Anthony and Ava

She dutifully obeyed, with her chest rising high on the intake and then freezing still. He took his eyes away from the monitor and watched her raised chest, breasts pushed up, straining against the fabric of the gown. He could make out the form of her nipples. He shook his head and looked back at the monitor to snap a few pictures before she let out the air.

While she recovered to prepare for the next breath, Anthony rested the weight of his arm across her chest. It's a bitch of being an echo tech, the danger of arm strain, and the number one reason people leave the career, so it was usual to rest at every chance. His forearm pressed down onto her breast tissue through the gown. He wasn't really trying to perv on her doing this, since it was normal procedure, but it felt pleasant to push down on her breast, and he liked how her tits bulged out a little. Then he lifted his arm up into the air again.

"One more time for me. All the way in. Good. Hold that still now." This time he finished capturing the pictures quickly and had time to gaze at her chest for a few seconds before letting her exhale.

"Now we're going to move to a second position." He put the wand back in its holster and reached over to wrap his hands around each of her arms, pulling up. "Roll onto your side, towards me about half way. That's right. And slide your left arm towards your head."

As she rolled up her gown fell open on her left side, and, because he had her arms pinned she couldn't reach over to close it. Most of her breast up to and including the edge of her nipple was visible. It was such a beautiful contour; her young breasts so taut and round.

He blinked a few times, and looked up to make sure the mask was still on securely. "Okay, very good, Ava, now just hold that position while I take some pictures in this window." She obeyed his breathing instructions again while he worked the scanner.

"The good news is we're half way done. We have two more views to take. The not-so-good news is those are the easy ones. Do you remember how we talked about your grandma having the 'glass window' that made it easy for me to take the pictures? Unfortunately, your case is trickier. Every person is different."

He waited to see if she had any questions, but she was silent.

"The third view is called the apical four-chamber acoustic window. This one comes in from the side and gives a great shot across all four chambers of the heart. That's why the doc likes it, but it's hard to capture well." He paused, thinking of how to best frame this next sentence. "I have to apologize in advance; some patients find that this one can be uncomfortable. It shoots into the heart from over the breast."

He noticed that Ava put her lips together and swallowed when he said that, but she didn't say anything.

"So we'll start, and you let me know if you get uncomfortable. Okay?" She nodded hesitantly. He waited to make sure she understood.

"Okay," she said quietly.

"So we'll keep you mostly in that same position, on your side, but tip you back a little bit more," and with that he reached out and pushed on her right shoulder to angle her body away from him. She felt that sense of falling backwards, tensing her ab muscles to stay balanced. He caught her shoulder and steadied her at the correct angle.

Because her left arm was stretched out by her head—pinned to the table by her weight and his grasp—when he tipped her, the side of her gown stretched open and her breast was uncovered. He felt awkward because it probably seemed to her like he intentionally popped her breast out by pushing her backwards. Her mouth opened and her tongue licked her lips nervously, but she didn't reach to take off her eye mask.

He stared at her full, round breast. This pose was awesome. He thought, with not a little guilt, essentially I've asked a pretty girl, hey, how about you strip to the waist for me, lie on your side, and lean back and arch your back and show me what you've got for tits?

Her dark pink areola was bold and gently sloped where it stood out from the curve of the surrounding tissue. He remembered his Tanner stages of human development: puffy nipples were a Tanner stage four that got stuck—a small minority of women didn't progress until their mid-twenties to stage five, when the areola retreats to the surface of the breast as a flatter, pigmented circle. Ava's stage four titties had the effect of making her look youthful, he thought. Preferences for puffy nipples among guys varied, but for him it was incredibly sexy—a quiet and shy girl with such bold nips was surprising somehow, and she also had a chunky papilla, the actual nipple bump with the milk ducts. Her tits would go well with his big dick, he thought idly as he sighed, filled with yearning to have this girl as more than a patient.

"Perfect, if you can hold it like that, I'll start making some passes," he said.

He applied a liberal amount of the acoustic gel onto the tip of the wand and swiped from the centerline of her chest at her neck down and to his right, across her breast. He stopped a couple of inches short of her delicate nipple. The next pass he approached more closely and she shifted her weight noticeably in response.

For a young woman like Ava with firm breast tissue, and in the supine position, the nipple sits up high on the chest, above the heart. He needed to get near it or at least around it to try to find the window, but the large size of her breast made this more difficult. It was tough engineering to bounce sound down to the heart and catch the reflection through all that tissue. She squirmed as he did yet another pass, getting closer to her nipple. Then on a pass from the midline—pushing hard so the wand bulged a wave of soft breast tissue ahead of it until it lifted up and then bumped into the areola up—he found her limit. She shifted her torso on the table.

"This is, um . . . it's a little uncomfortable for me," she said tentatively, apologetically.

"Yes, sorry, let me give you a moment and then we'll try to get the pictures. This is the toughest view." She instinctively put a hand over her naked breast when he pulled his wand away, breathing deeply to recover from his attention. He punched some commands on the console then returned to look at her. It was quiet in the room.

"So do you have any fun plans for the weekend?"

She closed her lips, turned her head towards him, formed a small pout, paused, and then as it became clear from his continuing silence that politeness demanded an answer, she started to say, "I . . ." but had to clear her throat. "I don't have anything planned." she said quietly, not inviting further discussion. Anthony tried to detect if she was annoyed. She hid it if so.

"If you're ready, I'll try to snap the pictures. This time hold your breath about half way, and try to stay very still."

"Okay," she said, but she hadn't moved her hand from her breast. Anthony waited. He knew that she understood what he wanted and there was no need to rush her. Finally her hand started to slide, then it was off her breast and back to her side. He heard her exhale as she raised her courage to expose herself for him again.

"Breathe in, and hold. Good." He brought the wand to her breast again, this time playing it directly to and over her nipple. The papilla popped down and back up again as he slowly ground the wand around on her nip.

"Hold very still," he commanded. "That's it."

She exhaled and before she could protest he ordered, "Once more please. In, and hold. Good." This time he started to the outside of the breast and ran the wand inwards, pressing hard, watching her firm tissue respond. When he approached her nipple he noticed that it was standing up, firm, erect. So tender and beautiful. Her body couldn't help respond to the stimulation. He ran the wand back and forth over her nipple slowly, teasing it, watching the pink skin depress ahead of the tip and pop back behind it. He was fascinated.

"Okay, let that out and breathe normally . . . This is a difficult case. I need to try that again with a different gel."

He moved off her body and put the wand back in the holster, pivoting to his screen. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ava sit up on the table and yank off her eye mask. There was heat there in her expression. Oh shit, he thought. I let myself do too much there. He tensed up, anticipating that she would make the next move.

*****

Ava

That was too far. She had been barely holding it together for this exam; had even withstood showing her chest for this guy, out of medical necessity she assumed, but when he started rubbing his stick around her breast—was he just playing around with her tits?—that was past her limit. She was a good girl and did what she was supposed to, but this wasn't right. She had to see what this guy was doing; confront him and get to the bottom of his behavior.

She sat up quickly and yanked the mask off, but was surprised; the room was darker than she remembered. And it was quiet. It disoriented her. There the guy was at his station calmly typing commands and leaning in to examine the images on the screen. Images of her heart, they must be. She was ready to say something, give him a piece of her mind—just a moment ago she was sure he was feeling her up with all that poking on her breast and she was hopping mad.

But now her emotions were dissipating. The resolve to confront him was leaving her. What was happening? She knew herself, that she was often unassertive in cases like this, too willing to give the other person the benefit of the doubt. But damn it, he had done something wrong, so she screwed up her courage.

"Anthony. Look—" she started, in a confident, confrontational voice. She attempted to express her anger, but from what her mother and her sister said, even when she felt strong emotions, they didn't convey to the listener—somehow she was too nice, they didn't hear what she was trying to say. It had always been frustrating, people in her life not taking her seriously when she was upset. But she had caught this guy—this hot ultrasound tech, some kind of lady's man player—red handed, damn it, playing around with her boobs, taking advantage of her in a vulnerable situation, and he must face the consequences. She must confront him.

"Look," she said again, boldly. "Anthony, we need to . . . "

Her voice faded off as he ignored her. He was engrossed in the details of his computer screen, the moving pictures of her heart beating.

"It's not bad," he mused to himself, and then to her, as if she hadn't spoken at all, "You can look here, your apicals, they are fuzzy but I think we're close. Here, compare those to the first views we did. See how good those are?" Before she could proceed along the direction she had intended for this conversation, he pointed to other windows on the screen and she reluctantly followed along, seeing very clear images of her heart beating. She understood what he meant, that the latest images didn't have the clarity of the earlier ones.

She was confused. Had he been just doing his job after all? Was she overreacting? She had a hard time believing that, the way he seemed to be fondling her nipple just moments ago, but now sitting on the exam table clutching her gown over her chest, surrounded by all of this medical equipment and his fancy explanations, it was easy to be intimidated.

He continued. "This is the series I just took. This here," he pointed at a moving blotch in the video image, in the way only ultrasound techs can do it, making it seem like you are blind not seeing what they claim to see clearly—it reminded her of when she'd seen fetal ultrasounds where everyone else was raving but she couldn't see a single thing that looked human.

"That's your atrium, and over here is the ventricle. The pulsing is your blood. Pretty cool, isn't it?"

"Yeah . . . I guess," she said, her anger evaporating. She frowned in uncertainty, watching his face as he stared at the monitor intently, trying to problem solve the image quality. He was an attractive man when he was working. So serious. But what about wanting to ask him if what he had done to her was necessary? Would it be silly to challenge him now?

"The problem is it's only showing two of the four chambers. I know Doc Michaels wants the full heart imaged here."

He swung from the computer to face Ava. "The thing is, like I mentioned, for the apical series it's tricky to find the acoustic window. Different parts of the body, different people, the tissue varies widely." He seemed hesitant, even a little shy, to be discussing this with her. How did he go from playing with her tits to being embarrassed to talk to her face-to-face? "And women have quite different, you know . . . tissue." He pointed to his own breast for clarification.

"Have you heard of high-density versus low-density breast tissue?" He paused and she shook her head. "You have the high-density kind, and it makes diagnostic imaging more challenging. It means you have more functional breast tissue and less fat. It's something that will also affect your mammograms. Later in your life, I mean."

"Oh," she said with apprehension, not sure she was comfortable talking about her breasts with this man.

"Those are the cons. On the positive side, the high density tissue is firmer and holds its shape better, even with larger breasts." He blurted this out and immediately blushed red as he realized how that sounded to her.

When he delivered this line, her frustration about his behavior faded to amusement. "Oh, really?" she said aloud, smiling to herself a little. Did this guy just tell me I have hot tits? What would Adriana say if she could hear this, that I've just been told by the medical establishment that I have grade A breasts?

He reached to the shelf and pulled a bottle down. "So I'd like to try again with a different gel." She was uncertain and held still.

"We'll get the rest of your pictures done and then send you over to Doc Michaels."

She had intended to stop the exam, but somehow the way he appealed to her changed her mind. Should she let him railroad her? It didn't seem right, but she wasn't entirely sure of herself.

What the hell, she figured. Maybe he was just doing his job, or maybe he was playing with her. Would it matter once it was over? Would this give her something to brag about with Adriana, later? A small burst of confidence flowed in her and she thought, wasn't I looking for some kind of adventure?

She felt the eye mask still around her head, slack at her neckline. "Wait, do I still need this?"

"No," he said in a conciliatory tone. "Whatever lets you relax the best. We can check your heart rate again if you want, to make sure."

The way he said it sounded like too much bother. Okay, she thought, I give in. I'll be a good girl and go along with him. Whatever this hot guy wants to do with me, he will, and I'll just have it over with.

"Okay, I'll wear it." She lowered herself back to a prone position on the table and slid the mask up over her eyes, fixing how the straps ran over her ears. Even though she was annoyed at his insistence, actually the mask did help because it more easily let her get back to her beach fantasy. It was useful to disassociate from the reality of the exam room, now that she'd set the goal to tough this out.

Now where was I, she thought. The waves roll in, a gentle breeze is in my face, I'm an idle, rich woman who inherited a fortune and wondering how I am possibly going to spend it all, resting in my lounger under a large umbrella in the tropical sand. And a handsome man with dark eyes and a chiseled face leans down to attend to me, serving me champagne. I'm dressed in a fabulous bikini and cover up, just purchased from the most fashionable shop on the strand where all the women were jealous of how well it fit me. My servant is mesmerized by my beauty; he apologizes profusely when he spills the champagne because he can't take his eyes off me.

Okay, this is not bad. I can make this work, she thought.

Then she felt Anthony's hands on her shoulders, positioning her against some sort of wedge behind her to achieve the desired angle. Then his hands were on her gown, fumbling with the lapel, opening it. Her tension rose as she knew she was being disrobed again, her breasts to be put on display, but she channeled it into her fantasy instead.

"Ma'am," her handsome servant might say to her, reaching down to adjust her top. "This is a nude beach, we will let you get a good tan now. And what beautiful tits you have, ma'am, I must say you have the most exceptional breast tissue." She started to smile at her imagination, almost chuckled, then stopped herself. She hoped that Anthony was busy with his machine and didn't notice that.

"Ava," Anthony said softly. "Sorry to bother you. It looks like you are relaxed now, which is good. I'll change the gels and start again."

"Okay," she said dreamily. Do what you need to do, she added to herself. Her beach dream was calling her back, hard. She decided to give into it. And when she did something, she didn't do it half-assed.

Her servant was tending to her when she felt the pressure of alcohol wipes on her skin. "Yes, I do need sunscreen," she said to him in her imagination. "You can rub it all over. Don't forget my tits."

She felt the strokes go around her breast, closer to the tip each pass. Her nipple tingled, anticipating the touch. When it came, it was gentle, and pleasant, as her flesh was squeezed. A sensation ran down her spine. "Mmmm," she said.

Oh shit. Her eyes popped open under the mask in alarm. It was pitch black, not surprisingly. That was supposed to be in her dream world. Did she say it out loud?

*****

Anthony

I've been naughty, he thought. A bad boy, just like Nadine often said. Ungowning her was okay, running the wand on the skin of her torso was okay, but playing with her tits was definitely not okay.

He intended to be good from here on. For the rest of the exam he would go by the book. Get the apical and subcostal views done and get her out of here before he got in more trouble with this beautiful woman. But then she put the eye mask on again and lay back on the exam table, so peaceful, so perfect. Something seemed changed about her. A confidence, or a new state of relaxation she had put herself into.

When he stood next to her and reached down to prepare to redo her apical view, something happened. He couldn't explain. She was so attractive, the temptations of her curves so entrancing, that before he knew it he had flipped both sides of her gown wide open to expose her entire chest. Her breasts were full and round and naked before him. He shook his head in wonder. So much for his resolutions; he was like a chain smoker. In the same breath as he vowed to stop smoking he used the smoldering butt of the last cigarette to light the next one. Ava's beauty was too great for his self control.

Well, there she was, her body waiting for him, those tits right there so beautiful with creamy skin and pink nips. He got to work, wiping the old gel off her torso, noticing the way her firm tissue was resilient to his touch, enjoying the feel of her breasts. She didn't seem to be minding this nearly as much as before. What had happened with her? Just a little while ago she was a shy girl and now she didn't flinch when he spread her gown wide open.

Then when he was cleaning off her breast he heard it. A small hum came from her right when he was carefully pinching her beautiful, hardening nipple with the wipe; he might have even called it a slight moan. He looked at her face; her mouth showed the faint trace of a smile. Could he have possibly heard that right? It was more likely he was letting his imagination get out of control.

"Let's put this arm up by your head. That's it." He positioned her so that her left breast was elevated. "I'm sorry, this may tickle. Try to hold still. I'm going to scan from your side."