The Most Skilled Gynecologist
There are few things as awkward as a visit to the gynecologist. I always dread going, and I especially dread today. My old doctor moved to a practice in another town, so a new, unfamiliar set of hands would be pushing a cold speculum between my legs. Oh well. I hadn’t had many partners over the last year, but it was still good to get checked.
I sign in right on time and was almost immediately weighed and taken into the exam room. I answer the nurses questions, and once she leaves I take off my bottoms. It’s a struggle because my long acrylic nails make it hard to remove my pants. I haven’t been with anyone in quite a while, and the nails make it extremely hard to masturbate. I hate that sitting in that cool air with my pants off gets me a little turned on. I hope my doctor doesn’t notice.
She comes in and at first I’m struck by how pretty she is. She has short dark hair and thick glasses, but the glasses don’t detract from her looks. Instead, they highlight her soft features in contrast.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Bartley. How are you?”
I feel awkward. “Hi. I’m good!”
“Good.” She reviews the nurse’s notes. “So everything looks normal. Let’s get right into it then.” She flips down the stirrups and I lay back. The lubricated speculum goes in, she looks and swabs, then slides it it out.
“Good job, sweetheart. Now just sit tight for the manual exam. It will only be a few minutes.”
I naturally tighten when she tries to slide a finger in. She puts her other hand on my thigh to relax me, and then puts it in farther. I can’t lie that it feels extremely stimulating. The rubber glove on her hand creates friction and the upward curve of her finger strokes my g-spot. This feels much too good.
I don’t want to say anything just yet, but the exam is far more pleasurable than any I’ve had before. I can also swear her face is so close that her breath is tickling my outer labia. Her hand is still soft on my thigh as she wiggles her finger. The heat I feel lets me know that I’m probably visibly aroused down there. Just as I feel a tiny moan escape my lips, she stops.
“Looks great down there! And thank you for shaving. Most people don’t take the time. It makes everything so much easier.” Her soft, low voice makes her sound so credible, yet I know it was a weird thing to say. Oh well.
“Oh, almost forgot. You need a breast exam!” I’ve had these before too. Normally my doctor lets me put my pants back on, or at least take my legs out of the stirrups. However, she moves right in on me and unzips my hoodie. Underneath, I’m wearing a buttoned up crop top and a a bra that unsnaps in the front. She deftly undoes my shirt and clasp until I’m completely exposed. She then takes my arms, still in my sweatshirt sleeves, and puts them behind my head.
I expect her to touch my breasts first but her hands go to the top of my pubic bone. She then presses her fingertips up over my ovaries, then feels up my belly to my breasts. She then places both hands on my right breast first, pressing softly from the outside to the inside, tickling my areola. Her touch is soft and sensual, and she must know that she’s turning me on. When she gets to the nipple, I realize her touch feels so good because she’s not wearing gloves. Just the skin of her dainty hands on my breast. I don’t have huge ones, but her small fingers make them look much fuller. She still hasn’t made eye contact, looking down at me instead.
Her hands tickle again as they move to my left breast. She repeats the same motion, moving on to my nipples. She can’t be feeling for lumps at this point- she’s literally just petting and pinching me. I’m extremely wet now. I hope her glance doesn’t shift down because my clit is most likely visibly enlarged. Or maybe I wish she would notice and take care of it for me with her soft hands. I could probably cum from her just prodding me a little, but I can tell by her skillful manipulation of my breasts that she could do much more.
Suddenly, regrettably, the exam is over. She takes her hands away and finally meets my eyes. Her face is a little flushed. “Well that should be it then, sweetheart. Did you have any other questions for me? Anything I could do?”
I want to just overtly ask her to get me off, because it seems her intention, but instead I say, “Actually, I’ve had some trouble in the self-care area. Because of my fake nails, I can’t… you know… and vibrators just don’t satisfy me.” Fingers are usually the only way I can cum besides oral or having real sex and riding. I need to feel that concentrated pressure all over my clit or it’s not going to happen.
“Oh, you poor thing. I thought you were getting a little too excited during the exam. That must be why.” She says. What a bitch. To shame me after spending the last 15 minutes with her hands massaging the most sensitive spots on my body. Yet I still want her to finish things, I still feel so physically connected to her. I know she would make me cum.
Maybe in another life we’d have discovered each other on Tinder or made out at a party and spent countless hours pleasuring each other, maybe while a guy watched us and joined, maybe just her and me. Just as I think hope is lost and reach to put my bra back together, she puts one glove on and slips her hand back down, rubbing on my clit in slow, intense circles.
I gasp, and she shushes me. “Let’s be quiet, sweetheart. I wouldn’t want anyone thinking I was being innapropriate.” The doors are thin, so I hold in my noises of pleasure. The texture of the glove makes the experience that much more intense. It makes a soft, satisfying sound as she circles. The gentle, feminine touch would be enough to make me cum if she continued. Yet she decides to go back inside me, reaching with two fingers, much deeper than before.
She starts thrusting harder, prodding my g-spot repeatedly. I feel my pelvic muscles contract and my pleasure increases immensely. My body feels more and more tense and I start to quiver, right on the edge of an orgasm. “I’m so close,” I whisper, and on that cue, still fingering, she takes her left thumb and flicks my clit, the soft ticklish motion contrasting with her intense treatment of my inner center of pleasure. I cum, and feel more wetness rush out of me. It feels so good to cum after all those weeks that I let out one more gasp.
“Shhh,” she says, extracting her fingers from inside me while still gently stroking with her left hand. She places all four fingers over my clit and labia and keeps rubbing, up and down. Her contact is grounding and takes me back down, until my body is completely relaxed in satisfaction.
“Now,” she says, taking her hand away, “you’d better get dressed and get going. You’ve got me running late for my next appointment.” What a bitch. But I comply, still a little dazed, soaking my panties as I stand up and put them on. I turn towards the door, but the goodbye seems too awkward. However, she seems already completely done with me, so I open the door and walk down the hall to the checkout, as if nothing had happened at all.
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Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/av0v84/the_most_skilled_gynecologist_ff_medical_full