Twice a year, my wife Harriett sees her gynecologist. It's the closest thing we have to a sex life: someone sees her naked pussy and I pay the bill. She doesn't say a word about it, and I figure no news is good news. Although, if she had a sexually transmitted disease, I was safe anyway. This time, after her visit to good Doctor Everhardt showed up in the online recap of recent charges, she had something to say. "Harvey, Dr. Everhardt prescribed some creme for my, uh, privates."
Too bad it wasn't the spermy creme from my cock. "Is there something wrong?"
"I don't think so. He detected the beginning of a rash. He ran out of free samples when I was at his office, but his receptionist called and said they'd just received some. Doesn't it make sense to try it before buying it?"
That was the mistake I'd made. Harriett and I had deferred sex until after we were married. She insisted. Only after we tied the knot did I find out how disinterested she was.
"So, on the way home tomorrow, could you stop by his office and pick up the sample?"
Now, Dr. Everhardt's office is hardly on the way. It's at least ten or so miles west of my normal route, and then another ten back. "Why can't you do it?" It was a fair question.
Harriett put her hands on her hips. "I have a volunteers' meeting for the local refuse committee."
I was going to quip, "Oh, that garbage?" but that would get her angry, and we'd have another fight. I was smart enough to pick my fights, and this wasn't worth it. Her errand was just something else to get between the end of my workday and a home-cooked meal. With her meeting, reheated grub sounded certain. And when Harriett cooked anything at all, ordering out was forbidden. "Sure. What's the address?"
Harriett gave me Dr. Everhardt's card with all of the relevant details.
So the next day after work I redirected myself to the doctor's office. I thought about Harriett's rash and the creme. Lord knows, she won't let me apply the stuff. Not even my finger can get close to her pussy. God, celibacy is hell. My thoughts turned to the two babysitters who it had been my privilege to fuck. [NOTE: Ditz the Babysitter and Who Loves Ya', Baby(Sitter)] Oh yes, and the second one's mother. But that had been months ago, and my growing stash of Penthouse Forum magazines and the occasional British tabloid Mayfair had been inadequate substitutes for the real thing. I'd even concocted fantasies about some of the women at work, intimate affairs that would never come to pass. The fastest way to getting fired is screwing around with co-workers.
I parked easily, since the Medical building was closing up for the night. All reasonable people, doctors and patients alike, had gone home. As I opened the door, a young woman scurried past. A hint of whites beneath her coat made me believe she was a nurse or something. The waiting room of Dr. Everhardt's office was empty.
Just as I tapped the little silver bell on the counter, a tall man in a lab coat escorted a dumpy middle-aged female from the back. "See you in six months," said the handsome gent.
Dr. Everhardt, I presumed. Curly dark hair, square jaw with a cleft, and a classic Roman nose. Could have been a movie star. Probably popular with his female patients. My mind leapt to a projected fantasy, Dr. Everhardt standing between some patient's spread thighs, a warm, inviting vagina staring him straight in the face. What willpower he must have to deal with temptations of the flesh.
Doc looked at me. Odd to see a man in his office. I was about to tell him who I was and why I was there when the door swung open. A tall woman strode in on spike heels, a thin beige coat over a plain red dress. "Sorry I'm late. Traffic was a bitch!" She was extremely tan, too dark to be natural. A tanning salon was a sure bet. Her current condition - older, more wrinkles - couldn't hide her previous youthful beauty. She was still in good shape, although her hips had spread and her ass was a bit too full. Too many different blonde streaks in her brunette hair, pulled back into a bun.
Doc turned his attention from me to the new arrival. "You are?"
"Ruth Needham-Cohen. I'm your six o clock."
Her hips were on automatic, jutting this way, then that. She may have parked her car, but her engine was running, that was for sure.
Doc looked down at a bound paper calendar on the receptionist's desk. "We're going to have to reschedule. My nurse is gone and I-"
"That's okay, I trust you."
I stood there, out of the loop. Harriett's sample was in a small white bag next to the appointment calendar. I couldn't just take it and leave. "Excuse me, I just need to pick up-"
"Shaddup!" Needham-Cohen shouted. "I have an appointment. Obviously, you don't." She turned to the doctor. "Which examination room are we going to use?"
"I'm very glad I have your trust, but there are laws," said Doc. "A nurse must be present for examinations. You understand - a male doctor alone with a female patient. It's for your protection."
"But I don't need protection." Her voice had more of an edge, like a parent trying not to scold a child while scolding a child. Her hands were fists. Her bouncy happy demeanor had become hostile, like a child not getting her way. She must really need someone to check out her "privates", as Harriett would say. I decided to leave before she got angry and took it out on me. The scorn of Harriett would be easier to accept than the wrath of this stranger. She was clearly hostile and dangerous, though I had only experienced her for only a few minutes. I headed for the door.
"One moment, please, I'll be right with you," said the doctor. I stopped in my tracks. He resumed speaking to the bitch. "As I said, for your protection and to obey state laws, there must be someone present."
"Someone, hmm?" Needham-Cohen looked at me. "Can it be anybody? Like him?"
She didn't have to point. I was the only 'him' in the vicinity. "Huh?"
"That would be quite unusual. Normally, it's one of my nurses-"
"But he'll do, right? As a witness?" Needham-Cohen's smile returned.
"If you insist, this gentleman could be in the room, if he doesn't mind-"
Up to now, my services as a voyeur hadn't been cleared with me. The idea of seeing this woman getting examined while naked was quite titillating. And, I'd get to witness Dr. Everhardt's style, how he handled his patients. But I didn't belong there, I still had to drive home, my stomach was past ready for dinner, even a reheat of one of Harriett's creations. "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. My last name is Marcus, and you have a sample for my wife."
Doc handed me the small white bag and smiled, his teeth gleaming white. "Send her my regards."
Needham-Cohen took off her coat, waddled over, hips swaying, and grabbed my shoulder. She kept her voice low while Doc disappeared down the hall towards what I presumed were exam rooms and his office. "I bribed the nurse to go home sick so I could be alone with the doctor. Now it's all screwed up, unless you cooperate."
I looked at the empty corridor. Doc was certainly a desirable catch. "I'm sure you can find another way. Ask him out for a drink?"
"Don't be an idiot. I'm here to get laid, not exchange pleasantries over Chablis. I made a bet with the women in my book club. Big money is riding on this, and I'm not about to lose. So you'll stay, or else."
The threat was vague, which made it questionable and compelling at the same time. What could she do to me?
The crow's feet around her eyes tightened. "I'm going to undress and seduce the doctor. You just observe and don't say a word. Got it?"
Needham-Cohen was a determined and hard woman. The doctor deserved better, but who was I to pass up the chance to see someone else have sex? At least this time, I'd be an observer, not a participant, unlike my sexual encounters with the two babysitters. And one mother.
She flounced over to the counter and smashed the bell. Dr. Everhardt came out. "Are you still here? As I said, I have to close the office."
"He's agreed to observe." Ruth bent over and moaned. "Please, doctor, it's very important. Please." Her red dress sagged, the scoop neckline showing some cleavage, the back stretched taut across her ass. She wore a thong, the thin lines of which were clear beneath the tight garment.
"And you're willing to have this stranger observe?" he asked.
"Yes, anyone, please, I'm suffering."
"Is it true? You agree to this - this - procedure?" he asked me.
"Very well." Everhardt led us back to a dimly lit examination room. He pointed. "You can undress behind the screen. There are fresh gowns-"
Ruth had already started to disrobe, reaching behind to unzip the dress. "Give me a hand," she asked me.
The doctor was shocked but turned away to gather his instruments and stuff on a stainless steel tray. "All right. The quicker we get prepared, the quicker we can all go home."
I assisted with the zipper. Doc didn't know that she would be demanding a home run before anybody left. Was I really going to see Harriet's gynecologist fuck this woman? The red dress fell to the floor, leaving Ruth in bra and thong. There were hints of cellulite in her thighs, but she was in very good shape for a woman of her age. Much better than Harriett, although I hadn't seen Harriett naked in a very long time.
Ruth removed her bra. Her breasts sagged a bit, milky, although she certainly wasn't nursing an infant at her age. Her skin was dark except for light patches on her breasts and across her lower stomach, where she'd worn a minimal bikini in the tanning bed.
.... There is more of this story ...