I nodded and he strode to the door, his shoes creaking along the way. I spotted the disposable green gown, folded on the examination table, and stood up. The door clicked behind him and I turned to E. “This is interesting.”

“Yeah. The contract surprised me. I mean, he’d mentioned that he’d have a disclosure for us to sign, but I didn’t expect it to be so explicit. Turn around.”

I pivoted away from him, holding my hair out of the way as he undid the clasp at the top of my dress, then dragged the zipper down. “I liked the contract. It made me feel safer.”

“You’re always safe with me.” He pressed a kiss on the back of my neck. “Do you feel comfortable with him?”

I thought of his calming presence, the careful way he had studied me, his professional and almost distant manner. “Yes. And Julia said he’s good, so I trust her.” Very good, she had said.

He pushed at the straps of my sundress, and it fell to the floor. Unclipping my bra, he skimmed it down my arms, then stepped back, leaning against the wall and watching as I stepped out of my panties, then folded everything into a neat and orderly stack that I placed on one chair. I looked down at my shoes, cork wedges with a tan sash that tied around my ankle. “Should I take off my shoes?”

“Would you normally in a doctor’s office?”

I weighed the options, then decided to. Sitting naked on the edge of the examining table, I felt the foreign plastic against my bare bottom, and shifted until I was on top of the paper-covered portion of the table. I undid one shoe’s strap, then the other, and passed the wedges to E, who placed them on the floor under the chair. Unfolding the gown, I worked my arms through each hole and then sat back down, my legs hanging off the end, and waited.

It was chilly in the room. Underneath the open gown, my nipples hardened, each shift of movement scraping them against the stiff paper of the gown. Between my legs, I could feel the heaviness of arousal begin, the anticipation agony, my lubrication threatened to drop from between my legs and pool on the table. I squeezed tighter, and stiffened as the metal handle of the door turned a half rotation. It cracked open, and I heard Dr. Loutin’s voice from the other side. “Ready?”

* * *

“I’ll start with a general exam, then we can discuss any problems you might be having.” He sat down on the padded stool and rolled over to the table. Pulling a pair of glasses from his pocket, he put them on and focused up at me. “Open your knees a little for me, Elle.”

He started with my feet, his fingers working over the bare soles, flexing my ankle, massaging along the pad of my heel and then up the muscles of my calf. He paused in one area, kneading a tight knot, and I watched as his brows knit in concentration. “You have very strong legs. Do you run?”

“No, but I played soccer. In high school mostly. A little intramural in college.”

“You still have the muscle tone. That’s good.”

His hands slid higher, running over my knees, and he produced a tiny hammer, which he used to tap on one, then the other. My feet gently rocked. He nodded in approval and then stood, his warm palms sliding up my thighs, squeezing and manipulating the muscles. “Open wider?”

I did, the cool air sliding in between my legs. I was almost on full display, the open gown covering some, but not all of me. Could he see the wet glisten of need? Could he see my thin strip of hair?

From his place against the wall, Easton coughed. A simple sound, but one that magnified everything.

“Let’s go a little wider with those knees, Elle. I want you to really open up and show me everything.”

Such a kind, professional tone. No hint of what he was asking for. No tremor in his voice as he pushed gently on my knees until I was almost straddling the table.

“You’re very flexible,” he noted mildly, then straightened, focusing his attention on my right arm. Between my open legs, my ignored pussy cried out for attention. I glanced at E, whose expression was tight, his eyes smoldering with arousal.

“Lift your arm over your head?”

I followed his instructions, and the change in position caused the gown to gap open, my left nipple almost exposed. I shifted my position, craving some contact against my needy core.

“You can put that arm down. Lift the other arm?”

I obeyed, staring straight ahead as he probed at the muscles of my shoulder and my triceps. He pushed on a ticklish spot and I caved toward the touch, letting out a nervous giggle. “That tickles.”

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