my every wiggle and will document my every secretion. It continues to commands my attention because I wonder what history it will reveal?

He does a cursory exam of my ears, eye and the throat thing with the stick. The "Say ah "thing with the dry stick that makes you want to puke. Then he felt my neck, which felt a lot nicer. I start to relax and then he says lets get started. I am struck that this has been a just preliminary for him too.

He unties the straps on the back of my gown and pulls the front forward so my breasts are exposed. I love my breasts. I did then and I still do. They are perfectly shaped, not very large, but perfect little cups. The nipples and areoles are large and exquisitely sensitive. They cover almost the entire front of the breast. I wonder if he likes them. He shows no sign of noticing and instead asks me to raise my arm. He tells me that he is going to feel my lymph nodes and explains that it includes breast tissue. I was not ready for that but again it is somewhat reassuring to have him play around there. I find myself enjoying sitting there with my breast standing out and him hands on me. He repeats the procedure for the other arm and then says everything is normal.

He asks me to lie down with my hands under my head and says he will start the breast exam. I feel restrained but things are also getting more intimate and instead of terror I am beginning to enjoy myself. His two fingers land right on my nipple. They are warm; I like them there. He wiggles them around on top of the nipple, and he puts two fingers from the other had on the other side of the nipple and presses the two sets of fingers together, squeezing the nipple and puffing it out in the process. Just checking for discharge he says. I suppress the urge to say keep on checking and until you get some. But I do relax and really enjoy the sensation. As I said my nipples are exquisitely sensitive and I am also thinking of how wet I must be getting, how wet the gown and the paper table covering must be getting, and how I am really going to be on display in a few brief minutes. I want him to be looking at me there.

My imagination drifted forward in time to when he would insert his fingers in my vagina. Just then I had an unusual reaction; it had to do with my feet. I knew I would want to push the soles of my feet against something when he inserts his fingers in me. My mind raced to the stirrups, could I ask him if I could put my feet in them now? No, that would appear too odd. And anyway I wanted to push with the soles of my feet, almost as if to reciprocate to the pressure of his fingers pushing into me. I imagined pushing my bare feet against his chest.

He continues to play with one breast and it feels great. This isn't so bad. Then he says he'll repeat the procedure with the right breast. That nipple is much more sensitive. It has grown raw waiting for him to touch it, to squeeze it. When he finally does his little two handed pinch I can't stop myself from squirming on the table, from squeezing my legs together, trying to push my feet against something.

Finally he says, "Everything looks normal. I'll start the pelvic. Let me help you position your feet in the stirrups. They may be a little cold." As he tries to grasp my ankle I rub my soles against his hand, as if by accident. He lets them rub a second and then firmly place my foot in the stirrup. He peels the latex glove onto his fingers. Then he tells me to scoot down until I feel his hand. I do feel it, it is perilously close to the opening of my ass. He says first I'll examine the external vaginal area visually. Here comes the moment of truth. He pulls open my vaginal lips with his hands, I am certain exposing my swollen clitoris. But that is to come.

"First I'll check the top." Now he peals back the hood of the clitoris. "Here is your clitoris," he smiles and says "it may be a bit sensitive." He feels around it, pushing it as he makes a little circle. I gasp, hoping he doesn't hear me. "Now I'll check your urethra. Now the perineal area." That is surprisingly ticklish and I can't resist the squirm, wondering if he'll proceed to the rectum, I'm half looking forward to him inserting his finger.

Now I'll do the internal exam. I feel a finger or two slipping in me, who can tell how many? This is the first time a man has been in me and I see what I've been missing. Now I'll do a bi-manual and check your ovaries. His second ungloved hands play over my pubic area, while I can feel his gloved hand move inside me. It's ticklish and I squirm some more, which is particularly sexy with him in me. For a brief moment I clinch my vaginal muscles around his finger, he should feel some reaction from me for all his work.

Finally he introduces the dreaded speculum and swab and before I know it, it is over. He hands me some tissues to clean myself up, yet another chance to humiliate myself. I have to walk around naked to throw out the tissue. I am embarrassed again but I am getting used to being naked in front of him and am enjoying getting hot. I am thinking that I want to get back to the sorority. I need so time alone so I can think about the exam and masturbate. Time to get dressed. He is chit chatting away. That wasn't so bad was it? Everything looks ok. They'll call me if the results are abnormal. He'll see me next year. I take my clothes of the hook and put the pile on the table. I put on my panties, boy are they humid. I feel embarrassed letting him see me put on these wet things. I wonder if he could smell me. Well of course he could, whom am I kidding? I slip on my bra while talking with him. I imagine I am a hooker getting dressed in front of a john. At last I am dressed, well except for the knee-highs. I put them in my pockets.

I hope that my sorority sisters are not there when I return but of course, having made the appointment they are all ready for me. Seeing them ganged up I half expected them to have made a welcome banner with a picture of me in stirrups. They wanted details. Did I think he was handsome? And amidst a lot of giggles, could he tell that I was hot. Did I leave any stains on the exam table paper? I was good-natured but I desperately wanted to get away and play with myself. I wondered if they could tell. When I finally did masturbate, my fantasy included all my sorority sisters watching me get opened up by my doctor and each one wishing that she was lying there in my place. I had a great orgasm. It is a fantasy I still use today.