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My Gyno Fantasy

Posted by: Age: 19 Posted on: 11 comments
21 likes 8071 views Category: Masturbation Female-Male Tags: Gynecologist, Fantasy, Tit, Pussy, Examination
Just a little fantasy of mine....................

I hated my OB-GYN. With a purple passion. It seemed like the acceptable thing to do though, because any woman who enjoys a trip to the lady doctor must be mentally fucked... or literally. Sometimes I thought after visiting the things they do are done to make the experience as unpleasant as possible. Then they must resort to fear mongering to get you to come back. Cold implements, cold room, cold hard table, and the touch, always rough. I wondered why the need for a speculum to get one or two fingers in there? And that is my breast, not a piece of shoe leather you're digging your fingers into. And yes. Yes, of course that hurts. Because you meant for it to. Also, how about a little lube before we go treasure hunting? I always thought, had I chosen gynecology as my profession, I would work to make it as pleasant an experience as possible. I met a friend for lunch and the subject came up. We don't usually talk about such personal things, but the day she had chosen for a mall trip conflicted with my doctor's appointment. She crinkled her face and sipped her drink. "Are you still going to Patel?" I nodded. We had to speak up over the music. "You?" She shook her head, looking a little guarded. It was unusual; she's not the shy type. "Found a new guy." "Oh yeah? I didn't know there were any new doctors in town." "Well," she glanced around. "He's not in town. He's in Blanker." Wow, that was an hour's drive. I raised my eyebrows at her. "You drive out there just for...?" She grinned. "He's a little... different. And he likes to operate sort of under the radar." I was intrigued. "Is he worth it? Is he good?" She giggled. The gin and tonic was loosening her up. "Babe, he's worth it. Won't take insurance, though." I gaped. "What the hell?" "Here." She dug in her bag, pulled out a scrap of paper and a pen, and wrote a number. "Give him a try. But you did not hear it from me. I don't want you wrecking a good thing." I pulled up outside the building bearing the address I'd punched into the GPS. It was a nondescript red brick with vertical blinds blocking the front windows. I looked around at the empty lot, and the relative seclusion. Not the best part of town. I thought about calling Emily and confirming it was the right place before leaving the safety of my car. I resisted. The receptionist with whom I'd made the appointment had been very sweet and professional. She'd ended our brief conversation with, "We'll look forward to seeing you then, honey." I debated driving away. But my curiosity got the better of me. I tested the front door gingerly, half-expecting it to be locked. It wasn't. It swung inward, and out wafted the delicate soft scents of perfumed candles and roses and cinnamon. I was expecting a bright white waiting room, but what greeted me looked more like a high-end spa. The light was soft. The walls were a warm light brown, as was the carpet, and everything was accented in jewel tones; wine-colored blinds and swags, dark blues and deep greens and soft creams in the plush furniture. And a curtain of sparkling beads that parted with a soft tinkle as a tall, elegant woman in low heels came through. She smiled warmly and put out her hand. "Hi, you must be Caitie? I'm Jessica. Welcome." I took her hand and smiled back. "Would you like something to drink? We have a really nice red today." "Wine? At a gyno?" She laughed softly. "We find it puts the patients at ease. Please have a seat, the doctor will be just a moment." While she was away, I stood and read the medical degrees, diplomas and certificates plastered on the back wall. They all hung over a small, bow-legged table holding burning incense and bowls of floating rose petals and tea lights. He certainly seemed legit. "Caitie?" The voice was masculine, but soft. Intimate but friendly. I turned, and looked up. Way up. He stood with a hand out, dressed in a lab coat and the prerequisite stethoscope around his neck. I took his hand. It was warm. Nice. "I'm Dr. Rathbone. You can call me Jim, if you're comfortable." I smiled back. To my surprise, he motioned me toward the loveseat. He settled back comfortably on the opposite end, crossed his legs, and turned a direct, open gaze on me. He was good looking. No, he was handsome. Like, Harrison Ford handsome. A strong square jaw, clean shaven, thin lips that were crooked into an easy smile. Slight hook in his thin nose. Blue eyes. Short, neat blonde hair going silver at the temples. I was quickly forgetting why I was here. "Would you like to fill me in on your medical history? Or do we need to work up to that?" He rested his jaw on his thumb, his index finger running up along his temple. Long fingers. He appeared to be completely at ease. I realized I was perched on the edge of the couch, and self-consciously slid back and pressed my knees together. "Well, it's been about a year since my last check-up." He nodded. "Good. May I ask your age? From a purely professional standpoint." "Nineteen." "Have you ever had any problems with anything?" "Down there?" I fumbled and asked stupidly. He smiled for real. Then chuckled. "Yes. Yes, I do specialize in 'down there.'" I knew I was blushing. I wasn't sure I wanted Adonis peering at my naughty bits. At least not in a professional capacity. I was a little shocked at my internal whore, and gave myself a mental shake. "I was told you don't take insurance? May I ask why not?" "Of course. You can ask anything, here. It's one way we try to be different. And, if you'd feel more comfortable talking to my wife, that can be arranged, as well." "Your wife?" "Jessica." He smiled. "This place was her idea. After years of being tormented by her own OB-GYN, she had the brilliant idea of opening this place." "But you're fully accredited." He smiled, even more openly. "Of course. Fully. But we're operating off the grid. We're... considered unethical. However, it's our belief that you can only be unethical if one party is unaware. So, we chat, and let you know exactly what happens, back there." He thumbed towards the beaded curtain. "I will have you read and sign a non-disclosure agreement, and a waiver saying you're fully aware of what's going on." He rose, went to the desk and came back with some papers that he passed to me. I felt a blockage in my throat. I had to noisily get it out of the way before I could answer. "So, what exactly does happen? Back there?" He noticed my low glass, picked the bottle up from behind the receptionist's counter, and poured. It was very good wine. And it was making me feel warm, tingly. And increasingly more accepting of this weird place. He returned to his seat, but leaned into me now, his elbows on his knees and his fingers tented. "We want our patients to not only feel completely at ease, but to also enjoy coming back. This benefits the patient. When you're relaxed and comfortable, examination is much easier, much more pleasant. Even more-so if you're slightly aroused." He had me up to that point. He was still talking, but my brain was tripping over the 'A' word. Aroused? I interrupted him. "Wait, aroused?" He smiled comfortingly. "That is completely up to you. It does make everything more enjoyable." I squirmed. Was I comfortable with that? What exactly did he have going on behind that curtain? Suddenly, his hand was on my knee, and it was warm and gentle and not at all intrusive. These were not traits usually possessed by lady doctors. At least, not for their patients. "There is no sex. You are fully awake and in control for the duration. I don't allow more than two glasses of wine." He took his hand back. My heart cried a little. "So how does it... help?" He sprawled back again, straightened his silver blue tie to lay over the buttons of his pale blue shirt. Everything matched his eyes, I realized. "By your being completely relaxed, feeling powerful in the situation, getting things lubricated. It really aids in examination." There was that pesky frog again. I cleared my throat. "How do you achieve... arousal?" "That's up to you. If that's the way you want to go, we have a private room. We encourage you to go in and do a little light reading, touch yourself, whatever you like. Or we can go straight into the examination room." And? my mind screamed. Out loud I said, "You said there's no sex-" "There isn't. But I can arouse you, if you like. Or Jessica can, if that's your preference. She can also be in the room as a witness. I encourage you to take your phone with you, keep it close. We're not hiding anything here, and want you to feel completely safe." I nodded. I licked my lips. Emily did it. She was pleased. She seemed to be. I nodded again, feeling a little like a bobble-head on a car dash. "I'm ready." "Straight in?" Again, with the nodding. I swigged the last swallow of wine. Dr. Rathbone led me to a room, and told me to undress and find a robe in the wardrobe. Then he left me to explore. It was much like the waiting room, except there was a very doctorly office chair on casters. The 'table' was more of a chaise lounge on long legs. The entire room was very Grecian, with candles, more incense and a switched off light on a long arm over the table. That and the wash station in the corner were really all that gave it away as a place of clinical examination. Strains of Mozart played softly all around. I opened the door of the ornate wardrobe, and found a robe in my size, in expensive, luxurious red silk, lined in black. There was also one in powder blue, and one in pink with black lace. But the red was me. I quickly undressed and donned it. I sat on the lounge and dangled my legs over; the room was deliciously warm. There was a soft blanket draped over the lounge; the answer to the crinkly white paper, perhaps. He came back, went to the sink and washed. No, scrubbed. Steam floated up from the water in silver clouds. I could smell roses and cinnamon and feel the silk sliding over my nipples. What is it about silk? It's sensuous. It molds to all the right things, and drips forgivingly off the rest. He came and stood in front of me. "So, Caitie, how are we feeling?" I smiled up at him. "Good." "Would you like Jessica to join us?" I shook my head. "Do you have your phone?" I showed it to him in my palm, and he smiled. "Good. So, are we going the arousal route?" I started to say no. I knew I should say no. But I felt my head bobbing again. He smiled his perfect smile, and his eyes crinkled. I felt completely at ease with him. Something about him screamed 'trustworthy.' I found it more than a bit ironic. "Lie back," he said. "Close your eyes. Listen to my voice. I'm going to tell you when and where I'll touch you before I do, okay? " I nodded. "Think sexy thoughts. Think about how feminine and beautiful your body is inside this silk. Think about what I'm seeing." My nipples peaked against the fabric and my breath had a shudder in it. The wine was already working between my legs. "I'm going to run my hands from your shoulders to your hips, over the robe. Is that okay?" I nodded, and when he touched me, I gasped softly. To my horror/pleasure, my body arched against his palms as he passed slowly over my breasts, and I quivered when I felt him over my ribs. "I'm going to open the robe and look at you. Stay in that sexy place. For you to feel safe, know that I'm looking at you as a doctor. But I'm also a man who can appreciate a beautiful woman." I felt the warm air on my skin, and I was wet. Embarrassingly so. I'm not sure I'd had a boyfriend yet who had had this affect on me. "I'm going to do the breast exam." He must have seen me tense slightly. "Sexy place, Caitie. You have beautiful, healthy breasts." I felt his palms lightly brush the sides. His hands were so warm and soft, with just a hint of roughness. He stroked lightly at first, around the contours of each one, sometimes brushing a nipple, sending a jolt of electricity through my clitoris. Then he was kneading more deeply, but still not causing any pain - in fact, I was wanting more, more contact. I felt something building, and I desperately wanted to touch myself. I wanted to come. Then he pinched first one nipple, then the other. He alternated with massaging, flicking and pinching, and I felt it coming, a soft release deep inside, and I shuddered and sighed with my head back. "Good girl," he said softly. "How did that feel?" "Mm," was all I could manage. "I'm going to put a sleep mask over your eyes, is that okay? I need to use the light, and it will help keep you centered." I nodded, felt the soft material over my eyes. I heard the click, and knew I was cruelly illuminated. He didn't give me time to dwell on it. "I'm going to touch your knees. And run my hands over your legs. This is to relax you. Then I'll ask you open for me. As wide as you want to. We don't do stirrups. Just imagine you're with your partner, and giving yourself to him. Can you do that, Caitie?" I hummed and nodded, and immediately felt his hands, just like he said. He stroked from my knees to my ankles. God, I was so glad I'd shaved. Then back up and down the tops of my thighs to my hips. His fingers brushed over my stomach, back to my thighs, back to my knees, and then he was urging me open. "Feel free to touch your breasts. Feel how sexy and beautiful you look. Feel how much you want to open to a lover right now." I vaguely wondered when the speculum came in, but I was lost in the sensations. I did as he said, felt the air over my wetness. "I'm going to touch you here. I'm going to part your lips and look, and I'll look as a doctor, but I also appreciate what a beautiful woman you are." Then I felt his fingers slipping, sliding against me. I felt myself spread open, and again, I wanted to come so badly. What was even more surprising was I wanted him to watch. But I kept my hands to the north, though I think I was fondling a breast. I forget. "Okay, Caitie, try to stay where you are. This is the fun part," there was an ironic smile in his words. "I'm going to put first one finger inside you, then two. It will feel very nice if you stay relaxed, and sexy. I have to feel you. And I'll ask you to bear down so that I can feel your cervix." Surprisingly, I felt his other hand on my belly just above my mound, pressing down gently but firmly. Then I felt him inside me. As aroused as I was, his movements did not feel sexual. It felt more like he was taking a tour of an art gallery, observing, taking in the vaginal sights. It was the hand on my stomach that was actually keeping me turned on. "Bear down on me, Caitie, good girl. Can you hold it there? Just for a moment." I felt him sweeping against me, slowly, thoroughly. "Very good. I'm going to pull out now. Very carefully." He moved painstakingly slowly, like he was deliberately trying to avoid making me come. "Do you want me to take a pap smear?" "Should I?" "It wouldn't hurt. While we're here." There was that smile again. I could hear it. I nodded. "I'll have to use the jaws." WHAT THE HELL?!?!?! "The jaws?" He laughed out right. "The speculum. Let me warm it." I heard water running. I started to tense. When he came back, he must have seen it. "Sexy place, Caitie. This is no larger than your partner would be. And I don't need to open far, just enough to get a swab in. Relax. Here," suddenly I felt his coat brush the insides of my thighs, and he was brushing his palms over my nipples again. I responded immediately with a new flush of heat and moisture. "Better?" "Mmmm," I bobbled. "Here we go, ready?" And his fingers were there, slipping against me. He introduced the device just like a cock. Slowly, in and out, letting my body adjust around it. Such a difference from having cold steel unceremoniously jammed into your love tunnel. "Pretend it is your partner, Emily. Work with it, relax." I did. And before I knew it he was gently removing it. I felt his hand on my thigh. "We're all done. I'm going to leave you alone for a little while. Take your time, and meet me out front when you're ready." And he was gone. I thought I should get up and get dressed. But it would only take a second... I was so close...

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