Going to the doctor is never one of my favorite tasks, but when you are having some health issues, it becomes necessary. Turning forty was fun, but turning forty-five had become a real case of hemorrhoids, figuratively, of course. Still, the prognosis was good and I had a health care professional that believed in getting people well, not just prescribing drugs, performing surgeries, and running up huge medical bills.
My doctor was a believer in nutrition and health, so his first reaction to my complaints was to do a series of tests that would actually reveal my complete medical history. The tests involved all the normal bodily fluids plus a few I was not expecting. All in all, it was not an unpleasant experience and promised to reveal all the problems and how to get well.
The doctor's office called and set-up "The Big Appointment", the one where I would have all of the truth revealed and discover how expensive and how expansive the treatment would be. Much to my surprise, the doctor was impressed with the test results and told me I could expect to be feeling better within a few weeks. First, though, I would have to be prepared to be in his office every week for treatments until the tests returned clear and I was feeling better.
So early every Monday morning I started my week by going to the doctor's office for treatments that included an IV and a full regimen of minor tests. The entire process took about half a day, so I was on my way to work after lunch, most of the time wondering if it was going to do any good. But, my trusted doctor had a phenomenal reputation, so I religiously (and with a good attitude) arrived early and did as I was told.
What made my Monday mornings better were the nurses. They were all young, pretty, and looked so nice in those thin scrubs. And they knew how to make the day nice by distracting the male patients with a little scenery as they installed the IV, taking time to chit-chat and touch even when it was unnecessary.
The procedure was simple: sign-in, go to the treatment room, weigh-in, take vitals, then have a seat and wait until they called your name for your turn to get your IV installed. Then you have a seat in a nice comfy recliner, drink some juice and water, eat a few healthy snacks, and read, relax, or even sleep while the IV slowly drips.
Not an entirely bad way to spend a Monday morning.
I heard her call my name and headed to the room where chairs were set-up to make it easy to do the IVs. I sat down and placed my forearm on the narrow table to my right or left, leaving my hand hanging over the edge. A double-folded clean towel made it soft and comfy. The nurse sat on a stool at the table, taking your hand and going thru the procedure of finding the best place to insert the IV needle. Sometimes they would have to lean up to reach gauze, tape, or other necessary items, and more often than not, the nurse's scrub blouse would caress my hand.
One of the young nurses was a very pretty, green-eyed beauty, about five-foot six, with shoulder-length, thick, shiny, dark auburn hair, and with what had been a killer body. Even now, with a baby-belly testifying to her advanced state of pregnancy, she was absolutely gorgeous. Her smile could melt an atheist and turn him into a righteous believer! She became my favorite nurse the first time she gave me my IV.
We were chit-chatting as she prepared to insert the IV needle. Needing an extra gauze pad, she reached to the narrow shelf over the table. As she did, the palm of my hand was introduced to her round baby belly. She immediately apologized, blushing slightly.
"Don't apologize," I whispered. "No harm done." Except that between the sweet aroma of her perfume, our closeness, the firm warmth of her belly, and her sensual charm, I was definitely going to have to stay seated for a moment to recover, lest I be embarrassed by the sudden and unexpected response from a particular part of my anatomy.
Smiling, she looked me in the eyes and commented, "My baby-belly is starting to get in the way sometimes."
"That's OK. I didn't mind."
She smiled, blushing again, and leaned over to carefully insert the needle into my arm. As she did, the top of her scrub blouse opened and I was treated to a view of two absolutely tantalizing breasts being held up in an obviously too-small bra. My eyes stayed locked on them as she breathed slowly and deeply, her concentration and breathing causing them to expand and retract wondrously. I swear I think I saw a nipple peaking out as she finished and sat-up straight.
I looked up as my scenic vista disappeared, our eyes meeting.
"Sorry, again!" she whispered, a smile joining her deep blush. One of her hands was still on my arm just above the heavily taped entry point of the IV and the fingers of her other hand slipped into my hand, a momentary touch that radiated with sexual tension. My fingers embraced her fingers in a slight squeeze, letting her know that I recognized what was flowing between us.
.... There is more of this story ...