College Clinic Doctorbyescriterra©
Submitted here is a reworking of an earlier piece posted to the now-defunct blog I mentioned in the description to the last item I placed here at Literotica. With apologies for being so engaged with the characters and their pecadilloes in the story I am currently working on, I have taken a brief break to---I hope---improve this story of a female doctor's interesting job at a college clinic and her opportunity to help a co-ed with some direction and guidance for a certain kind of activity with her boyfriend. ---Escriterra
As the only female doctor on staff at the health center of a large midwestern university, my work has afforded me numerous occasions when I'm asked (even begged) to describe certain of my work experiences to "the girls"---four girlfriends whom I've known since college. We gather three or so times a year at a spa or for a cruise or just to kick back for a few days away from husbands and boyfriends and, now, a couple of kids among us. All five of us are successful women in satisfying careers, mostly happy in our relationships, and always supportive of each other when any one of us hits a rocky patch along the way. I am the only one, however, with a job that includes directing healthy, young men to disrobe for me, to climb up on my examination table on all fours and drop their chests to the padded surface so that their firm naked butts are high in the air with their lovely cocks dangling freely beneath them.
You can see that my friends would want to know how things are going at my job.
And it is quite nice employment. Being at a university clinic means the patients are mostly college students. My university serves a traditional college-aged, residential student body. Freshmen and sophomores are generally required to live in the dorms. All this means that on any given day the odds are not inconsequential that I'll see one of the male athletes or an embarrassed fraternity boy who's done something stupid during the unending series of greek pranks, or even just a studious chemistry major who happens to have the kind of lean, firm body that looks so enticing posed with his legs spread apart as he bends over for a prostate check.
I occasionally entertain our giggling group with a tale or two. They especially liked the telling of my experience with an initially truculent track athlete. (Sprinters, you know, have incredible butts.) This young man required two firm smacks on his naked ass along with an admonition that his coach would hear of his insolence during the required examination if he didn't comply with my directions to spread his legs and bend over.
Only Connie, one of our "group of five," remains unmarried. I'm hopeful that Eric, my boyfriend of a couple of years, will eventually be my husband. Things seem to be progressing in that direction. I love him, and I know he loves me. It will be a very nice life, and I'm so lucky to have found him. It took quite a while of looking for a man who understands the whole "equality" thing---in the workplace, in the kitchen, in the bedroom.
Maybe it's because I went to an all-girl high school. I count that as perhaps the single most important thing that has led to the success I now enjoy. Yes, I dated in high school, but without guys in the classroom there was not the constant loss of focus, the constant primping that invariably interferes with sustained thinking and working. My entire class got college scholarships.
And, yes, we were a normal group of girls---some pretty, some not so much, some interested in social work, some in teaching, some in science. I am absolutely convinced, though, that my high school experience prepared me better to work hard in college as a pre-med major, to master the organic chemistry, to nail the calculus, to survive internship, to pass the boards, than a co-ed high school ever could have done.
Along the way I had plenty of boyfriends, but I suppose my high school experience predisposed me toward not taking macho, self-indulgent crap from a guy. That's why I love Eric so much. He's my man---all man---but he's a chameleon in the bedroom, sometimes whisking me there in his strong arms to ravage me and pound me in the way I'm desperate for, but occasionally letting me set the tone and the activities that will get me off in the most satisfying way.
Lately, on two incredible, mind-blowing occasions over the past couple of months, that has included burying a strapon dildo deep into Eric's ass as he moans and squirms beneath me. We talked about doing it after a crazy night when I brought home some of the "doctor equipment" from the clinic in order to set the stage for a sexy role play. I had my smock, my stethoscope, tongue depressor, latex gloves, temperature wand---many of the accouterments that define a medical examination. I wanted to surprise Eric with a little in-home medical consultation that included a very thorough exam to check him out "just to be sure all your sexual equipment is in good working order."
Dr. Greene would be very thorough, I assured him.
We had such fun! What surprised me, though, was how much he got into the role. He pretended to be so embarrassed when I told him it was time to drop trou so I could check him for any sign of hernia.
(Embarrassed young men in my exam room, their reddening cheeks speaking volumes about their discomfort at having a female doctor manipulating their genitals, have always been my favorite patients. Go figure. There's just something about---what?---toying with their innocence?---having them in a situation that completely reverses gender roles? Or maybe I'm overanalyzing and it's just the fact that I have my latex-gloved hands on, and in, healthy young men. Whatever. But I can tell you that having a college junior from the men's basketball/swim/track/etc. team who's in great shape with toned muscles and who has to get an annual exam as part of his athletic scholarship requirements is a delight behind the closed door of my examination room.)
After Eric's hernia check came the necessity for him to bend over in front of me and touch his toes so I could spread his asscheeks wide in order to do a visual inspection for any signs of hemorrhoids.
I have always loved Eric's ass. Even on our first meeting, when he walked into a summer evening cocktail reception for one of the donors to the medical complex, I noticed his nice butt as it rounded out so deliciously in his linen pants. The first time I saw him naked, I asked him to turn around for me just so I could enjoy the view. He has strong, firm glutes that I love to grab and squeeze, so spreading him open for that part of our little role play was exciting both because I had his gorgeous naked ass firmly in my grasp and because it exposed his cute little asshole to my view.
"This is so embarrassing, Dr. Greene," he said as I looked at his adorable pink starfish.
Grinning, I lectured him as part of our drama: "You must have this kind of examination regularly, Mr. Destin. It is important that any signs of trouble with your urogenital system be caught early." I released his cheeks and told him to straighten up. "Now, let's proceed with your prostate exam."
Bless him! Maybe Eric really did have some kind of embarrassing experience with a doctor at some point in his past, but when he turned around, his face was red. I took his hand, noting that his palms were sweaty. (What a good actor!) "Now, now, Mr. Destin, don't be concerned. Even though I will be very thorough, I will be gentle when my fingers are inside you."
And on and on it went that night. I discovered how much Eric enjoys ass play. Away from the restrictions of professional decorum, I was free to play out my wildest fantasies as a doctor in charge of a naked male. In the process, I learned of my man's eagerness to be spread open, to have his anus caressed, to be penetrated with my fingers, and to be jacked off at the same time, causing perhaps the most explosive orgasm I have ever seen him have.
The evolution to strapon man-fucking had begun for me. It had begun for Eric.
Certainly none of what Eric and I do is ever anything I share with "the girls." Yes, I occasionally enjoy titillating them with clinic tales, but I would never tell them about what I've done in my own bedroom with my man.
And that goes for what I'm about to share, too. The girls will never hear what I'm about to relate. Even Eric will never hear about this. Only the comfort of anonymity and the process of writing this alone at my computer allows me the opportunity to interrupt the story, as I know I will, in order to pleasure myself with fingers, lotion, and vibrator. And I will do this more than once because what occurred is without doubt---except for Eric---the most intensely erotic event I have ever experienced. The memory never fails to moisten my pussy, and I've replayed the scene countless times since it happened right before Christmas break.
Julie was a junior accounting major. She was not dazzlingly attractive in the way the sorority girls with that reputation on our campus are. No, Julie was a hidden gem with a great body that she usually didn't dress to accentuate and a pretty face generally unaccented by make-up. To look at her, you might think, "Prototypical uptight, middle-class, away-from-home-for-the-first-time college kid without a clue about the real world."
You would be very, very wrong.
I was taken aback by her straightforwardness in asking me questions during a visit for a pap smear. "Is there anything special I should do when I play with my boyfriend's ass to make sure I don't hurt him?" she inquired. I almost dropped the speculum.
Not wanting to miss the opportunity to provide important safe sex information---this is one of my duties in my job---I regained my composure to ask Julie what she meant.
"Well, Dr. Greene," she began, looking up at the ceiling in the little examination room, her arms folded across her stomach and lying on top of the gown she had donned for the procedure, "I like to stick my finger up inside of him when I give him BJs," she said, squirming a bit as I tried to make things as comfortable as possible for her. "He obviously likes it. He really starts groaning when I begin finger fucking him in the ass. He shoots a lot of cum when I do it."
Julie had been in to see me a few times during the two and a half years she'd been at the university. Our conversations had progressed to the point that I felt she considered me something of a confidant, and the last two visits she had been more frank with questions about sexual health. Before this examination, though, she never been this frank.
Finishing with her check-up, I eased her legs out of the stirrups and had her sit up. She hopped off the table and reached to the chair for her panties---thongs---as she continued talking.
"You know, I just want to make sure I don't hurt him or do anything that will turn him off."
"So you enjoy doing this to him?" I asked, walking to the short counter top to lay the speculum on the tray there and to package the culture specimen. "I mean, this isn't something that he's making you do because he likes it, but you don't really want to do it, is it?"
"Oh, no. Absolutely not!" she responded, looking up from buttoning her jeans to smile at me. "It's way cool to be inside him when he comes. His asshole spasms around my finger. That is so hot. You know, to be inside him when he shoots and feel him completely lose control. It's like I'm the one who's screwing him, and that's fun. Plus, his groaning is a turn-on, too. It's a different kind of moaning when he's the one getting fucked."
She looked at me, startled. "I'm sorry, Dr. Greene, I should have said that some other way--"
I raised my hand to interrupt her. "It's okay. I'm not offended." I smiled back at Julie to put her at ease. "I know it's difficult enough to talk about certain things, and if you have to think about how to say them in a way that's not how you talk about them normally, well, that can get you tongue-tied." I pulled off the latex gloves I had used for Julie's exam and tossed them in the receptacle. "Just say what you mean. I won't be offended to hear you say, 'fuck' or 'asshole,'" I said, shrugging my shoulders. "It kind of comes with the territory in my line of work."
"You are the coolest doctor!" Julie said, reaching for her blouse. "Anyway, it wasn't even Jonas' idea for me to put my finger inside him when I give him blowjobs. I did it on my own the first time because one of my girlfriends asked one of my other girlfriends if she had ever done it. I got curious, and . . .." She just shrugged.
You can quote me that I remembered this conversation word for word. How could I not?
Julie was buttoning her blouse at this point, and I was trying to retain my professionalism as I walked to the stool I had been sitting on when she was in the stirrups. Taking a seat on the stool, I began marking her chart. My nipples were very hard. I can't remember if I was squirming on the stool, but it would not have surprised me. Julie was describing my own sexual turn-ons as she related, without embarrassment, it seemed, what she liked to do with---and to---her boyfriend.
I had thoroughly enjoyed both instances when I'd lubed up my strapon dildo and slid it inside a Eric's ass. I looked forward to future instances when we would play like that. I mean, I REALLY looked forward to them. So hearing Julie talk about this was messing with my mind, my ability to remain a professional who was helpfully giving some advice on intimate sexual matters to one of her patients.
"Well–-" I hesitated, wondering how far I should take the discussion. Julie continued, nonplused.
"We don't do it a lot, just occasionally, and I like it too much to risk anything that might want to make him stop doing it or that would hurt him when we play like that." She was finished dressing and stood looking at me, slightly chewing her lip. Her expression said, "Tell me this is okay. Please!"
"Ass play can be very erotic. There are more nerve endings around the anus than at most any other place on the body, and I bet you and your boyfriend have already discovered those other places, right?"
Julie nodded, a slight exhale indicating she was glad she wasn't in for a lecture about being perverted.
"So enjoy yourselves. But you're wise to take precautions. You have to be careful. No hangnails---ever!" She smiled. "And the cleanliness thing is extremely important."
I continued with the standard litany of dos and don'ts. Then I pushed the conversation a little.
"How many fingers have you put inside him at one time?" I asked.
Did I see her start to blush? Maybe I should back off.
"Usually only just one. It seems easier to work in and out like I'm screwing him. But I've put two inside him occasionally."
"Does he like it?"
"He seems to," she said, hopping up on the edge of the exam table, indicating that she really wanted to talk about this. "He has to be real turned on to take two, but I can tell when he's at that point."
I know what you're thinking: A university doctor shouldn't be having this kind of conversation with a student. I know I thought it. But what would you have done? I did have a responsibility to dispense information about safe sex along with prescriptions for birth control pills.
"All I can say, Julie, is that what you two do when you play with each other is your business as long as you both enjoy it and no one gets hurt. If he likes it when you put your fingers up inside him, and if you like it and don't feel pressured into doing it, then as long as you're careful and follow safe sex practices during anal play, you should go for it."
I was still sitting on the stool as we talked. Fortunately, my clinic smock, my blouse, and my bra concealed the fact that my nipples were hard with erotic arousal. God help me, so was my clit. I didn't want Julie to know this conversation was turning me on. I was struggling as I tried to maintain my role as her medical confidant.
It was a relief not to be concerned about my moistening pussy being noticed. (At least, not unless I really started lubricating, which would bring with it the tell-tale scent of female arousal. I would make sure that didn't happen.)
"So, this is something we can do to have fun and not worry?" She was truly concerned about doing him safely and well.
"Absolutely. And don't worry about being 'kinky' or 'perverted.' Lots of couples enjoy a little variety in their sex lives with some role playing that includes the guy being the one on the receiving end."
What a relief to get that out. No other conversation in three years of practice at the university clinic had ever gone into this level of detail on this subject. But Julie's expression told me I shouldn't worry about pressing on in response to the questioning look she was giving me.
"By 'receiving end,' I mean a strapon, Julie. If you've penetrated your boyfriend with fingers, and you both like it, haven't the two of you ever talked about using a strapon? You said that you liked the idea of being the one in charge of the sex when you stroke your fingers inside of him."
Julie's pupils dilated. (Yeah, I was still a doctor during this interchange, and I noticed the physical reaction telling me she was intensely interested.) "Well, um, yes, I guess I have thought of it." She looked down, again chewing her lip. "But I've never mentioned it to him. You know, I don't want to get into that whole, 'I'm not gay!' conversation that I worry he might start if I brought this up. I wouldn't want to jeopardize the fun we have now when I'm the one giving it to him with my fingers."
"But would you be okay with it?" I held her gaze, looking for a sign that she truly was interested for her own pleasure and not just because she thought her boyfriend would like it.
"Oh, yeah, Dr. Greene. I think I would like it a lot!"
She was enthusiastic, but then she backed away from that enthusiasm.
"But that is really a big step for us. I really do love Jonas, and I wouldn't mind it if we stayed together a long time. If doing this might jeopardize that in any way, whether it's because I'm just bad at it or because he thinks I'm pushing him into something, then I won't do it."
"Even at the expense of your own pleasure?" I asked, knowing what to expect in Julie's reaction to my question.
"Julie, your relationship with Jonas, if it's going to last and be anything meaningful, is going to have to be a 2-way street, right?"
"And he gets pleasure when you two have sex?"
Again, she nodded.
"Then-–" I let the implication hang in the air. Julie is smart. The implication didn't hang long.
"I'm dying to try it, Dr. Greene, and I think I'll enjoy it. I guess there's only one way to find out," she responded.
So what Julie was looking for all along was permission. She probably already knew where she was going to buy the strapon.
"It's just that I need some help with this." She wasn't exactly pleading for more information, but she was certainly leading the conversation.
At this point the thought did cross my mind that I was now at another fork in the road. One way was marked, "Professionalism." The other way was marked, "Do you know how exciting this would be?" I hesitated at the fork for, what---a nanosecond?
"This is just a guess, Julie, and please tell me if I'm off base here, but I think you've probably fantasized a lot about doing Jonas with a strapon. Is that right?"
Would she think I had crossed the line with the question? Would she think I had finally gotten too personal, even though she was the one who brought the subject up and continued asking for advice?
"Yeah, you're right," my patient responded, squirming a bit as she sat on the padded exam table. Julie blushed a little bit, but then rushed on, as though she wanted to prevent any chance that she would lose her nerve. "I saw a video once on the Internet---I swear, Dr. Greene, I just stumbled on it. It's not like I was looking for it." She crossed her legs as they dangled off the table. "But it was a little while after I started finger-fucking Jonas when I sucked his cock. And knowing how hot it was to be inside him with my finger when he came, well, seeing that video really got me thinking."