Eww, I think, and she must be able to read my thoughts— or else her prudishness takes over as usual— because she adds, “I mean, you’ll be in a hospital gown and everything, fully covered, of course. I just want to hear what Dr. Monroe has to say about your sexual history and your mental health.”
There she goes thinking he’s a psychologist again, I think, and that we’re in a hospital instead of a doctor’s office. I’ll be lucky if I get a white paper sheet to drape over me— and if I had my way, I wouldn’t even be wearing that for Dr. Monroe.
I don’t voice any of my thoughts aloud. That would just show that the apple doesn’t fall from the tree and cause everyone to think I’m as crazy as my mother. Instead, I trudge past Trisha, who is smiling politely yet awkwardly, and into the office she points me towards.
It looks like it’s finally time to see Dr. Monroe again. I just didn’t imagine my mother being here when it happened.
Chapter 12 – Elizabeth Jane
My mom immediately makes herself at home and sits in the chair beside the examination table. I climb up on it and perch awkwardly, wanting to die of embarrassment.
I’m waiting for Trisha to come take my vitals and make notes in my chart, but instead Dr. Monroe appears, uncharacteristically soon. He stops short when he sees my mother sitting there as if this appointment is for her as well as for me, but he quickly recovers, smiling and extending his hand to her to shake.
His face lights up while he smiles, and I remember how charming he is. His pecs are almost visible through the dress shirt he wears under his lab coat. I’m so glad I get to see him again, even if it’s under the most mortifying circumstances imaginable.
“Shirley, nice to see you again,” he says.
“Nice to see you again too.” My mom places a piece of hair behind her ear. “It’s been a while. Since the joint church volunteer event at the homeless shelter. You members of First Presbyterian are always so helpful.”
“Anything for a good cause,” Dr. Monroe says, and my mother looks down, blushing.
She likes him, I think. What a hypocrite. It’s okay for her to flirt like a schoolgirl with Dr. Monroe but it’s not okay for me to be interested in guys or sex. She goes off about how men are the devil and then she turns around and flirts with the one that I like!
I try to calm down my emotions, reminding myself that there’s no way my mom could know that I fantasize about Dr. Monroe. (And I sure hope she never finds out)! But still, it’s annoying.
Maybe she’ll flirt with him so long that my appointment will be over, and he won’t have time to go through this whole embarrassing ordeal because he’ll have to move along to some actual patient, I think hopefully. But right then Dr. Monroe cuts to the chase in his sexy, take-charge manner.
“So, if I understand this right, Shirley, you are wanting me to give Elizabeth Jane an examination? As in, a physical?”
“Yes,” my mom confirms, nodding her head very seriously. “But not exactly. You see, Doctor…”
She lowers her eyes and her voice, as if she’s too ashamed to continue. But then, to my mortification, she does continue.
“I caught Elizabeth doing something very… unnatural. Very wrong, outside of marriage of course.”
“I see,” Dr. Monroe says, looking at me with what seems a lot like a spark of interest, instead of at my mother who is still blushing and insinuating.
I can’t help but stare back into his dark brown eyes.
Take me, I try to signal to him.
And I can’t help but think— or maybe it’s just blind hope— that he’s signaling to me:
I’ll take you until you can’t take me taking you anymore.
Chapter 13 – Elizabeth Jane
My mom looks like she’s telling Dr. Monroe that someone died, instead of just informing him that I’m a perfectly normal nineteen-year-old girl. Well, as normal as I can be for someone who has her as a mother.
“I’m afraid that Elizabeth Jane is no longer chaste,” Mom continues. “I can’t trust her, and I need you to let me know the truth one way or another.”
She looks at him pleadingly, as if she’s the damsel in distress from an old country western movie.
“And I also need you to let me know if you think she’s mentally sound,” she adds, in a mumble, as if she doesn’t want me to hear her say it.
“Well, I’m no shrink,” says Dr. Monroe, with an amused smile on his face. “But I’ll let you know my basic opinion about her overall state of health and well-being, once I examine her.”
I look smugly at my mother as if to say— See!— but she’s too busy ogling Dr. Monroe to pay me any attention. And I don’t feel too triumphant, because I was hoping that Dr. Monroe would decline to accept the purpose of the appointment. I was waiting for him to tell my mother that he can’t violate HIPAA and that the state of my physical or mental health is none of her business.
It’s a small town though, and everyone gives a lot of deference to respect for parents here. People— including Dr. Monroe— all know my mother and they’ve heard her tried and true cry-me- a-river pity party about my dad walking out on her plenty of times. Dr. Monroe probably feels bad for my mom and he’s probably trying to go along with whatever she wants, just to make her feel better.
“Thank you so much, Doctor,” she says. “I had nowhere to turn.”
She’s so great at playing the victim that she should win some kind of award.
“It’s no problem at all, Shirley,” Dr. Monroe says, nodding to her as in complete deference— the traitor. “I’ve known Elizabeth Jane since she was a young girl and I only have her best interests at heart myself. I’ll be happy to thoroughly examine her for you.”
Despite myself, I feel my muscles clenching a bit down below, and some of the wetness that has been gathering there since Dr. Monroe first entered the room begins to drip out. The way he says he’s known me since I was a young girl turns me on, and I think it might turn him on too— even if that’s just wishful thinking on my part. But there’s something about the way he said that he’d “thoroughly” examine me that doesn’t sound exactly innocent.
“That’s great, Dr. Monroe,” Mom says. “I just knew you would help me out.”
My mind begins to talk me out of getting my hopes up. I’m starting to think it’s weird that he doesn’t protest more. Maybe he should tell her to stop wasting time that could be spent on other patients in need of actual medical help.
Perhaps he should tell her that this isn’t really what doctors do. But he seems to be humoring her, so I have to face the other possibility— that he’s as interested in her as she is in him.
Great, I think. I’ve masturbated to the guy who could be my future stepfather.
But I’m not too worried, because I think my mom would either start hating him just for being a man, or drive him away with her craziness, long before they could actually get married. She doesn’t seem to know any other way to relate to men.
Just then Dr. Monroe looks at me with that same mischievous look in his eyes, that lets me know I was on the right track the first time— he really is into this idea of my mom’s, because he wants to examine me. My heartbeat quickens its pace as I think about him touching me down there— not in the same way I touch myself when I think about him, but something close.
Suddenly I really want to be spreading my legs wide for him and letting him do whatever it takes to examine me the way I’m beginning to realize he knows he wants to. Dr. Monroe turns back to my mom.
“I’ll tell you what, Shirley,” he says to her. “I will do my best to examine her and give you the straight story on what I find. But it must be in private. I need doctor patient privilege.”
He quickly looks at me and then back to my mom as he says this, and there’s something in his look and in his tone of voice that makes me shiver. In a good way.
He wants to be alone with me.
“I need to leave?” my mom asks, her mouth dropping open in upset astonishment
, as if he’s just told her that there’s no God.
“That would most definitely be best,” Dr. Monroe says, with a solemn nod. “I need the patient to trust me and open up to me to be able to ascertain the truth, as you want me to do.”
I’ll definitely open up for him, I think.
“I see,” says my mom, her shoulders sagging.
He’s taken the wind right out of her sails. I want to laugh, but more than that, I’m so excited to be alone with Dr. Monroe.
“Well, whatever you think is best, Doctor,” she pouts. “I certainly want you to be able to find out the truth.”
She gathers her purse from the floor beside her chair and stands up.
“And Shirley?” Dr. Monroe says, as she’s on her way out the door.
“Yes, Doctor?” She bats her eyes at him, as if he might ask for her phone number.
“It will likely take me awhile to do my thorough examination of Elizabeth Jane. You’re welcome to wait in the waiting room, but I’d suggest visiting the coffee shop across the street, or if you have any groceries to pick up or other errands to run, that would be a good use of the time too.”
“Your waiting room is just fine. I’ll bide my time there,” she says, looking as bewildered as I feel.
It’s going to take him a long time to examine me? What if…?
As my mother heads out the door, Dr. Monroe looks at me and winks, and I can barely breathe.
Could he actually be thinking about me the way I think about him? I wonder. Or is this just a fantasy I concocted in my head, as far-fetched as letting him take my virginity on his examination table?
Now that it’s just him and me, I suppose I’m about to find out.
Chapter 14 – Jane
Dr. Monroe closes the door behind my mother and steps a bit closer to my examination table.
“Hello, Elizabeth,” he says, smiling at me so charmingly that even his handsome brown eyes seem to grin along with his mouth. “How have you been?”
“Well, not so great,” I say, fidgeting in embarrassment.
“I’d say,” he agrees. “It appears that your mother is a little… shall we say… overbearing?”
“Yeah.” I giggle nervously. “You could say that.”
“Well, in order for me to perform this examination on you, I’m going to need you to take off your clothes.”
“Right now?” I ask him, wondering what happened to standard protocol.
Trisha is supposed to do her nurse thing and then I’m supposed to disrobe from my pants down while she’s gone and get back up on the examination table and cover myself with the white paper sheet. Then Dr. Monroe is supposed to knock on the door when he arrives, to make sure I’m decent. It’s worked like that every single time I’ve come to his office, but this time he wants me to just get naked in front of him.
“Um, okay,” I say, trying to sound reluctant, but actually my heart is beating fast with excitement.
“Elizabeth Jane, Dear, have you ever undressed in front of a man before?”
“No,” I reply.
This must be part of his examination, I think. It’s a test. He’ll tell my mom if I say yes.
Except the sad thing is that “no” is my honest answer. During the Truth or Dare game at my cousin’s house, the guy had just put his hand up my skirt. I’ve never been naked in front of a man before.
“It’s understandable that you’d be shy,” says Dr. Monroe. “But I’m going to need you to take off your shirt.”
The authoritative tone in his voice sends excited chills down my back and my entire body— especially the lower half— tingles in anticipation. I obediently lift my blouse over my head so that I’m sitting on the examination table in just my skirt and bra.
“Very good,” he says. “And now your skirt.”
I stand up and pull my skirt off, and then sit back down quickly.
Now I’m just in my bra and panties.
“You have a very lovely body,” Dr. Monroe says.
“Thanks,” I say, and blush.
He is looking at me up and down with a smile that slowly spreads across his face.
I’m beginning to get the sense that this isn’t a normal doctor’s appointment. What my mom asked him to do isn’t normal, but whatever Dr. Monroe is planning to do isn’t normal, either. I’m curious and want to find out what he has in mind.
“Do you need help with that?” Dr. Monroe says, nodding towards my bra.
“Yes.” I know how to take my own bra off, but I have a sudden desire to feel him touch me.
He walks up close to me and unsnaps my bra, removing it in one quick motion.
“There we go,” he says, looking down at my breasts.
I’m embarrassed because my nipples are erect. The office is slightly chilly but the fact that they’re standing straight up at attention is definitely not due to the temperature. Instead, it’s due to the fact that Dr. Monroe’s sexy eyes are fixed steadily on my naked body, drinking me in as if I’m an expensive glass of wine.
“These are very nice,” he says. “Have they ever been touched?”
“No, Doctor,” I say.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your mom.”
He leans in closer when he says this, and whispers into my neck while staring down at my breasts. I sit very still, afraid that if I move, he will too.
“I promise, Doctor,” I tell him, in a strange mix of embarrassment and excitement. “No one has ever touched them.”
“Good.”
He reaches out and cups both of my breasts in his hands.
“I’m the first to touch your perfect tits. They’re so full, yet perky. And they’re all mine.”
The way he says “tits” makes me even wetter, as well as the way he says they’re his. I want him to say both things again, but he doesn’t.
He seems to be holding back, as if he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, but can’t help himself.
“Elizabeth Jane, you’re a grown woman now,” he says instead, as if this is news to me.
I nod.
“You truly have the perfect body. You should use it. It’s yours to do with what you want. You know that, right?”
“Right,” I answer, too mesmerized by his hands touching me to say anything else.
His gentle caresses become firmer grasps that feel so good I could explode.
I don’t really believe his words— it seems to me that my body pretty much belongs to my mom and her weird rules until I can afford to move out— but I just go along with whatever he says.
He rubs my nipples with his fingers, voraciously, and licks his lips as if he wants to devour me with his fingers and then his mouth, and I feel a gush of wetness in my panties. I had already been wet but now I want him so badly that it’s becoming physically obvious. I can’t believe my fantasy of being with Dr. Monroe is coming true.
He gives one of my nipples a firm twist, as if telling it that he owns it. And he’s right— he does, he can have it. He can take anything he wants, and I believe he knows how eager I am to give it to him. He moves one of his hands down my side, my stomach, my hips, and lets it rest on the top of my thigh.
“You know that your panties are going to have to come off in order for me to be able to fully examine you, right?”
He says it in that way that reminds me why I have a thing for older men. They know what they want, and they go for it. So unlike myself.
“Right,” I say, and inch my legs open a little bit, so that his hand can travel up my inner thigh and rest on the outside of my underwear.
My most private part lies just beneath the thin fabric, and he lightly rubs its lips. I let out an involuntary moan.
This is it. I can’t believe he’s touching me, taking me. At least I hope he takes me. I’ll do anything he wants, if only this handsome, older, experienced doctor will make love to me for my very first time.
Chapter 15 – Elizabeth Jane
“You’re a very good patient,” Dr. Monroe says, pressing f
irmer so that I can feel him through my panties. And I know he can feel that I’m dripping wet. “And I just want you to know the specific process. You are going to have to be fully naked and I’m going to have to keep my lab coat on. You will have to submit to me and do what I say, in order for the procedure to go well.”
“Okay,” I say eagerly, as he strokes his fingers up and down on top of my underwear.
“Since no one has ever touched your perfect tits, I’m assuming no one has ever touched you down here, either?” he asks, as if expecting a quick affirmative response.
I hesitate. I think about lying to him but I wonder if he can somehow tell. He is a doctor after all, and uncovering the truth is the purpose of his examination.
“Someone has touched you down here?” he asks, hooking a finger under my panties, so that’s he’s touching my flesh underneath.
My legs tense up a bit, fearful, and I say, “Well, yes, Doctor.”
“Someone has touched this beautiful little pussy of yours?” he asks, and shakes his head sadly.
I can’t tell if he’s faking it or if he’s genuinely upset.
Nor can I get the word “pussy” out of my head. It sounds so foreign to my ears and it’s strange that I’m sitting here in Dr. Monroe’s office— the same doctor who treated me when I was a child— as a fully grown 19-year-old woman, feeling shocked that he used the word “pussy.” It seems as if I have a lot of growing up to do still.
“Someone put their hands on this perfect cunt?” he asks again, as he himself inserts a finger into me.
I moan again, tightening my legs around his hand so that I can feel him all the way inside me. He takes his finger out of me and we both look down at my juices dripping out of my pussy and into his hand.
“Your little pussy is so tight and it’s so wet,” he says, looking into my eyes now.
I stare straight back, daring him to do more.
“Why’s it so wet?” he asks me, as he puts his finger back inside me.
Sold at the Games Page 105
