Chapter 7: Home Office

“Kim, I think we need to talk.”

“You know, we – you and I – we’ve started down a very strange path.”

“I’ve had the same kinds of thoughts, Rick. Except that we’re more than started – we’re already pretty far down that path.

“I mean, we haven’t hurt anyone, or at least, I don’t think we’ve hurt anyone – yet. Everyone so far...” and she didn’t say who the “everyone” was, “... everyone has been a willing...” she smiled a knowing, shared-secret kind of smile, “... a very willing participant. And you know as well as I do that some of them have come in knowing what was what, and practically asking – in fact, some have outright asked – for us to do what we’ve done. So, no, I don’t feel bad in that respect.

“On the other hand, we’re way off the reservation, professionally and in terms of the law – we’re running some serious risks with what we’ve been doing – at least so far.

“But the thing is, ... I like what we do, the things that we’ve done,” she smiled that sultry smile at me, “and I’m pretty sure that you do, to.” and she leaned over and squeezed my cock. “I haven’t gotten so excited, gotten so turned-on, since ... I don’t think I’ve ever been as turned on as I have these past couple of months, with ... with our patients.

“The truth is, Rick – I don’t want to stop. It’s reached the point where every time the phone rings, or every time a new appointment pops up on the website, I get a little twitch down there, and my pussy begins to tingle, and I wonder – is this another one ... you know, another one of those... ”

I had to ask her. “So, what do we do, Kim? You’re right – wrong as it is, and all the risks we’re taking, I don’t want it to stop, either. So, ... what do we do?”

“I’ve been thinking about it, though, and one thing I can think of, something we can try is, if we think it’s ‘safe’ – I mean, if we think they’re interested – or maybe ‘curious’ – then we might want to try and get the mother involved. Somehow, I think that if the mother was involved, somehow, it’s like, I don’t know, kind of like ‘insurance,’ like ‘what’s she gonna do that wouldn’t expose her, too?’”

I thought it over. “That makes sense, sort of.” Then another thought. “Dads, too, for that matter, although we haven’t had one yet.” I paused. “But I guess it’s just a matter of time before that happens, too?”

Kim just smiled. “I don’t know about you, Rick, but talking about this has got me horny.” She looked down at my midsection, at the tent that had formed in my sweatpants. “Correction – I guess I do know about you.” She scooted down in the bed and pulled my sweatpants down my thighs, then wet one – then two – fingers and worked them into my ass, then bent down and took my cock into her mouth and sucked and jerked and reamed me ‘til I unloaded what felt like a gallon of cum in her mouth. She waited until I’d stopped cumming, then straightened up and put her lips on mine, and I relaxed my lips and we shared a big, spermy kiss.

Kim and I were spending more and more evenings together, always after those days when we’d enjoyed a “treatment session” with a “special” patient, of course, but other days, too.

We shared a special interest, of course. I don’t think either of us could find partners who would be on-board with the kinds of things we do at the office.

But we’ve discovered that we also have a lot of other things in common. Most obvious, our personalities and interests brought both of us to the field of pediatric medicine, and it was a calling for both of us – even without the “special benefits” we derive from some of our more insistent patients.

We also share an interest in sports and outdoor activities. You already knew about Kim’s years of playing soccer, both in high school and on her college varsity team. What you didn’t know is that I was a “star” on my high school baseball team, and although I was never good enough to make my college team, I’ve played in several amateur softball leagues (at least, once I’d finished my residency and actually had time to have a life). It turns out that we both like to bowl, and we’ve also gone camping together several times.

Neither of us smoke, and we both enjoy a glass of wine with a meal or a couple of beers with tacos and fajitas.

And we find that we are sexually compatible. And I’m not referring just to the enjoyment we derive from our more inquisitive, adventurous patients – we also enjoy more “traditional” sorts of sexual stimulation. I’m about three inches taller than Kim, so our bodies fit together nicely.

Finally, we had “the talk,” and we decided that we should sell our condos and buy a house together. We thought that it should be somewhere in the same vicinity as our pediatric practice, and that maybe we should get a place that gave us the option of having an office at our home. We finally found a place that was right for us, one where the zoning regulations permit owners to have a small business office at home, just so long as there are no outside signs and that clients or customers only come one at a time, so there can’t be any “waiting rooms.”

And that brings me to our next patient...

Two days later we got a call at the office.

“Doctor Scott’s office?” Hesitant, uncertain about ... something.

“Yes, this is Dr. Scott’s office. This is Kim, Dr. Scott’s nurse. How can I help you?”

“I’m Mrs. _________ – my daughter Ali is a patient of yours?” ending with an up-note, like she was asking a question.

Kim replied, almost as a reflex, “Yes – Ali is a favorite patient of ours.”

“So I’ve heard.” This response caught Kim completely off-guard.

She took a beat to regain her composure, then asked, “Are you calling about Ali?

“Yes – well, not exactly. My daughter’s told me that your treating her for her ‘inverted clitoris.’”

Kim gasped, thinking uh-oh – this might be it. Finally, an outraged parent who was going to blow the lid off our “non-standard” treatment practices, and all the repercussions that would follow...

But before Kim’s panic could get control of her, the woman added, “I think I might be suffering from the same problem ... condition ... the same thing that Ali has...” She hesitated, like she was trying to find the right words for what to say next. “Well, ... I was wondering, ... I was thinking ... would it be possible ... for me to come in and see you ... for ... for a consultation?”

Now Kim had to do a lot of calculating. No, it didn’t sound like this woman – Ali’s mom – was outraged, so that worry was gone, at least for the moment. But what about the other part – this adult woman, the mother of our patient, apparently requesting us to give her the same “treatment” that we give her teenage daughter. In plain language, she was calling to make an appointment to get her pussy eaten. How did we want to respond to this entirely new complication – or possibility.

Kim responded by saying that ours is strictly a pediatric practice and that we don’t see adults here. But then she remembered – our new home – and office – space.

“In fact, though, Doctor does have a modest consulting office at his home...” At this point Kim decided it might be better if I were the one to talk. She leaned her chair back and looked down the hall to see if I was in the office, then said, “Perhaps it would be best if you talk with Dr. Scott himself. Hold on and I’ll transfer you to his office.”

Kim put the woman on hold and came into the office where I was catching up on patient charts.

“Rick – you’re not going to believe this. It’s Ali’s mom, and she ‘thinks she has the same condition as Ali’ and wants to come in for a ‘consultation.’ Maybe it’d be best if you handle this, OK?”

I picked up the handset and pressed the blinking button on the phone.

“Hello, this is Dr. Scott. And just to be sure, who am I speaking with?”

The woman answered, “Hello, Doctor – I’m Mrs. Jurgens – my daughter, Ali, is a patient of yours?”

To make a long story short, she repeated essentially what Kim had told me, concluding with the same question: could she come in to receive the same kind of “treatment” that her daughter has received several times with so much success.

I repeated what Kim had told her about ours being a pediatric practice, “ ... but since you are a member of the patient’s – Ali’s – immediate family, I think we can make an exception and arrange to see you, but at our home office – I’m sure you can understand why.”

Yes, I was quite sure she could understand why.

So we arranged a time for the “consultation.” I gave her the address and emphasized that she should not be early because we weren’t allowed to have a waiting room.

She understood, but then asked, “One more thing – will your nurse, what’s her name – Kim? Will she be there, also?”

“She can be, if you want her to.”

“I think I want her to be there, yes.”

I hung up the phone and exhaled a huge breath, and Kim and I looked at each other.

“You said that maybe if we can get a parent involved, or at least get their silent approval, that would make some of the things we do a little safer – give us some insurance over the situation. Well, it’s happened. Or, at least, it looks like it’s going to happen – and a lot sooner than we thought.”

Kim thought for a moment. “Yup, that’s my take on it. I don’t think there’s any way we could be mistaking this – Ali’s mom wanted to have her pussy get the same treatment her daughter’s does. And it sounds like she definitely wants me to be involved in her treatment.”

She stopped, looked at me for a moment, and a wicked smile crept across her lips. “Does that turn you on, Rick? The idea of getting to watch me, bending over, eating out Ali’s mom’s snatch?”

I pulled her down to me, then onto my lap, and I slid my hand up her white nurse’s dress and slipped three fingers into her oozing cunt and fingered her to a bucking orgasm.

It was Thursday night – her suggestion – “It’s my book club night.” At 8:03, the side-door buzzer buzzed. Kim opened it to find a woman in a beige knit skirt suit standing there, looking like someone who was wondering if she had the correct address.

Kim opened the door and gave the woman her warmest smile. “Hi – I’m Kim, Dr. Scott’s nurse – you and I spoke on the phone when you called for an ... appointment?” I was impressed at how Kim managed to insinuate a question into her simple statement. “Please, come in.” The woman followed Kim’s invitation, and now we were able to get a better look at her.

I moved up behind Kim and extended my hand. “Hi, I’m Rick Scott, Ali’s doctor. We’re happy you came tonight.”

I had chosen my words very carefully – “Rick” Scott, not “Doctor” Scott; “Ali’s doctor” – not your doctor: “happy” you came; and “tonight” – this visit is for the kinds of things people do with each other at night.

One look and it was obvious that this woman was Ali’s mother. Same cheekbones, same chin, same hazel eyes, same abundant reddish-brown auburn hair. Her expensive-looking knit suit displayed a trim physique – narrow hips, a trim but nicely rounded ass, and breasts that, while not large, filled out the suit jacket quite nicely.

Yes, all in all, a very attractive woman for an evening consultation.

“Hello – I’m Alonna Jurgens – please call me ‘Lonni.’ she said, as she accepted my offered hand, holding it a beat longer than would be appropriate for a professional greeting. Kim noticed this and smiled.

I showed her into our never-before-used home office and had her sit down and tell us again “what brings you here tonight?” I wanted to be absolutely sure before I took this to where we – Kim and I – thought it was going. Mrs. Jurgens’ – Lonni’s – responses were consistent with what she’d told us when we talked with her on the phone.

“Doctor, my daughter Ali and I are very close, and she’s shared with me the ‘condition,’ I guess you’d call it, that she suffers from, and she’s also described the excellent treatments that you’ve given her, and how much better she feels afterward. The thing is, I think that I might have the same condition that Ali does – maybe it’s genetic, and she inherited it from me.”

Then she paused, like she was waiting to see my reaction to her self-diagnosis. I nodded understandingly. Yes, I’m sure that’s a terrible problem.

“My husband used to help me with this ‘condition,’ but he ... well, let’s just say that he’s – how can I put it – ‘discontinued his practice.’”

Assuming a sympathetic attitude, I said, “I’m sure that this must be very... frustrating ... for you. In that case, let’s get started. Normally, we’d have you put on a hospital examination gown, but since we don’t have all our supplies yet, we could have you wear one of Kim’s dressing gowns – would that be OK?” Without waiting for her to answer, Kim left the room and came back almost immediately with a robe (one that we’d selected earlier, anticipating just this situation) – a short satin number, bright red, to further complete the message that this wasn’t going to be just another doctor visit.

“I have to apologize, Lonni. Kim and I have just begun using this office and all our equipment hasn’t arrived yet, and that includes a regular examination table like the kind we’d normally use for something like this.” Then I added, suggestively, I hoped, “A table like we use for your daughter’s treatments.” I paused to let the implication sink in. “I know this isn’t very professional, but the only thing we have that’s suitable for the kind of examination and treatment I think you’ll want is a bed. So, would you mind going into the bedroom...?” Not our bedroom, but the bedroom – less personal, more ‘neutral.’ Would that be OK – would you mind very much if we moved in there?”

Lonni smiled, almost a smirk. “I think that might be a very... appropriate thing to do.”

Nope, no mistaking things now.

“Good. Kim will show you the bedroom and I’ll join you in a moment. Kim...?”

Now it was Kim’s turn to help set the tone. Holding out the tiny folded gown, she said, “Here, Dear, we...,” we, “can change in the bedroom,” and led her to the bedroom – her arm lightly on Lonni’s waist. Nice touch, Kim.

I came into the bedroom to find Lonni wearing Kim’s shorty gown – and Kim, standing there admiring her. Lonnie’s knit suit and blouse hung on wood hangers on the wall hooks, and it appeared that Kim had remained in the room all the time that Lonni was undressing and changing into the gown.

If Lonni was surprised to find the bedspread and covers already removed and folded in a corner she didn’t say anything.

Kim was still wearing her white cotton-blend nurse’s dress, in the event that we needed to maintain the pretense that this was a professional office visit. Lonni looked at her. “Won’t that uniform interfere with your ability to help in the treatment, Kim? Wouldn’t it be easier if you took it off and put on something like what I’m wearing?”

Kim looked at me and smiled, surprised – and pleased – that our new “un-patient” was so eager. I wasn’t sure how long we needed to maintain this doctor-patient-treatment charade. It was Kim who brought everything into the open.

“Doctor – Rick – I think you’ll be delighted at how thoughtfully our new patient has prepared for her exam.” Smiling, she turned to “our new patient.” “Lonni, why don’t you show Rick how you prepared for the exam tonight?”

Lonni smiled at Kim, like the two shared a secret. She undid the loosely-tied sash so the brief gown fell open – to reveal a deep crimson lace half-cup bra and matching garter belt – and what appeared to be a freshly trimmed pussy, with glistening coral petals peeking through. And in the light I could see the dew that was already forming on those petals

Kim had already placed several pillows against the headboard, and Lonni got on the bed and leaned back on the pillows. “Well, Doctor Rick, are we ready to begin the examination?”

Hell, yes, we were ready!

Like Kim, I originally dressed to maintain the pretense that this was an “official” doctor visit, and by that I mean I wore my white smock with my name and “MD” embroidered on the pocket. So when Lonni proposed that we begin the examination, I removed the smock, leaving me in a soft short-sleeved pullover that afforded me lots of room to move...

Which is exactly what I did – right between those spread thighs and that perfectly trimmed bush, right to those glistening, fleshy coral lips. And now I didn’t have to practice restraint like I usually do with our “regular” clitorally-inverted patients. Those are young girls, and despite the inappropriate intimacies, they still see me as their doctor, and they still trust me with their physical well-being.