“It won’t be a problem, Niles, I promise,” I tell him.
“Okay, then I’m going to go home and pretend I didn’t just overhear our former employee talking about the...”
He trails off, obviously feeling too awkward to continue.
“The size of my cock?” I ask him, grinning.
Damn it.
If it weren’t for the size of my cock—and my desire to pleasure women with it— I wouldn’t even be in this mess. But I still can’t help but brag about how big it is, especially to my old pal Niles. Even though he’s mad at me right now, I know he appreciates my sense of humor in every situation.
Sure enough, he shakes his head but he’s slightly smiling.
“Joke all you want, but just follow through with keeping your word for once,” he says, “and make sure you take care of this.”
Niles nods to Trisha. I’m about to tell her goodbye before following him out, but she’s on the phone, so that seems rude of me.
As Niles leaves, I hear Trisha say, “Umm, I’m really not sure. Let me ask him.”
I figure it’s a good thing I’m here.
“Dr. Monroe, I’m sorry to bother you once again,” Trisha says sheepishly, putting a hand over the phone.
“It’s okay, Trisha,” I tell her. “It’s already been one of those days, so tell me what’s up. I don’t see how anything could get much worse no matter what it is.”
“It’s just…” she says, searching for the right words.
I blink at her, wanting to say, go ahead but be quick about it. I do have other things to do today. But I don’t want to be cruel to a new employee who is clearly trying her best.
“Shirley Suttell is on the phone,” Trisha continues, looking apologetic once again. “I don’t really know her, but she sounds kind of crazy. She’s asking if she can bring her daughter in for some sort of purity exam.”
She shakes her head.
“I mean, I know that’s insane,” she says. “So, I’m going to just tell her we don’t do that sort of thing.”
“Hold on,” I tell her, thinking of Shirley, but more accurately, of her daughter Elizabeth Jane. The last time I saw her, she was a senior in high school and completely forbidden. But that was at least a year ago, if memory serves me correctly. “How old is she?”
“Let me check her chart,” Trisha says. “Oh, here it is. She’s nineteen.”
“Okay,” I tell her. “Well I think she’s talking about a pap smear.”
“Dr. Monroe,” Trisha insists, crinkling her nose at me while slowly shaking her head. “I really don’t think that’s what she’s talking about.”
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I think it is, but in any event, we’ll sort it out when she gets here.”
When I think of the prospect of seeing Elizabeth Jane again, my cock stands straight up to attention. But, so does my heart. Which is ridiculous, since I never get romantic feelings and I’ve barely managed to escape from my last attempts at a no-strings-attached relationship.
I guess I’ve always had a soft spot for Elizabeth Jane while also— now that she’s nineteen— having a hard on for her. I tell myself that any feelings I might be getting only stem from paternal-like instincts.
I’ve never had a child— never wanted one— but poor Elizabeth Jane was abandoned by her own father and that crazy mother of hers is always going off about it, making it sound more traumatic on her that it must have been for Elizabeth Jane. These feelings must be present because I only want to care about her. Not fuck her brains out. Or let her steal my fucking heart.
I must think about something gross— the thought of soon checking Mr. Jefferson’s bed sores to see how they’re healing, which is definitely one of the downsides of having a family practice— to get my cock to settle down and behave. Too bad there’s no such quick fix for my heart.
I’ve known Elizabeth Jane for a long time. I can’t believe Little Lizzy is all grown up. I imagine how she must look now, and I can barely take it any longer.
“See if she can come in tomorrow,” I tell Trisha.
“Tomorrow?” she looks shocked. “But you don’t have any openings…”
“Well, then shift things around and make one,” I tell her.
When she looks hurt, I add, “I’m sorry, Trisha. It’s been a long day and I need to get home. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
I just want to go jerk off and think about what I wish I could do to Elizabeth Jane Suttell. I can’t believe her mom wants me to check her virginity. But, like Niles just said, a doctor’s job is to keep the patients happy, right?
What crazy Shirley Suttell wants, she’ll get. Even though she probably has no idea how much I want it too. Nor does she have any idea how anxiously I'll be waiting to see Elizabeth Jane tomorrow— which feels like months away as I go to see my last patient of the day.
Chapter 10 – Elizabeth Jane
I sit anxiously in the waiting room, fiddling with my nails. I’ve come to this office and waited here in the lobby to be seen since I was young, always feeling some sort of nervousness due to having to be at the doctor’s office, but never have I felt this level of anxiety.
I fiddle with my nails, which I’ve painted bright red, a color my mother despises because she says it’s for whores. I don’t usually paint them at all, let alone in this shade, but I guess it was an act of rebellion.
My dad ran off on my mom with another woman and she suspect’s that he cheated on her with quite a few others before he finally left her for good. She thinks all men are pigs and that any woman who would sleep with one is a whore.
When I was younger, I found a card he had sent me for my birthday and it had his phone number on it. But Mom said she tried calling it so that she could collect child support from him and it was disconnected. She told me he’s a no-good deadbeat and that as long as I live under her roof, I won’t be trying to contact him. She also added that it’s for my own protection, since he’d just treat me as badly as he had treated her.
That’s why she says I should never trust a man. And I don’t plan to. I don’t trust women either, which is why I don’t have many friends. All of them just want to gossip and backstab. I only trust myself, and it’s hard to do even that when I second guess every decision I ever make.
I’m not sure if Mom expects me to be a virgin all my life but she has said many times that I have to wait until I get married to have sex, and that there are no good guys worth marrying. And apparently, I’m not even allowed to masturbate. So really, I’m not supposed to have any options at all, I guess. Such is life with my mom.
Just because I don’t want a relationship, though, doesn’t mean I don’t want sex. As soon as I can get out from under my mother’s roof— and escape from her talons of judgment— I’m going to be one of those stereotypical girls gone wild who has lots of hot but meaningless sex.
Maybe it’s just because my mom is so against it, but I honestly can’t wait to lose my virginity. I want it to be good, though. Really hot and with someone who turns me on as much as thinking about Dr. Monroe does. I do not want a repeat of Truth or Dare with the dorky ugly guy— my only experience so far.
I can’t believe I’m here waiting to see the man I was fantasizing about. Leave it to my mom to take me to the guy I wish would take my virginity, to find out if I’m still a virgin.
I squirm in my chair, unable to contain my nervousness and excitement. Just thinking about Dr. Monroe touching me where I always touch myself while fantasizing about him drives me crazy. This is almost like a dream come true, except I have to remind myself it’s reality.
Only in my dreams will Dr. Monroe do anything besides laugh my mom out of his office (I hope). Only in fantasy land will he start off with an exam and end up with an erection. I’ll have to wait until later tonight— until my mom’s gone to sleep and it’s just me and my filthy thoughts— to get the kind of release I’m wanting.
But for now, as soon as I’m one on one with Dr. Monroe, I can feast
my eyes upon the object of my affection, and wish he would make my wildest, naughtiest fantasies come true.
Chapter 11 – Elizabeth Jane
When my name is finally called, I stand up and walk towards the door to the back where the offices are. My mother gets up to follow me and I can’t resist letting out a sigh.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, since she’s come in with me to every doctor’s appointment throughout my entire life. But I suppose I had been naively assuming that now that I’m an adult, things would be different.
“I’m Trisha,” says the nurse who called my name.
She’s not the nurse I’m used to seeing here— Maria— so she must be new.
I smile at her and say, “I’m Elizabeth Jane,” which is stupid, because she just called my name, so she clearly already knows it.
“And I’m Shirley,” my mother introduces herself, although no one asked her to.
I suddenly worry about the results of the exam.
Will Dr. Monroe be able to tell that I’ve been fingered by a boy? Or that I regularly touch myself? Will he tell my mom?
I don’t think it’s physically possible for him to be able to tell that— nor do I think he could report it to my mom— but I fear the worst. I’m not sure what would happen to me if Dr. Monroe could do that. I might be out on the streets.
I try to picture this eventual fate of mine, but it’s difficult. I still have pink Hello Kitty pillowcases and boy band posters on my wall. Somehow the image of my life up to this point doesn’t mesh with one of me begging for spare change on a street corner.
“Mom, I don’t think it’s necessary for you to…” I start to say, before we go back to Dr. Monroe’s office.
“Oh, I’m coming in,” she responds, before I can even finish the sentence. “There’s no way I’m letting you be deceitful about the results of this exam. I want to be there to see it for myself.”
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” exami
ne 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.
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