The Doctor and I

Laying back on the love seat, naked, I planned to take a short nap before showering and heading to the OB/GYN for my semi-annual exam. Dr. Miller -- Rachel -- is my doctor, and she is beautiful. She's petite, blonde (not natural, I think) and has the most perfect breasts and ass I've ever seen. Both are round and proportionate to her frame... delicious! So, I wanted to be freshly showered when she examined my fairly plump body. Any woman knows what I mean... we shower, shave, shave again, deodorize, powder, etc... primping for the doc, whether male or female, who is going to have their face just inches away from our naughty bits.

Reclining on the love seat, my thoughts drifted to Dr. Miller and my last visit to her. During our pre-exam conference, as I sat there covered in a paper sheet, feeling exposed and vulnerable, Dr. Miller rose from her chair, exposing her crotch for just a split second. It wasn't naked, she was wearing white cotton panties... very sensible. But for some reason, it turned me on so much, that precum began to lubricate the folds of my pussy... probably leaving a wet spot on the paper sheet below me. How embarrassing! In just minutes, Dr. Miller would have her fingers inside of me, and she'd know that I was experiencing arousal. Hell, my nipples were even getting hard!

She instructed me to lay back on the table and place my heels in the stirrups, as she took her spot on the little stool at the foot of it. I heard the snap of latex gloves, and the squirt of K-Y she used to allow her fingers smooth access to my vagina. Whew... that meant she'd maybe not notice my own personal lubrication pooling down there from the flash of white panties I just had as she stood up.

"Relax, Anne," Dr. Miller said, "I'm going to slide my fingers into you now."

"Breathe," I told myself. "Just breathe."

Still, the entrance of her gloved fingers into my most private area took my breath away for a moment. It wasn't the usual startled surprise, either. It was a sexual thrill. I certainly wasn't counting on that. I stifled the moan that made its way from my belly to my lips.

I could feel her pressing her fingers deeper inside of me, to get a better feel of the organs above my vagina. But as much as I told myself that this was all clinical, scientific, and necessary, I was feeling so aroused that I'm sure I began to move my pelvis in time to her pushing. Precisely when I realized I was practically fucking her fingers, she unceremoniously pulled them out and peeled off the gloves. I was afraid to look at her, so I turned my head the other way, willing myself to get it together. This is my doctor for Christ's sake!

"Time for the breast exam, Anne," she said, interrupting my thoughts.

As I looked in her direction, there was a tell-tale flush to her face and chest. She must've noticed my pelvic thrusts as she had done the exam. I was dying at this point, as perhaps she was. Dr. Miller moved to the other end of the exam table and instructed me to fold down the paper sheet, exposing my breasts for her examination. I did as she requested, praying that my nipples had gone soft again and that if they hadn't, that having taut nipples was a fairly normal response for someone having her breasts practically felt up by the doctor.

Dr. Miller cradled my breast with one hand, while making circles with the other, starting at the underside, and working her way up toward the nipple.

"Ssssss," I sucked in my breath as her fingers passed over my totally erect nipples. Still holding my breast gently with one hand, she finished her exam of that breast where it met my underarm. She repeated the procedure on the other breast, her bare hands moving lightly over my flesh, causing my pussy to become even wetter than it was before the exam began.

"Get dressed, Anne," she called over her shoulder as she left the exam room. "I'll see you in my office when you're ready."

I quickly dressed, throwing away the paper sheet from the exam table, that was now soaked with my juices, and made my way to her office in the next room. It was very tastefully decorated, and had a comfy sofa for us to sit on while we discussed the exam and it's implications.

"Anne, I'm going to be honest with you," she began.

Oh no. she's going to confront me about my attraction to her. What should I say?

"I think you may need to come and see me next week for another exam," she continued, breaking into my panicked thoughts. "There's a slight abnormality that I need to read up on before examining you again."

I didn't know whether to burst with joy, or break into tears. On one hand, Dr. Miller didn't mention my obvious sexual desire for her. But on the other hand, something might be really wrong with me.

"I see, Dr. Miller. I can make an appointment for next week."

"Ok, then. I will see you in exactly one week." And the conversation ended, just like that. Dr. Miller rose from her spot on the sofa and opened her office door to let me out.

And that's where my memory of that doctor appointment ends. As I layed here naked, thinking about that visit, I realize my hands had drifted to my round thighs, not even aware that I'd already parted my legs, awaiting the touch of my hands on my snatch. Working my upward along my inner thighs, my fingers came to rest on my full, meaty pussy lips.

I couldn't help myself at this point. I'd fantasized about Dr. Miller since this time last week, but haven't touched myself even once. I know I shouldn't be doing this just prior to a visit where her eyes will peer into my vagina and see the cum coating the inside of me. Still, I spread my cunt wide open with one hand, and begin to flick gently at my clit with my other hand. It's already sprung to life, becoming a nice, hard, little bud tingling with pleasure at my every touch. Soon, the flicks turn to slow circles around my love button, my hips rising and rotating in the opposite direction.

"Mmmmm," I moan softly.

"Mmm hmmmmm," I pant a little louder.

"Ohmmmm.... mmmmmm...," I felt the orgasm building in my pelvis, my fingers involuntarily moving faster and harder as fire exploded in my belly, releasing that warmth that can only mean one thing: I'm cumming, strong and sweet. My quim quivered and my thighs clenched against my hands, pressing them hard against my erect bud. The tension flowed out of my body, as did the creamy evidence of my pleasure.

"Oh, God, that was good!" I smiled to myself and hopped up to take a shower and get ready for my appointment.

Just 30 minutes later, I arrived at Dr. Miller's office, and oddly hd no trouble finding a parking space. Did I get the appointment wrong? Today is Tuesday, isn't it? I hit the alarm for the car and made my way toward the small office that houses Dr. Miller's and Dr. Tali's medical practice.

Pushing my way through the glass door to the building, I noted the lighting was different in the office. It wasn't dark, exactly, but there wasn't as much light as usual either. Aha! The receptionist's desk lamp is off! But the door was open. This is all too confusing. What's going on?

"Dr. Miller?" I call. "Is anyone here?"

"Anne!," Dr. Miller smiled as she rounded the corner from her office.

"Where is everyone?" I asked as I looked around the office. "The door was unlocked, so I came in."

"I was expecting you an hour ago. I sent everyone home, and Dr. Tali is on vacation this week," was her reply.

"Oh no! Did I get the wrong time for the appointment?"

"Yes, I'm afraid you did," Dr. Miller said. And then she added, "But I can still take you if you don't mind the quietness of the empty office."

"Sure. I'd really appreciate it. I don't know how I made this mistake and got the wrong time, but I'm ready and I don't think I can stand the suspense of not knowing what's wrong with me."

"Would you like to talk about that in my office before we begin the exam?" she asked.

Breathing a sigh of relief, I told her that I would love to discuss it right away. And with that, she led the way to her office, closing the door probably more out of habit than because someone might walk in. After all, the office was vacant, except for us.

"Anne," Dr. Miller begins, "I don't know quite how to say this to you. It's one of the most difficult conversations I've ever had to have in my career as a doctor."

"Just say it, Dr. Miller. I can take anything you have to tell me. The worst part is not having any idea what's wrong with me. I'd prefer knowing rather than not." I offer bravely, ready for whatever bad news she was about to deliver.

"Anne, I think you may have the wrong idea about what I have to tell you. I'm sorry if you've been worrying about it all week. I just needed time to read about this and to search my own soul for answers," Dr. Miller continued.

"Go on. Tell me."

"Well, last week when you were in my office, I think that you were becoming aroused, more than usual, as I did my exam."

"I - I - I know," I stammer. "I'm sorry, Dr. Miller. I don't know what came over me! I haven't had any sex in quite a long time. My boyfriend and I broke up over a year ago, and you're the only one who's touched me 'down there' in all that time." All of that I blurted out in a single breath, horrified that we were confronting the issue, but relieved that she wasn't telling me I was dying or had some strange deformity.

"I see, Anne, would you mind calling me Rachel? I feel like we are having this conversation more as friends right now, rather than doctor and patient. Besides, Miller is my ex-husband's name, and having broken up with your boyfriend, you may know how I feel about having to use his last name."

"Dr. ... er... I mean, Rachel? Is that normal? You know, for me to be wet like that when you touched me last week?"

"Sure, it's completely natural. But I wanted to talk to you about something else, which I'm having trouble with about that day," she admitted.

"Yes? Go ahead, Rachel," I said hesitantly.

"I was feeling some sexual feelings of my own as I examined you. I've never experienced this before. I've never wanted to touch any of my patients in a sexual way. I am gay, a lesbian, which is why my husband and I divorced. I've been alone for a long time. My lover and I broke up over a year ago. Sure, I masturbate, but that isn't the same as having someone touch you and feel you and hold you."

Her confession was surprising and moving. I wasn't offended, rather intrigued by what she was saying.

"Rachel, I was very aroused during that exam. I was becoming so lubricated, that you wouldn't have needed to use that K-Y you always use. I'm not gay though. I have thought about women from time to time, but I've got this big, round body. My exboyfriend told me I'd never get another man looking like this. Your touch excited me in ways that I haven't ever experienced before. When you touched my breasts, you didn't seem repulsed by them. You didn't cringe when you saw the bulge of my belly or my jiggly thighs."

"That's because I find them beautiful, Anne. You have a woman's body. It's all about grace and curves and softness. It's what aroused me the first time I saw you in my office." Rachel says as she smiles gently and touches my hand.

"I don't know what to say. Why are you telling me this? Do you want me to find another doctor?" I ask.

"If you want, Anne. But what I really wanted to ask is if you'd consider coming over to my house for dinner sometime. Of course I understand if you aren't interested. I don't want to push you into anything or make you feel uncomfortable about getting medical care here. But after looking deep into my heart this past week, I knew that I needed to take this chance, or lose what could be the woman I was meant to be with."

"I think I'd like to come for dinner. When?" I surprised even myself with my answer.

"How about tonight? I was just finishing up here when you arrived. You could follow me to my house. I've got all the fixins for the best spaghetti you've ever tasted in your life!" Her warm smile melted any inhibitions I may have felt in the beginning of this odd conversation. "And I promise I won't do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. We are just friends, ok?"

"Ok, Rachel. I'm glad we had this talk. I was so embarrassed last week and so worried all week about what was going on with me. I am actually relieved now that we've talked. And I'm famished, so let's get this show on the road, girl!" I grin. She smiled back, and I could feel our friendship beginning.

We pull into the long driveway of Rachel's beautiful farmhouse. It isn't far outside the city, but it is a different world out here. I saw stars, traffic was non-existent, and the smell of fresh cut hay was in the air. I breathed it all in as I left my car and followed Rachel up the stone pathway to her front door. I noticed the curve of her buttocks as she climbed the path. Her buns are delicious. I had thought so many times what a great body she had, and figured I was envious, that I wanted that body for my own. But tonight, I could tell that I wasn't just jealous of her body, I want to experience her body. To feel those cheeks in my hands, to squeeze them and run my hands over their shapeliness.

Walking through the front door, I saw that her home was gorgeous. It smells of cinnamon and vanilla. It's like every country home I've ever seen in the magazines. I already felt relaxed, just being in that cozy atmosphere. Rachel directed me to hang my coat on the coat tree, and have a seat anywhere in the family room while she started on the spaghetti. I complied, but it wasn't more than a few minutes of watching her assemble the ingredients before I felt the urge to help. I've never been one to just sit back and let someone else cook for me. It should be a team effort.

"Can I help?" I asked, half expecting her to tell me to sit down and rest a few minutes before dinner.

But she surprises me and tells me that she'd be happy to have some help. I can do the salad.

In short time, we were chatting away like old friends, and setting the table for dinner.

The table was small and the candles on it created a warm atmosphere... a glow... and I saw Rachel in a whole new light, both literally and figuratively. Her lips looked so kissable and sweet. She caught me watching her slurp the last of a strand of spaghetti into her mouth, spashing a tiny dab of sauce on her upper lip. Her tongue peeked out just a little to scoop it up, and I swear she allowed it to linger just a bit longer than necessary. She was seducing me, and I was thrilled. Butterflies were dancing in my tummy, some escaping to my pussy, which was beginning to tingle.

Dinner continued and as we were cleaning up the table afterward, I splashed a bit of wine on my sweater.

"Damn! That's gonna stain!"

"Here, let me get a towel and some club soda. We'll take care of that in a jiffy." Rachel moved quickly to get the needed supplies and nearly ran into me when she turned around to hand them to me.

"Thank you. I feel like such a klutz! I'm always spilling something."

"You? I'm the one that nearly knocked you over trying to get the club soda!" she laughed. "Let me dab it for you."

Rachel took the towel and poured a small amount of the soda water on it. Gingerly, she dabbed at the stain which dotted my left breast. The touch of her hands was electric. I didn't expect to feel anything like that from her kind gesture. She diligently worked at dabbing the stain up, so businesslike, that I thought I must have imagined her seduction during dinner.

"There. It looks like I got most of it. I don't think it will set in if you wash it as soon as you get home."

"Are you trying to get rid of me already?" I chuckled.

"Of course not! I was planning on lighting a fire if you'd care to stay a while longer." She answered.

"Great! I don't have any plans for tonight. A warm fire sounds perfect!"

We settled in on the sofa in front of the fire, and talked about our jobs, our families, our most embarrassing moments, whatever came to mind. Several logs later, we were still talking and laughing like we'd been friends forever.

"You mean he actually put the car in drive?!!! I'll bet you were covered in mud!" Rachel said of a particularly awkward moment when my brother's car got stuck in a ditch and I had to help push it out.

"Yes, I was!" I laughed heartily. "And I can laugh about it now, but that day, I was fuming mad at him!"

Our eyes met as we laughed, bringing a charged silence that brought our lips together for the first time. It wasn't Rachel who made the first move either. It was me. I leaned closer to her, still holding her gaze, half smiling from the uproarious situation I'd just related. I paused before our lips met, afraid that she wasn't going to respond. She closed the gap between us, and gently touched her lips to mine, closing her eyes as she did. It was such a soft, sweet kiss. We parted and she opened her eyes, looking so content.

I leaned in again, this time, closing MY eyes and parting my lips as we met somewhere in the middle. Rachel's hand cradled the back of my head, her tongue probing delicately, finding my own curious tongue waiting for hers. I let my hand rest on her hip, as she deepened the kiss. My cunt was going haywire! Tingling, flowing with precum, pussy lips swelling. Kissing Rachel was exhilarating! Feeling her hand slide from the back of my head, tickling down the center of my back, nearing my ass both scared me and gave me sexual chills. I bravely moved my hand from her hip, slowly up her side, allowing myself to linger at the side of her breast, exploring the curve beneath it. A woman felt so different than a man. Men are all angles and muscle. Rachel's form was soft, round, flowing from one body part into another.

Neither of us said a word. I mirrored Rachel's actions. As she began unbuttoning her blouse, I pulled my sweater over my head. Her lacy silk bra made her tits look like sweet, juicy peaches, ripe for the picking. I began to become self-conscious about my own less-than-perfect body. I pulled my sweater to my chest, covering my larger, more fleshy bosoms.

"Don't, Anne. Your boobs are awesome! I love the way they feel in my hands when I examine you. Let me see them, please." Rachel lowered the sweater than remained a barrier between my breasts and her.

Rachel unhooked my bra from the front, allowing my globes to tumble free of their restraint. My nipples and areola were aching from their confinement, their tautness visible immediately. She lifted my breasts, one in each hand, feeling their weight. Her thumbs brushed across their rock hard buds.

"Mmmmmmm," I moaned, closing my eyes and allowing my head to fall back.

"Oh, you like that?" Rachel cooed. "Your nipples are so sensitive. Do you pinch them or play with them?"

"Mmmmm hmmmm... sometimes I pull at them when I'm feeling horny."

"Your nipples are like cherries, begging to be eaten." She lifted my breast higher and lowered her head to allow her mouth access to the swollen knob at it's center. "Mmmmffff... " she half-moaned, half-cooed as she ran her tongue around the edges of the areola, flitting across the peak of the nipple. The feeling warmth as her mouth enclosed as much of my tit as she could, sent currents of sexual energy through my body. Her other hand, still pinching my other nipple... little sparks of sex zinging through that tit.

"Rachel. Can I see your breasts? Let me take off your bra, please?" I begged.

"Sweetie, I know this is new to you. I don't expect you to do anything right now, except enjoy the touch of my hands, my mouth, my body. There will be plenty of time for you to explore my body."

"Mmm kay," I managed to murmur, as she took both tits in her hands and began kneading them firmly, but with a gentless that was so pleasurable to me. We kissed again, hungry this time. I was being driven to the brink, and had no idea what was going to happen next.