Trust Me, I'm a Professional!

Posted by: Author: Age: 27 Posted on: 1 comments
0 likes 1510 views Category: Female-Male Tags: diane

 

I'm a P. A. (Physician's Assistant) at a dermatology practice-which simply means I help the doctor treat patients with skin disorders. Being medically trained and licensed by the state, I must comply with the same regulatory laws and code of ethics as a physician. So when I examine a patient, another medical professional must be present in the room during the entire exam. Now here's where I encountered a little 'situation', in a single lapse of judgment.



Here's a candid admission: You see, hiding behind my facade of a demure and pretty, intelligent and successful P. A., beats the hot pulse of a VERY horny young chick who barely has control over her lustful impulses.



Since age 12 I've been a slave to my orgasms . . . gotta have at least one a day to keep my sanity!



At the slightest sexy thought or erotic provocation, my heartbeat increases, my nipples begin to feel tight, and a delicious sensation of warmth engulfs my entire genital area. It's difficult to put into words, but there's a 'sweet' feeling spreading through my pussy that I cannot possibly ignore. I can actually detect my clit enlarging and becoming super sensitive, begging to be touched or licked. By then my pussy is beginning to get very wet, at which point I will be pulled helplessly and inexorably toward seeking a fulfilling climax. I do have the ability to hold off the orgasm for hours, but my mind and all my being are held captive by my pulsating twat until I release them through an explosion from down below!



(Naturally, with such a high libido, I have a sizeable selection of toys at my disposal, but nothing does the trick quite like my Sybian.)



Now that you know a little about me, here's what happened that memorable morning during a patient's exam, when the pulsations emanating from my seething snatch overcame my mind's ability to act in an appropriate manner.



That fateful day the doctor was out of the office and I there I was only with our office manager and our nurse, Angela. (Angela is in her early stage of pregnancy and is subject to morning sickness.)



Mr. M. was a new patient who had come in for a skin check-a full body evaluation to locate suspicious skin lesions that could potentially be cancerous.



He was a tall, athletic guy who had an unremarkable face but a pleasant smile, appearing to be many years younger than his age of 46. When questioned about the reason for his visit, he responded that his wife of many years had recently died of cancer. She had failed to notice a malignant melanoma in its early stages, and it quickly spread to her internal organs. She was dead within a year. He felt compelled to seek a personal skin evaluation for his own peace of mind. I sympathized with him for his loss.



As I completed the inital patient evaluation form, I learned that he was an avid runner and swimmer, and he worked out at a gym a couple of times a week. Then he casually mentioned something that caught me off guard . . . he had a lot of pent-up energy resulting from his athletic activities, and he quietly remarked he hadn't had sex with anyone in the past two years.



His simple statement set off an internal alarm as I felt my pulse quicken and my nipples tingle. Was I actually getting turned on during a medical interview with a stranger old enough to be my father? I'm a professional, immune to these longings, am I not? This had never happened before in my two-year career, yet I had to admit that the majority of our patients were senior citizens, most of whom were out of shape, fat and unattractive. (I, myself, hadn't been in a sexual relationship with anyone in over a year, leaving my perpetually aroused puss in a heightened sense of alert!)



Nevertheless, I maintained my professional demeanor, trying not to exhibit my state of arousal, and asked him to get undressed for the exam. (My heartbeat increased.) He asked if he should keep his underwear and socks on and I told him no, handing him the obligatory paper gown to put on.



A few minutes later nurse Angela took a seat in the examining room with me and began working on some paperwork while I adorned rubber gloves in preparation for the exam. Mr. M. seemed ill-at-ease, trying to cover himself, as most patients do, wearing that ridiculous paper sack.



I asked him to please lie on his stomach and I immediately noticed that his muscular legs and back were clean shaven-probably because of his swimming.



With a lighted magnifying glass attached to my forehead, I began the procedure of examining every square inch of his body in the prescribed formulated fashion. When I asked him to spread his legs, I could see his very hairy ass and balls clearly; that part of his anatomy was definitely unshaven. He squirmed, uncomfortably, at my every touch and I detected a quickening in his breathing to match my own.



Nurse Angela suddenly jumped up muttering she had to leave the office for a few minutes. (She had been having a difficult pregnancy, coping with bouts of morning sickness.) My exam continued.



I told my M. I would need to shave his buttocks to be able to see the skin more clearly. He was not expecting this turn of events and asked me if this course of action were really necessary. With calm authority I explained that cancerous skin lesions could be found anywhere on the body, including areas that never saw the light of day. He cautiously relented, and I gently shaved the area, then spread his cheeks quickly to observe.



My pulse was now in 'race' mode.



I checked his back, shoulders, neck, all the while feeling more and more turned on, anticipating what I was going to ask of him next.



He said not a word, but his breathing was becoming more rapid now.



I asked, 'Mr. M., would you prefer to continue the exam now or wait for the nurse to return?' He indicated that he just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible and asked me to go ahead.



He turned over, making certain the gown covered his privates. Yet there was no mistaking the sizeable erection that protruded like a tent pole holding up the flimsy paper material. I examined his toes, ankles, calves and reached his upper thighs when he blurted out, 'I am so embarrassed, please forgive me!'. My voice was shaky and breathless as I asked him to please relax, everything was OK so far.



As I lifted the gown, exposing his gorgeous huge hunk of tube steak, he gasped but said nothing.



'Mr. M., I'm going to need to shave here, as well, so please just lie still.' Panic was beginning to set in because my hand was shaking and I could feel that familiar, yet uncontollable sweetness beginning to sweep through my groin. My engorged clit pressed against the sheer fabric of my thong panties, encased by liquid slowly seeping from my swollen pussy lips. This was not good!



His body became rigid while I softly touched his turgid tool to move it around while shaving the entire genital area. Through my magnifying glass I could see thick, clear pre-cum oozing from the tip of his dick, cascading down the shaft. I was totally, absolutely overcome with lust. His hips were slowly moving up and down; he moaned quietly. My hips, I discovered to my horror, were rotating with a mind of their own, humping the side of the examination table, rolling my ultra-sensitive clit out of the side of my panties.



The situation was truly getting serious. Then Mr. M. whispered three words that caused my breath to catch in my throat, 'Please touch me!'



You can probably appreciate the dilemma I faced:



Nurse Angela could walk in at any second and I could see my job, career and license to practice blown to oblivion. Within the course of a moment, I calculated my options.



1. I could Tell Mr. M. the exam was complete, that all was OK and to please get dressed, and then leave.



2. I could pull my skirt up and shove panties aside, and impale my sopping pussy on his pumping prick.



3. I could put vaseline on my gloves and pull his pleading pud to orgasm.



4. I could wrap my lips around his succulent member, silken swirling it to a happy ending.



Now, fellow masturbators, unfortunately, you'll have to wait a couple of weeks before I have time to finish my story. In the meantime, if anyone cares to share with me how they would handle this situation, please feel free to do so!



Now I MUST go take matters into my own hands!

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