Dr. Zoptic Pt. 05 - Nudie Cuties

The tension broke when the buzzer fashioned to Zaftig's waist went off. My eyes widened when Zaftig, yelled "Damn," ripped the buzzer off its holster around her waist and threw it across the room. "That damn thing! I have to wear it laying down; it has to be nearby when I shower, when I'm taking a dump, when I sneak outside pretending I'm on a cigarette break ..."

Zaftig started to laugh hysterically. We hugged. She allowed me to kiss her on the lips but drew back.

Still gripping Zaftig in an embrace, I commented, "I've never heard you talk like this." I paused. "You came home to think," I spoke in a calming voice, "what do you need to think about? Why not tell me?"

"I have an offer, one I never expected," Zaftig started slowly. Any traces of tears were gone. She was now distant, here with me but not here at all, "I was called in by the university hospital president Dr Regina Windham, the University Hospital President. My heart went in my mouth when Dr Windham takes an imperious tone, 'I have two items have come across my desk about you Reba -- you don't mind my calling you by your first name, do you? -- Very well, Reba, one is serious, the other is somewhat comical.'"

"I nodded, ready to bend my neck to be decapitated," Zaftig recounted.

"Ok," I prodded her, "What happened?"

"Dr Windham explained the reason I was called in," Zaftig reported, "`Doctor Scott Thurmond, director of The Emergency Response etc Training Department needs an Assistant, a younger person with computer skills to help him with the University's computerization project. Owing to the comical item, your name cropped up. I reviewed your academic records: college and med school. I'm willing to send you for a few weeks training in mathematics and computer science -- University expense -- before you take up your duties.'''

"`And my internship?' I reminded Dr Windham." Zaftig looked at me with vacant eyes. She was still distant.

"`Oh,' says Dr Windham, `the assistant directorship counts as an internship and residency in Emergency Medicine,'" Zaftig continued her discourse, "`and the pay,' Windham shook her head, `and 9 -- 5 hours are a lot better,' declared Dr Windham, `We'll meet tomorrow morning at 6AM in the shower of the subbasement at the entrance to the Research Institute. I'll be there overnight and I have a busy day ahead of me. Shower time is the only time I have available. Being the Hospital President involves a lot more than sitting behind a desk and acting impervious.' In a softer voice she tells me, 'Sleep on it and we'll speak privately in the morning. Any questions?'"

"`Women in the internship program who've rotated through Dr Thurmond' s department say that he regards female interns as secretaries,'" I told Dr Windham.

"And Dr Windham's response?" I prodded Zaftig.

"Dr Thurmond is slated to retire in a year,' Dr Windham outlined her plans, 'Over that year, I will require him to use his accumulated leave time to phase him out and to allow his assistant to gradually take over. I'd like you to be that replacement. That is all.' Dr Windham dismissed me. I have to have my answer for Dr Windham by 6AM in the shower of the sub -- basement Institute, where she's inspecting one of the University Hospital's research projects," Zaftig informed me.

"Did Dr Windham tell you why your name came up?" I inquired.

"Oh, that was the comical item. Dr Windham laid a glossy photo on her desk that someone had sent her anonymously," Zaftig recounted the awkward scene.

"And your response?" I questioned.

"I told her," Zaftig recalled, "`Oh, that photo was taken by my classmates at a graduation party, after my classmates proned me in bed in an unclothed condition with Al Mandy, the most prominent features of which are my gluteal prominence sticking up in the air and Al's penis experiencing tumescence as the result of vasodilation secondary to physical contact.'"

"What did Dr Windham say to that? I am anxious to hear what she had to say," I was caught between amazement and incredulity.

Zaftig looked perplexed. "At first, Dr Windham said nothing. Then she laughed hysterically. The photo and the note accompanying it prompted her to come across the Dr Zaftig films and found them entertaining," Zaftig reported, "Dr Windham. She'd want to share her copies of the film with friends in Hollywood."

"You are going to take the offer," I asked.

"I don't know!" Zaftig was on the verge of tears again, "Am I walking out on all that I've worked for and wanted to be?"

"No, you are dealing your nemesis Carter Plessinger, a double fuck -- you," I informed Zaftig. To her shocked look, I gave her the news, "Carter's ex -- girl friend Ashleigh Keystone agreed to an intense girl -- on -- girl scene and a shower scene where Ashleigh will explain men's attraction to girl -- on -- girl porn, a favorite of her lost love."

•••

In the fertility clinic, Al called on me, "Ashley, you certainly have some interesting ideas about the locker room scene discussing men's attraction to lesbian porn. Perhaps, Ms Ehrlich could explain what's required in this particular nudie cutie. Erica?"

"Not much to it," I ran through what I knew of the script, "You take your clothes off in the locker room and shower with camera following you, stand in a communal shower with more experienced actresses watching you."

"You render your lines -- girl talk about men I general," Al explained, "your ex, we'll call him Cameron, in particular in the locker and the shower."

"Do I wear anything in this movie?"

"Naturally, not in the girl -- girl scene," Al explained, "But as an extra, playing a receptionist, nurse or a student, in various scenes you'd wear the special Dr Zoptic costume."

"Some fully clothed scenes?" Ashleigh chuckled.

"Filling in as an extra in the Dr Zoptic outfit means," Al added, "You wear a lab coat which barely reaches thigh high black fish net stockings, Erica?"

Ashleigh chuckled when I added, "The getup affords men a peek at what they buy these movies for."

Smoothly Al slid a paper over the glass topped mahogany desk. The document was entitled ACTRESS' RELEASE OF PERFORMER'S RIGHTS. "Then," Al, with a smile tendered the document, "if you're committed, it's time to sign. I intend to shoot the first take of the locker and shower scene tomorrow night."

After signing as requested, Ashleigh stood, straightened her clothes and readied to leave.

"One small ritual before you go," Al asked Ashleigh to remain, "We need a dress rehearsal."

Shaking her head with a chuckle, Ashleigh corrected, "You mean an undressing scene."

"A short rehearsal," Al explained, "will give you the confidence to concentrate on the scene, undressing and showering in the confusion of cameramen shuffling and moving equipment about."

"Also," I interjected, "Al needs to see if you have scars, stretch marks, patches of discolored skin that he might need body makeup to cover up."

"Does Al do this with every aspiring starlet," Ashleigh asked.

"This maybe a Dr Zoptic film but you're the star," I reminded her. "Dr Zoptic fans admire pudgy little Becky Barton for her sheer audacity, but the eyes are on the long -- legged dollies in the supporting cast."

"On to the showers," Al pointing the direction, declared, "Lets wash up and head home."

"Can I ask?" Ashleigh paused, "How will your skit humiliate Carter?"

•••

In the apartment with Zaftig, Zaftig related a joke about Dr Windham that she picks female directors of different departments because she likes to hold her private conferences in the shower or the sauna.

"Men are less comfortable being put on display for a woman," I observed, "than vice -- versa. Go to the meeting, hop in the shower with the boss lady, take the job. It'll be good practice -- Al is shooting the shower scene tomorrow night. What would a Dr Zoptic movie be like without her running into the shower, big boobs bobbing,"

"Big butt bouncing," Zaftig interjected, "because she's running behind."

"Al sent home a short excerpt, he wants you to recite," I handed Zaftig her script.

•••

Opening the door to the locker room at the Fertility clinic, Ashleigh and I followed Al passed from the dark, subdued lighting of the clinic into blinding light reflecting off a white linoleum floor, recently disinfected.

Unlike the cool, sweet smelling chilled air blowing through the clinic, the harsh smell of bleach and ammonia permeated the still tepid air of the locker and the darkened adjacent communal shower. "10 degrees warmer in here," quipped Ashleigh.

Promising to be right back, Al told Ashleigh and me to get acquainted.

"Al is a doctor? Really?" Ashleigh smirked, "He acts too much like a human being."

I agreed. "Al never wanted to be a doctor. His passion is the limelight, the theatre. He regards himself as an artist."

I chuckled when Ashleigh quipped incredulously in a high-pitched voice an artist in porn? "Al uses porn as a prop. It's not just a question on pretty girls taking off their clothes. Al makes a point.

"And the point of this flick?" Ashleigh closely questioned, "apart from revenge, of course."

At that Al returned holding a barrel camera. "The motive may be revenge, but if that remains the message, I'd produce a trash film."

"As long as the film makes hard up men cum," Ashleigh snarled, "no one will see a point beyond hardened erect tits."

"You'll see," I answered, "Al has perfected the art."

"OK, Ashleigh," Al ordered, "pick out an empty locker, find a bath towel, start undressing. Pretend You're arriving for work and talking with others, reporting in for work."

Enticingly swigging her hips, Ashleigh strode to a locker halfway down the row and withdrew a towel and placed it on the bench. Peering into the locker, Ashleigh thought aloud, "I really need to get a little mirror for my locker." After kicking off white sneakers, Ashleigh reached behind her head to release her hair tied down in bun. She shook her head to free her locks sending them into a swirl.

"O, things are about the same," Ashleigh told her imaginary neighbor as she swept the top of her dull bluish - green scrubs over her head, "Since calling off an engagement, Carter has given me to the end of the week to get out of `his' flat. "His flat!' she screeched, "is an apartment in a townhouse, Carter has because I guaranteed payment of rent so that Carter could get the lease. Carter kept his dream house because I paid the bills faithfully."

"What brought it on you ask?" Ashleigh roared as she undid the bow holding her scrubs bottoms up, letting them slide to the floor, "Carter expects to land a big -- ass, soft touch job as Assistant Director, big pay, no work." Stepping out of her scrubs and rolling them into a ball, Ashleigh tossed them into a laundry cart. "If Carter becomes an Assistant Director he can unlock the chastity cage and go stepping out -- with someone else."

When I blurted out, "He's crazy," Ashleigh turned to me, facing me. My eyes were focused on the three triangle patches of her royal blue bra and panty set, loosely hanging over cup C boobs and barely covering her sweet spot. "Chic loungewear," I complimented her, as she went on tippy toes to pirouette and display her sculpted bare butt cheeks bisected by a string running through her crack.

"Not much fabric, I'll admit, but this bra cost enough to take good care of." exclaimed Ashleigh unhooking her bra. My eyes riveted on the beautiful boobs sent bobbing when Ashleigh whipped the bra off her shoulders. With a sly smile exuding self -- conceit, Ashleigh neatly folding the two triangles of the bra over each other, and carefully placing the bra in her locker.

Bending forward to remove her scanty panties, "It seems," Ashleigh chided me, "You're ready to sample the merchandise without waiting for a shower. I haven't had a good fuck since -- damn Carter locked his cock and balls way in the iron jock strap."

I approached Ashleigh. Our lips met. We held each other and swayed as I pushed my tongue into her mouth. My tongue travelled down my neck into the gentle gap between her mountainous breasts.

Her wandering hands exploring along my waist pushed my scrubs down. She whispered in my ear as we descended to the tile floor, "You've come prepared. You went commando, today."

Crashing to the floor, Ashleigh lie on the tile floor on her back, Instinctively, my tongue swept across Ashleigh's lower abdomen cresting her shaven mound tunnelling into her vagina. Ashleigh's legs crossed over my head holding it in place. Her hands reached up my back pulling my top up and massaging my back. Her moans increased in intensity as I worked her clit with my fingers and my tongue lathered her warm hairless vaginal lips.

As the tension increased and warm juices flowed, Ashleigh screamed, "Don't stop." I intensified the action of my tongue and fingers. Ashleigh screamed as the first bolt of electricity jumped from her body into mine. How long she held me in position savoring her juices as the contractions reached their crescendo and slowly tapered off.

Finally, Ashleigh released my head from her clutches and rose from the floor. Patting me on the rear end, Ashleigh invited me to join her in the shower. "Much as I'd like to roll on the floor and fuck, we have to get to work."

Throwing a towel over her shoulder, she strode into the shower, swinging her hips sending a ripple through the soft flesh of her butt. Bright lights went on as soon as she entered. A second later, I heard the swish of water running.

Drying off and handed a pair of dark purple clinic scrubs, Ashleigh asked Al, "perhaps you could explain what type of point you intend to make beyond scenes for men to jerk off to?"

Both Ashleigh and Al laughed when I wondered aloud, "Just men, not women too?"

•••

In our apartment, Zaftig asked, "If I weren't so tired, I'd take this opportunity to rip these scrubs off and loll in the shower."

"Let me help," I took charge, "Stand up, arms in the air," I ordered.

Meekly complying, Zaftig affirmed, "Yes, mother."

Boldly reaching under her grey scrubs top with shaking hands, I lifted the cups of her bra over her DD breasts. Feeling the soft flesh of her underarms, I swept her top and bra over her head. Zaftig shook her head sending her breasts jiggling.

Folding her hands over bare breasts, Zaftig demanded to be told Al's bright idea to humiliate Carter Plessinger.

"Out of those hot, smelly clothes will make you more comfortable," I suggested in a soft tone as I undid the bow on the bottoms of her scrubs and let the bottoms sail to her ankles. I yanked her panties down. Without prompting Zaftig kicked sneakers, panties, and bottoms off. "When was the last time you were out of these clothes?"

"Monday -- Tuesday -- maybe it was last Sunday," Zaftig complained, "I can't remember. What's Al's big secret?"

"Al lined up Carter's ex -- girl to get it on with another girl," Al has something in mind for Plessinger, but hasn't shared that just yet."

To Zaftig's question how Carter's girl's choice of a female partner who engages in a steamy scene with another female diminishes Carter, I handed Zaftig part of the script for Dr Zoptic's lecture:

Scene: Theatre Fertility Clinic: Lecture to Nursing assistants.

Positions: Dr Zoptic approaches naked man standing on the podium. Naked man's hands locked behind his head.

Costuming: All Nursing assistants in Dr Zoptic costume: White labcoat covering bare chest, reaches down to touch top of thigh high black fishnet stockings, providing glimpse of the cleavage, genitalia and butt crease.

Action: Kneeling to the side of the patient, Dr Zoptic using the thumb and index finger of each hand feels each testicle to conduct a standard testicular exam. On screen behind Dr Zoptic and her patient is the image of Ashleigh after rolling on the floor with a tall brunette engages with blonde in the shower.

"Manual stimulation is usually enough tap ejaculate," Dr Zoptic grasped the man's penis and massaged it with the comment in a girlish giggly voice, "see it grows." Some men require a handheld pump," Dr Zoptic fastened cylindrical device over the man's penis, "This is called a sperminator. It works on the same principle as any ordinary pump you find in the hardware store. Pump it up to create a vacuum pour the yield out. Most men do like visual stimulation to assist extracting spermatozoa." With a wink Dr Zoptic adds, "man juice."

Looking up to the screen, Dr Zoptic snickers at Ashleigh "Busy girl. Hope she gets to work on time." Returning to her officious voice, Dr Zoptic intoned, "I believe that the attraction of males to watching girl -- girl intercourse is a latent castration anxiety. Girl -- girl scenes are the most popular attraction for fertility clinic harvesting spermatozoa from all donors -- particularly hale and hearty, brainy male med students. The secret is that there's a latent fear of the power of female sexuality," Dr Zoptic chuckled, "The aggressive, intelligent, independent woman, the Castratrix!" Dr Zoptic declares. With a snicker she adds, "With all these guy's brains shouldn't they know better? Like all men, the braniacs"

"If the potential yield," Dr Zoptic orated, "is valuable enough and auto stimulation, mechanical stimulation and material sparking the imagination fails," Dr Zoptic releases the patient's scrotum and hands the patient a sperm collection condom. Tapped on the shoulder, the patient bends over and reaches behind him to spread the hemispheres of his butt cheeks.

Discarding her gloves for a fresh pair, Dr Zoptic addresses the students, "As a last resort, a prostate message will induce ejaculation," Giggling Dr Zoptic adds, "or shall we say produce a strike of bubblin' crude."

"You'll take Carter's job," I told Zaftig, "and the girl he jilted finds sexual satisfaction with other women."

"I need to take a shower," Zaftig savored the irony, "so that I can be presentable to shower with Dr Windham in the morning. I suppose I can just find a clean pair of scrubs."

"No," I instructed, "wear the clothes you had selected to wear to your graduation. They're still in the box. Also wear them to the filming of the shower scene. We can have you on camera taking off the outfit Carter stole before you run into the shower bare breasts bobbing..."

"Put on clothes to take them off," Zaftig thought aloud, "Does that make me a stripper?" Zaftig hugged me. Her bare DD boobs were embedded in my chest. "Help me to the bathroom. I'm so tired I might fall down."

My heart raced. Has the moment I've prayed for since I met Zaftig arrived? Arm in arm we skipped to the bathroom. At the door, she skillfully slipped away and locked the door in my face.

Imagine, I thought, I'd have trusted her with knowledge of my deformity, the secret I carefully safe-guard.

•••

The following night at the fertility clinic, a much refreshed Zaftig in her new outfit that exuded professionality, brushed past me and Al, apologizing, "Sorry I'm late. First day off in three months I slept the day away. Two weeks off. I start classes in computer science. Al hand -- signalled one of his cameramen to follow Zaftig.

Pointed in the direction of the locker, Zaftig started stripping off as she ran down the corridor; finally rendering herself naked but still shod. Pausing to hobble on one foot, Zaftig removed one boot then the other and ran into the locker yelling "Sorry I'm late." Entering the shower, Zaftig froze. Under a shower spigot, tall buxom Ashleigh was locked in an embrace with a cute, petite, pony tailed, honey blond girl. "Don't mind me," Zaftig promised as she unperturbed turned the shower on, "I'll be gone in a jiffy."