Playing with Her Doctors

by S. E. Law

  At the end of the short questionnaire, the tablet prompts me to pay my co-pay. This gadget can do that? Stunned, I take out my credit card and swipe it through the slot on the side. It whirs a bit, and then it’s done. I’m all set.

  I give the tablet back to the front desk and then sit down once more. Thank goodness this procedure is covered by insurance. Well, it should be at least, judging from what I read in my company’s health insurance booklet. Of course, that thing isn’t exactly a booklet. It’s a four hundred-page “Terms and Conditions” document that sets out the parameters of my health care coverage. I’ve used it multiple times for my son’s Well Baby and Well Child check-ups, but since giving birth, I haven’t been back to the doctor’s office for anything frivolous.

  Of course, this isn’t exactly frivolous, which is why health insurance covers my visit. A vaginoplasty is an interior tightening of my vaginal walls, so my outside parts are going to be left alone. How doctors do this is beyond me, but I’m grateful for their medical expertise.

  The receptionist calls me with a friendly smile.

  “Bethany?” she asks. “We’re ready for you in Exam Room 1.”

  I shoot her an unsure smile and get up before following her through a long hallway and into a white cube-like space. It’s a typical exam room with a big, padded examination table, and a sink outfitted with all sorts of swabs, band-aids, and other first-aid items.

  “Here’s your gown,” the receptionist speaks with a friendly smile. “Take off all your clothes, and then slip this on, and tie it in the back.”

  “Thanks,” I say in a trembling voice as she departs.

  The door closes and hesitantly, I start taking off my clothes. I wore a loose outfit because I knew I was going to be nude, but now, in the chill air of the exam room, this whole idea is starting to sound bad. This is so embarrassing! I have a loose pussy, and now I have to say those words to the doctor? Plus, Dr. Ryder Stephenson is really hot. After I hung up with Wanda, I looked up their office website, and immediately clicked on the About Me section.

  My mouth fell open because Ryder Stephenson and Ranger Stevens look like models. In their portraits, they both had deep black hair and piercing blue eyes, along with mobile, generous mouths and high cheekbones. These men looked more like soap opera stars than surgeons, and my heart beat fast merely from looking at the photos.

  But that wasn’t it. These men are smart. Both of them when to prestigious schools, and then did internships and residencies, along with passing all sorts of exams along the way. I felt a little cowed reading about their professional backgrounds. Sure, I went to college but Bowling Green State out in Tennessee isn’t exactly the same as Harvard. In fact, I was a middling student for my entire four years, and while I didn’t get a degree in partying, I didn’t exactly graduate with honors either.

  So here I am, nude with only a pink paper gown covering my assets. I look down. My girls are huge, and the tips are slightly moist because I’m still breastfeeding Danny. Oh god, hopefully I don’t start expressing during my appointment. That would be so embarrassing.

  I gaze down the neckline and catch a glimpse of my pussy as well. Knowing that I was going on a date with Danny, I shaved it all, and then re-shaved it in anticipation of this appointment. As a result, I’m completely bare down there, and the slight draft makes my inner folds tremble slightly. I press my legs together.

  Suddenly, a knock sounds on the door.

  “I’m ready!” I call out in a high-pitched voice.

  The door opens, and my heart literally stops because the man who steps in looks even more gorgeous than his profile pic. Dr. Ryder Stephenson is a movie star cum doctor come to life. The portrait photo didn’t capture his sheer height, nor did it show the breadth of his shoulders or the width of his chest. He’s a picture of masculine beauty, and right now, those piercing blue eyes swing to mine.

  “Ms. McLeod, is it? Nice to meet you, I’m Dr. Stephenson.”

  With my heart beating loudly in my ears, I reach one small hand out to shake.

  4

  Ryder

  The patient takes my breath away because she’s absolutely gorgeous.

  Stunning, even.

  Brown curly hair surrounds the face of an angel, with a perfect pink pout and a small, upturned nose. Her skin is like pale cream, and she’s got deep amber eyes that gaze up at me beneath dark lashes.

  “Hello,” she says in a dulcet voice. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

  When our hands touch in a shake, an immediate lightning bolt shoots straight from our palms to my groin. Oh shit, this woman is so tempting, and I adjust my white lab coat to cover my growing erection. Stay professional, I remind myself. There’s no need to lose it over one girl. You’ve seen thousands of patients, and nothing’s ever gone wrong.

  It’s true. Being a plastic surgeon is a difficult slog. First, there were four years of undergrad, followed by four years of medical school. Then I had to do a specialty in plastics, followed by a residency and an internship. By the time I was ready to practice on my own, I was in my early thirties, and deep in debt. Tuition wasn’t cheap, and the hospitals pay very little when you’re a resident.

  But in the ten years since, I’ve more than made back my investment because our practice, Epinine Medical is doing gangbusters. My friend from medical school, Ryder Stevens, and I opened up this joint as soon as we could find office space, and women flowed in the doors from Day One. We divide and conquer, is what we like to say. I do body-related plastic surgery, while Ryder does facial plastic surgery. We complement one another, and often call on one another’s expertise when confronted with difficult cases.

  After all, this is New York City and there’s a lot of botched plastic surgery walking up and down the streets. Sometimes, it’s someone’s nose which has been shaved too much, or someone’s breasts which are crooked. Other times, it’s even worse. I’ve seen sores large enough to fit a cat, and wounds that are black and crusted, rotting on themselves. As a result, Ryder and I do a lot of revision surgery in order to help people look their best after a first attempt gone wrong.

  The good part about our business is that it doesn’t come cheap. Revision surgery is necessarily time-consuming and expensive, and we charge top dollar. As a result, the women coming into our office are often socialites and ladies who lunch. Unfortunately, our services just weren’t designed for the average Jane.

  But this girl is different. Bethany McLeod stands out to me because there’s nothing immediately wrong with her, from what my professional eye can see. Her features are dainty and symmetrical, and there are no obvious scars or misshapen lumps. Then again, I haven’t seen under her gown, and that’s where the problem could be.

  “So how can I help you?” I say in a neutral voice while seating myself on a stool next to the exam table. Her legs are long and pale, delicately formed at the ankle. Mmm, I love a woman’s ankles.

  “Well, I’m here to learn about a v-vaginoplasty,” she says on stammer, her cheeks flushing. She’s so beautiful and I long to stroke her hair, but instead, grip the clipboard in my hand.

  “I see,” I continue in my best doctor’s voice. “And why do you think you need a vaginoplasty?”

  She goes beet red then, from her hairline down to the neckline of her gown.

  “Well, I went on a date, and when he … well, put it in me, you know, he said I wasn’t tight because I’ve had a baby. But my baby’s two years old now. I should be okay, right? Maybe not exactly like before, but guys shouldn’t be complaining that I’m loose.”

  I stare at her chart. Ah ha, yes this curvy girl gave birth to a child a mere two years ago. Maybe that explains some of the generous flesh on her frame, like the dimpled knees and the thick thighs that I can see just peeping out of her exam gown.

  I nod, as if in deep in thought.

  “Well, childbirth definitely stretches out a woman’s birth canal, but most women recover. It’s actually quite rare that someone doesn’t bounce back, espe
cially someone of your age. How old were you when you gave birth?” I ask.

  “Twenty-three,” she says almost in a whisper. “I’m twenty-five now.”

  I nod.

  “It’s not unheard of. The labia major, labia minor, and interior of a woman’s vaginal passage can definitely sag and loosen with time. But there’s a difference – some fixes are just cosmetic. For example, a labioplasty is where we tighten the labia itself. We trim down the folds and make the entire region more aesthetically appealing. Is that what you’re looking for?”

  She bites her lips, her cheeks on fire.

  “No, because everything looks okay from the outside. It was when he went in. He said he couldn’t feel anything.”

  I frown.

  “Is your partner a particularly small size?”

  She bites her lip again.

  “He’s not my partner,” she says quickly. “It was just a date with someone I know. But what counts as small size?” she adds.

  I nod, unperturbed.

  “Generally, a length of three inches or less, or in this case, a diameter of less than a quarter.”

  Bethany goes bright red.

  “He was as thin as a pencil,” she says in a near whisper. “To be honest, I could barely feel him when he was inside. Does that count as small?”

  I chuckle deep in my chest.

  “I’d say it does, but the only way to tell for sure is to do a pelvic exam. Is that something you’re interested in?”

  She bites her lips and nods.

  “Yes,” is her tiny, whispered reply.

  I smile at her, standing to my full height before reaching over and pulling out the stirrups beneath the exam table. She looks up at me with big brown eyes, unsure how to proceed.

  “This is no different from a standard gynecological exam,” I say in a soothing voice. “I’m going to do a lot of the same things. Of course, we won’t need to do a swab or anything like that because I’m testing the elasticity of your vaginal canal, but to the patient, it very much feels the same.”

  “Oh I see,” is her breathless whisper. Obediently, Bethany raises her legs and inserts her delicate feet into the stirrups. I pull them farther apart, and her breath hitches.

  “Is this too wide?” I ask. After all, she’s a small thing. Perhaps I’m straining her hips. She merely shakes her head in answer.

  “No, I’m okay.”

  “Great,” I say. “Let me just get everything prepared, and we’ll get ready.”

  I move to the side counter, and strap on gloves before assembling an assortment of metal tools. There’s the speculum, as well as the spreader, and a bunch of different needle-like implements.

  “Oh my god, is that going into me?” she asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Not all of it. The best test of a woman’s elasticity is still a doctor’s fingers. No machine can replace an experienced professional’s touch.”

  She looks at me with hesitant eyes as I pull a stool up right between her thighs.

  “And you’ve done this on thousands of women, right?”

  I laugh.

  “I haven’t performed thousands of vaginoplasties, but I’ve definitely done thousands of exams. I’ve touched many women in their sensitive parts because this is a problem that’s more common than you think. Sagging and loosening of the tissue can come with age, not just childbirth, so there are a lot of patients who come in looking for fixes.”

  She nods, blushing.

  “Okay, I think I’m ready.”

  With that, I lift the pink hospital gown, revealing Nirvana on Earth.

  5

  Ryder

  Bethany’s so beautiful, and my cock jerks from the sight of her pussy. She’s bare all over, and her lips are pink and glistening. Even from a brief visual examination, I can tell that it’s unlikely she needs any type of surgery. If anything, Bethany went out with a douchebag with a tiny penis who doesn’t want to admit that the fault lies with him.

  But I can’t let her realize how aroused I am. Fortunately, I’m at eye level with the patient, so she can’t see how my cock’s pressing stiffly against my pants. I can even feel the tip seeping pre-cum, and curse myself. How can this be happening? She’s just one patient out of the thousands I’ve seen, and yet I’m totally losing control.

  There’s just something about this woman. Her innocence. Her sweet demeanor. The way she’s so shy when telling me about her “perceived problem.” I could punch that guy she went out on a date with because it’s men like that who cause women to have self-esteem problems. I’d love to meet him in a dark alley and show him the back of my fist.

  But it’s obvious that Bethany’s also extremely nervous, and her creamy thighs tremble a bit as she lies there. Her breasts quiver beneath the gown and I murmur gently, “Don’t worry, just take a deep breath. This is going to be slightly cold, but then it’ll warm up in a second.”

  I squirt some lube in my gloved palm, and then lightly pat her pussy. She quivers a bit more and to my excitement, her lips become increasingly moist. They flush and grow plump, fattening under my gaze. She’s really aroused, and my cock jerks in answer.

  Gently, I rub my hand in circles along her lips, massaging and stroking her where it counts.

  She jerks up a bit and looks at me with wide eyes.

  “Does that go in next?” she asks, glancing at the speculum. I admit, it doesn’t look fun. The tool is metal, glistening and gargantuan. Why would anyone want the cold steel inserted into their most private parts?

  “Not quite yet,” I say in a soothing voice. “I’m going to put a little more of this warming lube on you, and then we’ll get started.”

  She nods breathlessly as I squirt more KY into my hand. Then I pat it onto her pussy again, except this time, I niggle her clit with one finger. She lets out a slight moan and tilts her head back, exposing that long, lovely neck.

  “Oh my,” is her gasp.

  “I’m going to open you up a bit more,” I say, “and the best way to do that is to get you relaxed. Here, does this help?” I ask, reaching one finger over to trace circles around her clit. “Many women are sensitive to clitoral stimulation, and it helps with our exams sometimes.”

  “Oh wow,” is her breathy reply. “That does help.”

  I smirk a bit.

  “Good,” I say. “Now I’m going to put some more lube on you, and we’ll get started, okay?”

  She nods silently, still breathing hard with anticipation. Except this time, I don’t reach for the jelly. Instead, I lean forwards and exhale once onto her pussy. Her folds are so hot and moist that I can feel the steam rising onto my neck.

  “Dr. Stephenson!” she squeals. “Wait, what are you doing?”

  I lean back.

  “I haven’t done anything yet,” I say.

  “Oh right, right,” she says, her eyes wide. “I just thought …”

  “Thought what?” I ask with eyebrows raised. Her cheeks go scarlet.

  “No, nothing,” she murmurs, embarrassed. “Your face was just so close.”

  I grin.

  “Not that close,” I say. “But I am about to get a lot closer.”

  This time, I lean in between those succulent thighs and gently lick her clit before swirling my tongue around her sensitive nub. Her pussy grows moist, and a bit of nectar slides down my throat. It tastes heavenly, and I swallow with appreciation.

  But Bethany’s staring at me now with wide eyes.

  “Oh my god!” she squeals. “That happened!”

  “It did,” I say with a smile. “Did you like it?”

  She stammers. “Was that – I mean, was that supposed to happen?”

  I don’t even lose a beat.

  “Only with special patients,” I say. “Don’t worry, lie back. We’re just getting you loosened, remember? Because I’m going to have to inspect the inner elasticity of your pussy.”

  She relaxes on the exam table again, those huge tits heaving as her knees tremble. I push
the gown higher up her thighs so that I can see all of her sweetness and let out a low rumble.

  “You’re beautiful,” I growl low in my throat. “Absolutely stunning.”

  She raises her head to look at me shyly, lips trembling.

  “Thank you Dr. Stephenson,” she says. “That means a lot to me to hear that.”

  I smile reassuringly at her again, and then lean back in for some taste-testing. This time, she lets out a low moan as I tongue her clit before licking up one side of her pussy, skating across her clit, and then coming back down the other side. Two of my hands go to her bottom and push back slightly so that her knees tilt up, giving me better access. Then, I push my tongue into her hole, savoring the sweet snack.

  “Oh,” is her breathless moan. “This feels so good.”

  I swirl my tongue inside.

  “You feel tight in here,” I murmur. “It doesn’t seem like anything’s wrong.”

  Bethany can’t reply because she’s lost to pleasure. Her hands have gone up to her neckline and pulled the gown down, revealing her breasts. To my delight, the sweet girl is now rolling and rubbing her nipples between her hands while massaging the lovely rounds.

  “Oh my god,” she breathes again, her pussy secreting wetly into my mouth. “This is amazing.”

  “That it is,” I say. I insert my tongue again, gathering a huge mouthful of her cream. “But you know what? I need a second professional opinion to determine whether or not you’ve gone loose. Would you mind if I asked my colleague, Dr. Stevens to join us?”

  Bethany looks at me while still rubbing her nipples, splayed out on the exam table. She’s so creamy and delicious that I harden even more, my dick growing to titanic proportions.

  “What?” she asks. “I’m sorry?”

  “Dr. Ranger Stevens,” I say in a soothing voice. “Would you mind if I ask him to join us? Just to get a second opinion, sweetheart. He’s very professional and he’s also seen a lot of cases like yours.”