Beth's Breasts

I laboriously washed the pig's blood from my hands; practical's were always a light relief after the terminal boredom of a week of medical lectures. Walking back to my table I glanced between the childish expressions's of glee on Tim and Doug's faces and my rucksack on top of the table. Irritably I opened it and retrieved the left ventricle they had hilariously stuffed under my books. Tim and Doug both cracked up, as usual, pleased with themselves despite the fact that their joke had been foiled by the sheer predictability of it. I had learnt the hard way; the first time this joke had been tried my bag had spent the weekend next to a radiator with a sheep's eyeball in it. Needless to say, the library had fined me for ruining their books.

We made our way through the throng and out into the wider corridor that linked the labs; three articulate, confident, second year students at one of the countries top ten universities.

"Sticking my fingers in that dirty sow, reminded me of last night, when I was shagging your Mum".

"Those stinking guts reminded me of tonguing your sister's growler"

"Your Mums so fucking dirty that your Dad has to cover his knob in dog food to get Fido to clean it up."

Real mature. I'm sure any of those gorgeous, tight, young freshman girls hanging around checking out the doctors would be weak at the knees if they could hear the content of our conversation as we strut out the main entrance and across campus. We are headed home for the weekend to our five bed house just five minutes walk from the leafy campus. I live with Tim and Doug; we have merciless banter which stems from us having very few boundaries left after the excesses of our freshman year in halls.

Tim is currently ripping me for my social networking profile picture; which shows me surrounded by Bolivian children from a village I passed through with the British Red Cross, while working over the summer.

"Why the fuck is that still your profile picture Benjamin? We all know your Florence fucking Nightingale, but do you really think any fanny is impressed by that shit?"

"Now, now, Tim." breaks in Doug, "We all know you're just jealous cos you wish it was you surrounded by little brown kids."

"Look." I say pointing, "There's that mess that mess that Si (another of our housemates) got with last weekend."

We all stare in horror at the monstrosity waddling along the other side of the road, Simon swears that it wasn't her he fucked, but we have photographic evidence of him sucking face with her in the student union nightclub. Plus the springs on his bed now seem shot to shit.

For a few brief moments Tim, Doug, and I are united in harmony as we slate Si; vowing to never let him live this one down.

Si is in the kitchen when we arrive home. George is there as well, our fifth housemate. George and Si are the business boys, but Si fits in with us docs better. Like us he loves the banter and football. George on the other hand is a bit straight. He went to private school and much prefers rugby, he has his own circle of pretentious friends and has proved to be a bit of a cunt to live with. I'm struggling to remember why George was invited to live with us in the first place; I'm going to blame Simon, whose judgement, as already demonstrated, is shit.

"Saw that friggin' whale you harpooned on the way back from campus" Tim informs Si.

"Sweet piece of ass" chimes in Doug.

"On a serious note," I say, pausing for effect, "How the fuck did she feel anything when you were giving her the old two thrusts one squirt, must have been like a needle in a haystack. No offence mate."

Si grimaced and took it. "Oh, none taken friend. Have I mentioned how much I like and respect you three and how I sincerely hope that none of your patients ever take out malpractice lawsuits against you? Eat my shit."

Tim, Doug and I all exchange grins, satisfied at having riled Si and knowing that it is only a matter of days before he does something equally humiliating which can be used against him once more for our merriment.

George is ironing his favourite preppy shirt with meticulous care, laboriously working over the collar so that it will stand up nice and straight.

"Going anywhere nice George?" I enquire.

"Polo social. We'll be at the SU later on I dare say, if you juveniles fancy it?"

George doesn't actually play polo; he is just part of the society because he considers it, "a nice way to mingle with people who would never confuse sparkling wine with champagne."

"Yeah, we'll probs be there G. Apart from Florence who's off to the big smoke tomorrow."

I curl my lip at Doug, who has recently taken to calling me Florence; I like to think in jealously. The reason for his jibe being that I was not going out with the others tonight, as I had a train to catch early tomorrow morning. I was giving a presentation in London for the British Red cross concerning the work I had done for them in my gap year; providing medical aid across South America.

"You shitting yourself yet Florence? Speaking in front of all those people?" Si kindly asked, attempting to shift the abuse onto someone else.

"Imagine them all naked." George interposed with the shitist most clichéd advice ever. "When I was speaking in front of the Duke of Kent at the Royal Institute, it worked a treat. Afterwards the Duke himself came up and told me that my reading was....."

I left the room before George got into full flow with his bullshit-heavy story, making for my room to start learning my speech.

* * *

A few hours later the house was silent. Everybody was off having fun and I was left to slap together some crude slides to illustrate my talk tomorrow. I had lots of nice shots of the Andes, which I hoped my audience would enjoy; I was less confident about some of the jokes I had tried to work in. Around 10:30 as I was winding down my phone flashed and a picture message came through from Doug. It was of George with his hand up some riding girls skirt and his tongue down her throat.

I shook my head. George had done it again. He was such a piece of shit. Beth, the girl he had been seeing for the past year, was the sweetest, cutest little thing you had ever seen, she deserved better then him. George was such a slut for a Home Counties accent, he got hard as soon as he heard it, and if a title was mentioned, he just jumped on them. We had lost count of the number of times George had now cheated on Beth; the poor girl seemed none the wiser, George would just spin her some yarn and that was that.

George cheating on Beth was one thing, but what really pissed me off was the way he treated her generally. George was aloof with us, but with Beth it was even more pronounced. He acted as though going out with him must be some sort of honour for her and constantly belittled and demeaned her, not in an obvious sort of way, but his general disregard for her feelings and self-absorbed antics all converged to give the impression of a thoroughly unhealthy relationship. We had all talked behind Georges back about his treatment of Beth; the thing we couldn't understand was why Beth stayed with him. Si had hypothesised George was either excessively well endowed, which seemed ludicrous, or that Beth felt some sort of obligation to him. We thought there must be some sinister, murky reason for her staying with him because she was such a popular, pretty girl and it wasn't as though her self esteem was low or anything like that. The clue seemed to be in the disparity of their backgrounds. Beth came from a poor one and George from a rich one; it was clear George held some power over Beth or she would have left him long ago. Every time I saw Beth with her sad eyes, I just wanted to comfort her.

I was rocked back in my chair, contemplating Beth and what I would like to do to comfort her when I was startled from my reverie by the front door bell. Considering that it was quite late for uninvited visitors, I assumed that it was probably either one of the guys back very early, or George bringing back his polo whore for a ride. Cursing which ever idiot it was that had forgotten their keys; I made no effort to cover my naked torso and shuffled with cold feet down the stairs in nothing more then baggy trackies.

Adrenalin flooded my system and my heart palpitated as I saw her petite outline through the frosted glass.

I opened the door.

"Beth. Hi."

"Hey Ben, how are you? Sorry to come knocking so late...."

"Not a problem. Come in."

Its amazing how many things can flash through your mind in milliseconds, already I am calculating scenarios that may have lead Beth to my door at this late hour, I am also trying to bring my heartbeat down as I'm sure Beth can see the organ trying to hammer out of my naked chest; still I am amazed by the apparition of the creature of my fantasy.

I close the door after Beth and see she's shivering. It's cold outside and she's dressed for going out. Her alabaster skin contrasts deliciously with the silky darkness of her hair and the natural rouge of her lips. She always seems so vulnerable, but the shortness of her little dress, midnight blue, and her petite frame dominated by mine in this narrow hallway exacerbate it.

"Seems like you've knocked on the wrong door if you were looking for the party." Beth smiled charitably at my lame joke; while fidgeting with her purse.

"Sorry about the state of undress, I thought it was just one of the lads."

"It's fine. I'm not disturbing you or anything am I?" Beth's gaze rested on my Pecs for a few moments longer then discretionary. I wasn't heavily built, but I was well proportioned and worked to maintain a decent level of definition.

"No, not at all. Would you like a cup of tea?" I enquired.

"Oh, well. Umm. Yes please." Beth stuttered, pushing some of her shiny dark locks behind her ear. Beth is one of those girls who always appear immaculate; yet her perfection was one of unstudied loveliness: she was blessed with features that required very little to underline their elegance. High cheekbones and a cute little nose were topped by the sorrowful eyes which just seemed to beg to be loved. Her taut dress gave a good indication of her b-cup breasts, flat stomach, narrow waist and tight ass.

I led Beth through to our kitchen; she seemed agitated and clearly had something on her mind. She must have known George was out and about, so why was she here?

The kettle bubbled slowly as an awkward silence stretched between us. I enjoyed spending time with Beth, but it was something that happened less frequently now-a-days. When we had been in halls together, I had seen a lot of her as we had always gone out with the group of girls she was friends with. I had always gotten along with her best out of that group but I had missed her company recently as she came out less and was rarely around the house as George visited her only when he had nothing he'd rather be doing. I'd wanted to keep in touch with Beth, but felt awkward contacting her as she was a 'mate's ' girlfriend, and my feelings for her were complicated at best.

Away from George Beth had always been mischievous with a wicked sense of humour. I missed the old Beth who I used to have such fun with; George had darkened her natural joie de vivre and made her hesitant where once she was certain. As Beth stood there with her bewitching eyes, I was reminded of how her mood so matched the dark one from the poem I always thought of when I saw her, Beth not Bess, but they had the same black eyes that so bedevilled the highwayman.

"If you were looking for George you've missed him by a few hours." I tell Beth this through gritted teeth, knowing full well that George is probably getting his dick sucked by some tramp right now. I've considered discussing George with Beth before, but I'm sure she has her reasons for putting up with him and it is hardly my place to tell her what I think is good for her. (Which would be my cock scraping her cervix.)

"Yeah... It wasn't really George I was after. I spoke to Doug earlier this evening when George and the lads came round to pick up Melanie and he told me about you being here all on your own... I was supposed to be going out with some of my girls tonight, but, well, I needed to see you instead."

Beth wrung her purse through her hands as she spoke, her eyes fixed on a point just left of my feet, then, as she finished her breathless explanation of sorts she raised those smouldering eyes to gauge my reaction.

Beth's motivations made my head spin and I moved safely behind the kitchen counter as I felt my penis come alive. What was my next move? Did I confess my love; offer her a shoulder to cry on as she realized what a cunt George was, or just make her a nice cup of tea?

As it was I was stricken completely mute, forcing Beth to take a deep breath and push on with detailing her reasons for calling on me at nearly 11 o'clock when she knew I was alone in the house.

"I just couldn't go on with the girls, I've been so worried. I found it earlier, when I was having my shower; a lump." Beth was wringing her poor purse through her hands, twisting it as she fought back tears.

"Oh Beth." I came around the counter and wrapped my arms around her, drawing her small body against my hard chest, realizing to late how much flesh both of us had exposed as my hot and heavy penis in its thin cotton cloak pressed against the cool silk of her stomach. Beth sobbed against my shoulder as she released some of the emotional tension that must have been building within her since her worrying discovery. Her small hands linked around my lower back, pulling my body torturously tight to her shuddering frame. I tried to console Beth by stroking her hair and gently kissing the top of her head, while trying to convince my penis that it was bad manners to make a full appearance while a girl was crying.

Gradually Beth's chest stopped heaving against mine, and she drew away, mascara running down her face. Wordlessly she withdrew to our small downstairs toilet to wash her face, leaving me to consider why I was her first port of call. I made two cups of tea in mismatched mugs. I selected a Bugs Bunny mug for Beth which left me with the three lion's emblazoned England football mug. Beth emerged from the toilet, face purged of make-up. I handed her the Bugs Bunny mug and motioned that we should sit on the sofa.

"So you felt a lump this evening?"

"Yes, while I was in the shower. I was just cleaning myself, running my hands around and I felt it. A horrible, nasty, lump."

"Beth, it's probably nothing to worry about, you're so young and nearly 90% of breast lumps are benign."

"My Gran died from cancer, only last year, I don't know what my Mum would do, or my sister. They were so proud when I got into university here, and now it's all over..."

"Beth, you are not dying, there is absolutely no reason to think like that, I'm sure once you get a doctor to look at it in the morning they will tell you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about."

"I'm so worried though Ben, I've never felt anything like it, I've always been so healthy. I was just wondering if you would have a look. I'm so worried it's cancerous..."

I took Beth's hands before she could work herself up again.

"Now, you know I'm not a qualified doctor, but if you want I can come with you to the GP first thing in the morning."

Beth bit her lip and tears grew again in her eyes.

"I can't wait until the morning Ben, I need to know now, please, please can you have a look at me; I know you've got loads of experience. Please, can you just check me out?"

"I don't know Beth; what about George, won't he think it's a bit...weird?"

"Fuck George. What do you think his response would be? I'd disgust him; he'd probably have me put down like one of his fathers horses. And since when do doctors discriminate against whose breasts they examine?"

Beth had a point, as a doctor I could hardly make an issue out of which patient needed attention. On the other hand I hardly felt capable of performing a professional examination on her knowing we were the only two in the house, in a situation far removed from the clinical professionalism of a surgery's examination room. Almost against my will I imagined my lips fastening onto the cherry nipples lurking below her top, my hands hypothetically filled with her ivory mounds as my teeth brought gasps from her mouth.

I subconsciously moved away from Beth as I drew myself up on the sofa.

"Pretty please Ben."

Beth was giving me the eyes, tear filled and pleading; I couldn't stand it. I didn't care what it looked like if anyone walked in, or the pain it would cause me having to intimately handle this beautiful little thing in a strictly non-sensual manner. I had to take away as much of her pain as possible, how could I refuse her?

I sighed.

"Alright Beth, I'll have a look, but I'm warning you, I don't really know what I'm doing and you will still have to go and get checked out properly. Okay?"

"Yes Ben, thank you. Can you come with me tomorrow? I don't want to tell George."

Great, I thought to myself, more secrets and lies. Not that I had a problem going behind Georges back, it was just that I could see things getting complicated, fast.

I stood up. Beth was fidgeting on the sofa.

"So, how do you want to do this?" I asked her.

Beth looked nervous again.

"Somewhere a bit more private, your room?" she suggested.

I nodded and led the way, glancing furtively around even though I knew none of the lads would be back for hours yet.

Once in my room Beth perched on the edge of my bed, her bare feet and knees pressed together; hands in her lap.

"Okay, if you would like to take your dress and bra off Beth, then I can have a little look at you."

I turned away to give Beth a bit of privacy; busying myself with making sure the door was locked and sorting through my medical satchel to find some examination gloves. I heard the slow slither of a zipper as her dress split down the back, then the swish of satin as it pooled at her feet.

"Ben."

I turned.

"I can't undo my bra. My hands are shaking."

"Okay, don't be nervous Beth, there is nothing to worry about, I won't do anything your uncomfortable with. Would you like me to leave the room for a minute?"

"No. Can you just take it off for me? It doesn't really matter does it? You're going to be touching my breasts in a minute anyway."

Her logic seemed sound, so I stepped towards Beth; who stood a good head shorter then me in heels. Bare foot next to my bed she seemed tiny; her eyes flickered to my face momentarily then dropped as she seemed to steel herself for what was coming. I used the opportunity to let my eyes rove her body. She was wearing matching bra and panties of intricate black lace which contrasted beautifully with her unmarked alabaster skin. I longed to throw her down on my bed and ravage her; running my tongue into her cute little belly button suddenly seemed like the best idea in the world, yet I tried to clear my head and take a professional approach.

Beth let out a small gasp as my fingers grazed lazily over her back and between her narrow shoulders blades before unfastening her bra catch. I eased the straps off of Beth's shoulders, marvelling at the smoothness of her skin and drinking in the faint coconut milk fragrance which emanated off of her skin.

"Thank you." She said, taking the bra from my hands and finishing its removal herself. Beth turned to face me and I was treated to my first view of her bare chest.

As I've said, her tits weren't huge, little more then a handful, but they were perfect. Defying gravity they sat high on her chest, pale areolas with puffy pink nipples, not quite the cherry I had fantasised about, but still very appetising.

"Okay Beth, I am just going to put these gloves on and then we can begin your examination. If at any point you want me to stop, just say so. Now, would you prefer to sit?"