Naomi's Journal No. 30 - Doctor's Visit - Cover

Naomi's Journal No. 30 - Doctor's Visit

by Naomi

Copyright© 2022 by Naomi

Fiction Sex Story: It's time for Naomi's annual gyno-exam, and she's not looking forward to it. Turns out, though, that the exam is exceptionally satisfying. Illustrated.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult   Consensual   Fiction   Doctor/Nurse   Illustrated   .


Well, I guess it’s time. Every year, I have to do it, and there’s just no putting it off any longer. Grandma called to remind me, but I still didn’t want to go, even though I knew it’s for the best. But it’s so hard to break in a new gynecologist!

Grandma reminded me that I needed a full exam this time, not just a quickie, like a high school exam I got the last time. Of course, the doctor who gave me my exam last time was on his way out. He was in the process of selling his practice and going to another city to be a part of a larger clinic. That clinic was getting larger every month it seemed, buying out practices in all of the smaller towns and forcing everyone to go to their clinics in the larger towns. I guess I was lucky that the doctor who bought out the old doctor didn’t want to be a part of an assembly-line clinic. At least, I hoped I was lucky.

I had made the appointment a month ago, timing it so that I would be at least a week after my period. Nils and I had breakfast when I announced that I had to go take a shower to get ready for my exam.

Normally, Nils is very detached in the mornings, thinking about his day and what he had to do. Today, he didn’t seem to be so distracted and asked, “Want me to come along?”

“No,” I replied. “It’s with a new gynecologist. I don’t think you’d be very interested or entertained.”

“Not what I meant,” he said. “Want me to come along and take a shower with you?” He waggled his eyebrows at me.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I’m running a little late as it is. I need to clean up from last night. I don’t want to be stinky for the new doctor!”

“OK,” he said and took his dishes to the sink.

I went into the ensuite attached to the master bedroom and took off my robe. As I was getting the water regulated, I felt hands on my hips. “I’ll help you get squeaky-clean,” he said, and stepped into the shower.

Well, what could I do? I climbed in under the spray. “Try to behave yourself,” I chided.

He pushed me a little further under the spray, getting my hair wet. Well, I wasn’t planning on washing my hair, but his hands on my scalp felt luscious, so I guess washing my hair was part of the program after all. He rinsed my hair and put the conditioner on it, still massaging me deliciously.

While that was setting in, he turned me towards him, took the soap, and started washing my front. I always enjoy his hands on me, no matter what, but in the shower, it was a luxury I always loved. He soaped up my shoulders first, then moved down each arm, making sure that my armpits were clean. Of course, that tickled, but I endured it because I knew that he’d next move down my sides to my legs.

He squatted there in the shower and lifted each leg as he washed it. He always made sure my feet were cleaned, even between each toe. He didn’t tickle my feet so much as he massaged each instep. Believe me, it was heavenly. He’d then work his way back up my legs up to my abdomen where he washed my tummy then worked on my breasts, rubbing them, and tweaking my nipples. As slippery as they were with the soap, he could not get a good grip, but it still felt great. It was almost as good as when he sucked on them!

He turned me around and rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, then started working his way down my back with the soap. I had to put my arms out to steady myself as he moved his hands around my back. He pushed hard on certain muscles, then used his fingernails lightly, making swirling designs in the soap on my back.

He moved further down and massaged the small of my back before moving down to my buttocks, squeezing them, lifting them, and then letting them bounce back. He returned to the small of my back, and used the heels of his hands to really rub on the area just above where my butt smoothed into my back. Oh, that made my knees weak!


Then, after rubbing the soap heavily between his hands, he reached between my legs and started washing me there. He rubbed around my rectum, lightly pushing his finger into my anus, moving it around, and then removing it. The stimulation he had started with tweaking my nipples continued as he caressed my asshole.

He made sure to wash off his fingers and get some more soap on them. He reached around me to start washing my pussy. He, of course, made sure to concentrate on my clit, which drove me nuts! The next thing I knew, he was pushing his cock into my cunt, sawing in and out while still playing with my clit! Oh, I loved it, but I was also frustrated because I knew I was going to be late.

Thank goodness I was pushing against the shower wall or I would have been in a puddle on the floor. Yes, I came more than once before he injected me with his sperm. The showerhead was on a hose so that it could be held in your hand. He detached the showerhead from its cradle and turned it on himself, rinsing my cream from his dick. He then flipped a lever on the showerhead, causing it to pulsate, and directed it to my pussy and my clit. That triggered another orgasm and I was absolutely gasping when he returned the showerhead to its cradle and flipped the lever to ‘normal.’

He reached around me and turned the water off. By this time, I was leaning my back to the shower wall, desperately trying to get my breathing under control.

“Bastard,” I wheezed. “You knew I was running late! Now I have to take time to dry and fluff my hair!” I wasn’t going to chide him for fucking me; I loved it far too much!

He just laughed as he was drying off and threw me a big fluffy towel. “Yeah,” he said, “but think how much more relaxed you’ll be when you see the new doctor!” He turned and went into the bedroom to get dressed.

I gathered up my energy to push myself off the wall and started drying myself. I gave my hair a vigorous rubbing, watching the curls bounce back up as the hair dried slightly. I’ve learned to just let it do its thing and not worry too much about what it will or won’t do. I leaned into the mirror and put just a little bit of makeup on my face. I don’t like it too heavy; Nils says I don’t need it anyway.

I used a big fluffy powderpuff to put some baby powder on my body; again, not too much, just enough to give a hint of scent. I brushed my teeth and then went into the bedroom to get dressed.

Getting dressed for me was usually pretty simple; I usually just put on a T-shirt and a skirt. This time, I thought I’d dress up a little; after all, I was meeting a new doctor. So, I put on some stay-up stockings and a pink button-down blouse. My skirt was a short, pleated one. It wasn’t so short that you’d see my lack of underwear as I drove, but it really did show off a lot of leg!

Of course, Amber and Thomas watched me as I got dressed. I’ve gotten used to that little audience. I sat on the edge of the bed to put on a pair of black, heeled boots. They didn’t come up very high, but I gained some height with them. As I was zipping them up, Amber came up and licked my face. “I love you, too,” I laughed and gave her a little pat and scratch behind her ears.


Thomas came up and put his paw on my arm. “I love you, too,” I said, and picked him up to give him a little hug. He didn’t really appreciate that and jumped, as quickly as he could, back onto the bed. Critters! You just gotta love ‘em!

I called good-bye to Nils, but I didn’t get any response. I figured he’d already gone to his studio. Oh, well. I jumped into my little red sports car, put down the top and motored over to the new doctor’s office.

Actually, the new doctor’s office was where the old doctor’s office had been. I guess that after he bought the practice, the new doctor had a little renovation done, but it was still the same location. That was nice, because I didn’t have to go searching for a new place.

When I arrived, I went up to the door and was surprised by what I saw: the door proclaimed the two doctors had their offices there! It said “Watson and Watson, GP and Gynecology.” ‘Well,’ I thought, ‘that’s convenient. Maybe I can get my total physical at the same time!’ I opened the door with a new enthusiasm.

The waiting room didn’t look all that much different from the old one. There was new furniture, and, to be honest, it looked very comfortable. It all looked to be a Danish modern, with lots of blond wood and textured cushions.

There was an area in the corner, beneath a wall-mounted, large screen TV, an area with assorted toys for children. It was, after all, a general practice, so it must cover all ages. The lobby was, thankfully, empty. I hate going to a doctor’s office that’s full of sick people. I just think of all the things I could be catching.

The rest of the décor was ... well, unusual, to say the least. The walls were covered in a lightly textured wallpaper, an off white in color with brown flecks in it. There was a chair rail about three feet off the floor going all the way around the room.

Then there were the framed pictures hanging above the chair rail. There was one with a kitten holding open a book that looked as if there were pictures of nude women in it. Next to that was a picture of a woman masturbating. It looked as if the picture was taken on one of the chairs in the waiting room. The opposite wall had a picture of a man and a woman embracing, but they, too, were nude. You could almost see, and most certainly imagine, that his cock was in her pussy. That one was set between two windows on the south-facing wall, letting in sunlight all day long.

There was a woman behind the counter and she looked up as I came in. “How may I help you?” she asked with a real cheerfulness in her voice. Well, that was nice, someone who acted like they wanted to be where they were!

“My name is Naomi. I have an appointment, “I replied. “I’m sorry I’m a little late, but I got a little hung up this morning.” I just know I was blushing, thinking about how I had gotten hung up on Nils’ cock.

“No problem,” the young lady replied. She was dressed in blue-green scrubs and she had a fresh-scrubbed look about her. She looked to be about thirty and she filled the top of the scrubs very nicely. She had blond hair tied back in a ponytail. She was very pretty and her smile was white and even.


She picked up a clipboard with some forms on it. She got up and walked around the barricade and handed them to me. “We need you to fill these out so we can update our files,” she said. “When we bought Dr. Mac’s practice, the filing system was a bit chaotic, so we want to start fresh.”

“Okay,” I said. I took the clipboard and pen and sat down in a chair directly across from the counter. To my surprise, she sat down beside me.

“My name is Dr. Jill Watson,” she said. “My husband Jack and I bought the practice. We didn’t want to be a part of a big clinic. We want to know our patients by name, not by number.”

“Oh,” was all I could say. I thought for a moment or two and then asked, “Could I get a full physical today, not just a gyno exam? My grandma wants to be sure I’m in good shape.”

“We love grandmas!” Jill exclaimed. “They always want their grandchildren to get the best care!” She took a breath. “I don’t know why we can’t take the time for a full physical. We’re new, and we haven’t really gotten many patients yet, so we can take as much time as we want. Do you have the time? Do you have to get back to your office?”

“No,” I said, “I don’t have an office to go back to! I work for an artist here in town as his housekeeper, so I’ve got as much time as I want.” I thought to myself that, if Jack Watson was as nice as his wife, Jill, I was going to really like my new doctors! I’d have to get Nils to come and see them, also. He hadn’t been to see a doctor in ages!

Dr. Jill and I talked while I filled out the forms. When I got to the place where it asked who was responsible for payment, I had to put down ‘self.’ Nils didn’t really have an insurance program for me, but he was willing to pay for exams and such. Luckily, I am as healthy as a racehorse, so he hasn’t had to pay out too much for doctor’s visits or injuries in the time I’ve known him.

When I finished, I handed Dr. Jill the paperwork, and she negligently just put them beside her computer keyboard. She did, however, put another clipboard on top of my paperwork, effectively hiding it from possible prying eyes. Nobody was there presently, but someone could come through the doors at any moment.

Dr. Jill held out her hand and I took it as she led me to the interior of the building. The walls were more pastel in color, but in very relaxing shades. As I followed Dr. Jill, I watched her hips. They bunched and relaxed in a very hypnotic roll. I think I began to understand why men love to watch women as they walk.

She led me to a room towards the end of the hall. We had passed one room that must have been an office and had the door closed, but every other room was open and empty. Dr. Jill had me stand on an old-fashioned scale; you know, the type where you have to slide little weights back and forth to find the weight.


It also had a little slider that came up and you could get your height with a little tab that stuck out from it. She wrote down the statistics and said, “Hmmm. Five-foot seven, one hundred fifteen pounds. Just about perfect, I’d say.” She winked at me as she said it. Then, Dr. Jill sat on a rolling seat and indicated I should sit on the table in the middle of the room.

“Let’s just start with the basics,” she said, and then asked me to roll up my sleeve. I think I might have surprised her when I just unbuttoned my blouse and took it off. She looked at me with a question in her eyes.

“Well,” I said, “I’m probably going to have to take it off eventually, so why not now?”

“Very practical,” she murmured. She placed the cuff of the sphygmomanometer (I once worked as a nurse’s aide; I know what the machines are called!) around my arm and manually pumped up the pressure. She put the diaphragm of the stethoscope on the crook of my arm, listening to my pulse.

“You don’t have a machine to do this?” I asked.

She didn’t answer right away, concentrating on listening. Eventually, she pulled the earpieces from her ears and held my wrist, getting ready to take my pulse. As she turned her wrist so that she could see her watch, she said, “No. We don’t have a whole lot of machines here. Jack and I think that we prefer a more ‘hands-on’ approach to working with our patients. That way, we can be a little more attuned to what the patient is feeling. Or, at least, that’s what we think.”

I nodded my understanding. She went silent, but I said, “I would imagine that some patients would prefer that you use more machines, though.”

She just nodded, and then turned and noted the readings on a chart. She then said, “Yes, that’s true. Those patients are welcome to go to the big clinics, but we decided that machines just don’t have a lot of heart and can’t ‘feel’ the patients, so-to-speak. We like it our way. I hope you do, too.”

She put the earpieces back into her ears and breathed on the chest piece. “Breathe deeply,” she said as she placed the chest piece onto my chest. As I breathed deeply, as instructed, she moved the chest piece around my chest, then moved it to my back and listened in several places.

“Well,” she said, pulling the earpieces out. “Your lungs sound clear and there doesn’t seem to be any congestion.” She placed her fingers over one lung and thumped them while she listened carefully. She did this in several places. “Sounds good and hollow, just the way it’s supposed to! So far, so good,” she said smiling.

She put the earpieces back into her ears and put the chest piece directly over my heart. As she listened, she asked several general health types of questions and I answered as well as I could.


She looked directly into my eyes, took a flashlight from the pocket of her scrubs, and shined it directly in my eyes, flicking the light back and forth. “Good,” she murmured. She held up a finger and said, “Hold your head still and follow my finger with just your eyes.” She then proceeded to weave a pattern in the air as I followed her finger with my eyes. I giggled.

“What was that for,” Dr. Jill asked.

“I was just remembering a time when a boy and I were playing doctor,” I said. “He held his index fingers together and weaved a pattern like you just did. Only, when he finished, he was right at the bridge of my nose, and he rapidly pulled his fingers apart. I had been cross-eyed at that point and it took a couple of seconds for my eyes to see things straight again. We laughed and did it to each other several times.”

“Funny what we remember,” she chuckled. She reached over and pulled an otoscope over and looked in my ears, and then up my nose. That’s never really comfortable. She grabbed a tongue depressor and said the usual, “Open wide and say ‘aaauugh’.”

Of course, I did, and when she was done, she made some more notes. “You look and sound very healthy, Naomi,” she said. “Good diet, right? Plenty of fruits and vegetables, right? Getting enough sleep, too?”

I was nodding as she asked, but when she got to the last, I just had to comment, “When Nils lets me sleep! Sometimes, he seems to have enough energy to go all night long!” We both laughed at the confession.

“Why don’t you finish getting undressed,” she said. There’s a gown on the desk, if you want it.” She walked to the door. “Just open the door when you’re ready.”

“Is there anyone else here?” I asked.

“Just my husband,” she replied.

“Just leave the door open, then,” I said. “I don’t have anything to hide!”

“Really,” she said, skepticism in her voice.

“Nope,” I said. “I pose nude for paintings and photographs, so I don’t have anything to hide.”

“Interesting,” was all she said. “Well, you finish undressing. You can leave the stocking on, if you like.”

She left and I could hear her walking down the hall in spite of her thick rubber-soled shoes. I suppose if you’re on your feet a lot, those kinds of shoes are really comfortable, but they are ugly. I unbuttoned and unzipped the skirt, and as it dropped to the floor, I heard footsteps coming back to where I was carefully folding my skirt and blouse. There was a discreet knock on the doorframe.

“May we come in?” asked a wonderfully deep male voice. I felt my nipple crinkle at the sound. Without waiting for a reply, both doctors came into the room. “I’m Dr. Watson,” the male said, “but you can call me Dr. Jack.”

I giggled. “Dr. Jack and Dr. Jill,” I said. “Did you ever get that pail of water?” I don’t know why I said that, but I did. It sounded funny to me.

He frowned a little. “Do you have any idea of how many times we’ve heard that joke? It’s probably a good thing I wasn’t named John, or I’d hear no end to the Sherlock Holmes jokes!”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I was, too. I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings.

“Oh, don’t think anything about it,” he said, smiling hugely. “It’s not something we haven’t heard before, and we really don’t mind it too much. Now,” he continued, “what brings you in today?”

I tried to match his smile. As I was standing there, Dr. Jill went over to the table and pulled the paper down the length of the padded table and put in the stirrups. They were a bit different from what the old doctor had for his female patients. His were cold steel and would only hold up the patient’s heels; these were padded and looked like they’d support the whole calf. There was nowhere to put your feet except to have them dangle from your legs.

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