Skin

Mrs. Gerald Worthington III is a member of the social elite in a city near you. She is also a borderline hypochondriac.

Her latest health concern is dermatological. She's in her middle fifties and her skin is showing signs of spotting, dryness and itching. Her imagined causes range from simple environmental allergies to rampant skin cancer. Aging as a cause is not one of her concerns.

At her earliest convenience, that is moments after her first thought of skin cancer, she made an appointment with the dermatologist with the best reputation in the city. The three-week wait before the appointment was unsettling, even distressing, as her anxiety intensified with each passing day.

Finally, the specified Tuesday arrived and Mrs. Worthington presented herself at the doctor's office for her appointment. The ten am appointment time passed as she was asked to fill out a multi-page health questionnaire and answer questions about her age, address, health and insurance coverage.

Finally, a nurse showed her to an examination room, stopping once to get her weight, gave her a paper gown, told her to undress, leaving on her bra and panties and the doctor would be right with her. Mrs. Worthington slowly removed her clothing, carefully folding each item and laying it gently on the nearby chair. She'd never been asked to remove all her clothing before except by her husband and an occasional paramour.

For Mrs. Worthington, occasional meant eight or ten times a month. She didn't consider herself a nymphomaniac, just a normal woman with a lustful appetite for sex. She accommodated her sex drive with a main course four or five times a week with her husband and an occasional appetizer or dessert with the pool maintenance boy, the club tennis pro or an unsuspecting delivery driver. She loved shopping with Amazon and the delivery drivers knew to ring her doorbell and wait for her to receive their package in person.

Mrs. Worthington has the personality and body to keep her lovers coming back for more. For a woman in her middle fifties, she has the body of a woman in her late thirties or early forties. She is five foot six inches tall, five-ten in heels, perfectly toned calves and magnificent thighs mostly visible in the short skirts she prefers. Further up, she has a flat abdomen and C cup, or larger, breasts without significant sag, splendidly presented in push up or half cup bras and loose blouses with more buttons than she is willing to close.

Her makeup is minimal and her shoulder length hair is a beautiful honey blonde, maintained with frequent visits to her favorite salon and spa where her stylist, James, similarly colors her pubic hair to match, a vanity of hers not appreciated by anyone except her husband, several hundred other men and a few women. James is always willing to test the color fastness of her hair at the end of her spa session.

Sitting on the paper covered examination table in her paper smock, she hadn't tied it in the back, waiting for the doctor, was frustrating. Her impatience was nearly exhausted when the nurse returned. The nurse took her temperature and blood pressure. While taking her blood pressure, the doctor knocked on the door and the nurse called for him to enter.

The doctor stepped into the room, closed the examination room door and stepped from behind the nurse. In the first millisecond after first viewing the doctor, Mrs. Worthington had three thoughts. First, he was a hunk. The college aged pool boy had an athletic body but the doctor's body was a work of art. Second, her reaction was going to screw up the blood pressure reading and, third, fuck, her panties were damp.

Dr. Andersson was tall, at least six foot, with Nordic features spotlighting his incandescent blue eyes. In spite of his name and obvious heritage, he had dark, almost black, curly hair, a formidable torso evident even through his white lab coat, tight hips and runner's legs. His buttoned lab coat prevented Mrs. Worthington from evaluating the only part of his anatomy she was truly interested in.

The nurse completed measuring her blood pressure with a quizzical eye, probably because of the spike in her pulse. As the nurse moved away, the doctor reached out his hand. "Mrs. Worthington, I'm Dr. Andersson."

Mrs. Worthington took his hand in hers and said, "Nice to meet you."

His soft, gentle touch set off a series of reactions in Mrs. Worthington. She wanted his hands to touch her elsewhere and everywhere. She knew he was going to do exactly that and the realization caused her to tremble just a bit and increase the dampness in her panties.

The doctor pulled up a nearby chair and sat in front of her. The nurse backed away into a corner. Mrs. Worthington realized the nurse wasn't going to leave the room. Probably a precaution about the male doctor being alone with a nearly naked woman in the examination room.

"So," asked Dr. Andersson from his position in front and below her. "What brings you to our office today?"

"I've noticed some changes in my skin and I thought I should see a dermatologist instead of my usual physician. You were highly recommended. So here I am."

"Anything specific you want to show me?"

In spite of an almost overwhelming urge to answer him honestly, she said, "Not really."

"Then, I think we should do a full body examination today and deal with anything we find in a future visit."

"A full body scan," thought Mrs. Worthington while she almost visually trembled. "More than I could have hoped for."

Dr. Andersson put on a set of wrap around, magnifying lenses and neoprene gloves, leaned slightly forward, took her left leg behind her calf and lifted it until he could rest her heel on his thigh. He carefully examined each of her toes and the space between them. He looked carefully at the front of her shin, calf, knee and three quarters of the way up her thigh, where he stopped.

Mrs. Worthington was breathless relishing his soft and gentle touch. She held her breath as he moved up her thigh and only began to breathe again when he placed her leg carefully back against the examination table. "If he does that again, I'm going to leave a wet spot on the exam table," she thought.

He repeated the exam with her right leg. "Wet spot guaranteed," she mentally confirmed when he was finished.

Dr. Andersson pushed back his chair, stood up and had her stand up as well. He asked her to turn around and step up in the small step at the end of the examination table. Her paper gown hung open in the back as she stepped up. He proceeded to examine the backs of her legs up to the limit of her panties and after a quick peek into the top of her panties that he gently lifted away from her waist with one hand, he looked at her back and shoulders.

After she stepped down onto the floor, Dr. Andersson examined the back of her neck and the rest of her head, moving her hair apart frequently to improve his vision. She turned around again and sat back on the examination table. He finished his exam with a close look at her face, upper chest and both arms ending with the fingers of each hand.

"Everything looks fine, Mrs. Worthington," he told her. "We should schedule an annual examination to insure it stays that way," he added.

"That's a relief," said Mrs. Worthington. "But, I don't think you looked everywhere."

"For example?" asked Dr. Andersson.

"My breasts and behind for example."

"There are limitations, both professional and social, that I must adhere to. The slightest hint of a scandal and I could lose my license and practice."

"But what if there's something there?" asked Mrs. Worthington. "I don't have a problem with you, as a doctor, doing a complete examination."

"Not everyone has the decent mind that you have but I can't take chances. Here's what I suggest," responded Dr. Andersson. "Use a mirror and bright light to examine yourself or get your husband or a close friend to do it for you. If you find anything suspicious, call me and we'll do a proper follow up."

"I guess that works," answered Mrs. Worthington unhappily.

The doctor and nurse left the room while she dressed. When she left the room, the nurse directed her to the front desk where she made an appointment a year away and left.

The nurse reentered the room to replace the used paper cover on the examination table and generally get the room ready for the next patient. She noticed the wet spot on the paper on the table and called the doctor over to view it.

"That's not the first time I've seen a spot like that," he said.

"I know but not usually that large. There's something about her that I'm uneasy with," said the nurse.

"She's in her fifties. I doubt there's a problem," opined the doctor.

"You may be right but I'd be careful around her anyway," offered the nurse.

"I will," he answered casually. "Thanks for the heads up."

Mrs. Worthington was uneasy on the drive home. All she could think about was how the doctor's hands and fingers felt as he moved them over her body. She almost had an orgasm when he pulled out her panties to examine the top of her ass. She was relieved that she didn't have any significant skin problems but she had a new concern to deal with. She wanted to fuck Dr. Andersson and she wasn't going to wait a year for the next appointment.

Mrs. Worthington waited almost a month before she called and made another appointment with Dr. Andersson. Luckily, the doctor had an opening the following week. She confirmed the appointment and began the wait to visit him again.

Thursday, Mrs. Worthington arrived early at Dr. Andersson's office for her scheduled two forty appointment. Right on time she was shown to an examination room where she proceeded to remove all her clothing, including bra and panties, before donning the paper gown without tying it in the back. She sat on the end of the examining table and waited.

The nurse knocked and then entered the examination room. Mrs. Andersson noticed the slight scowl on the woman's face as she took her temperature and blood pressure. "I hope this woman isn't a problem," they both thought.

Dr. Andersson knocked on the door and entered when the nurse indicated it was alright. Mrs. Worthington's body, specifically her genitalia, reacted immediately.

"So, Mrs. Worthington," the doctor asked. "Did you discover something troubling with your self examination?"

Mrs. Worthington wasn't about to admit to not having done a self-examination. "No doctor. I have another concern."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, I'm not an expert on matters of the skin and what might be unusual and that might require follow-up. Neither is my husband nor any of my close friends. I'm concerned I might miss something and I really want a trained professional to do the examination."

"What areas of concern do you have?" asked Dr. Andersson.

"Primarily the areas you did not examine last visit. For example, my breasts and buttocks."

"Mrs. Worthington," replied Dr. Andersson, "you're suggesting a very intrusive and personal examination and that puts me in an uncomfortable position. My practice depends on my reputation and the ability of my patients to trust me and my staff not to cross social and professional boundaries."

"Never the less," continued Mrs. Worthington, "I'm not feeling comfortable with your examination last time and I'd really like it to be complete. Actually, I insist on it."

Dr. Andersson considered Mrs. Worthington's persistence. "The best I can offer you is an examination by one of my nurses," he offered.

"Are your nurses qualified to perform detailed dermatological examinations?" asked Mrs. Worthington.

"The nurses have been part of my practice since almost the beginning. I believe they are as good as I am to perform the exam you are seeking," replied Dr. Andersson.

"Shit," thought Mrs. Worthington. "Another hurdle to conquer."

"I guess that will be alright if you think her examination will be comprehensive," agreed Mrs. Worthington.

"Then I'll leave you with Ursula. I'm confident she'll meet your standards."

Dr. Andersson left the room and Nurse Ursula approached Mrs. Worthington. "Where should we start?" she asked.

"I guess only the areas Dr. Andersson skipped last visit." Mrs. Worthington lowered the paper gown, exposing her breasts.

The nurse put on the magnifying headset the doctor used for examinations. She leaned in over Mrs. Worthington's breasts and looked closely at the top surfaces. "Will you please lift you left breast so I can see beneath it?" asked Nurse Ursula.

"You should lift my breast yourself so you will have the best view for the examination," responded Mrs. Worthington.

Nurse Ursula looked uncomfortable with Mrs. Worthington's suggestion but she gently lifted her left breast, shined a bright light beneath it and proceeded to examine the surface with her magnifying headset. She repeated the process with the right breast.

Mrs. Worthington closed her eyes and imagined that Dr. Andersson was lifting her breasts. The thought caused dampness between her thighs.

"I don't see any problems," said the nurse. "Where do you want me to examine next?"

"The doctor avoided my rear end and my pubic area last visit. I think you should finish there," Mrs. Worthington suggested.

She stood, turned around and stepped up on the small step at the base of the examination table. Without her panties, her buttocks were completely exposed.

Hesitantly, Nurse Ursula leaned in and examined her left and then her right, cheek. When she leaned back, Mrs. Worthington turned around and lifted her paper gown to her waist.

Nurse Ursula inhaled sharply. Her face was just inches from Mrs. Worthington's mostly gray pubic hair and pale labia. The nurse leaned in, holding her breath, and viewed Mrs. Worthington's pubic area. "Everything looks normal," she managed to say.

"Did you look carefully enough?" asked Mrs. Worthington. "The doctor used his fingers to separate my hair for a better examination when he looked at the hair on my head," she added.

Appalled, the nurse looked up. She was met with a withering stare from Mrs. Worthington.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and moved her fingers through the triangle of gray hair between Mrs. Worthington's thighs. When she felt she had done enough, she leaned back and took off the headset. "Everything's free of problems," she stated.

Mrs. Worthington was startled by Nurse Ursula's words. She had closed her eyes and was imagining the fingers moving through her pubic hair belonged to Dr. Andersson and the statement interrupted her reverie. "You're sure?" she managed to ask.

"I am. Your skin is clear of any problems."

Nurse Ursula put the headset on the counter and said, "You can get dressed now," and she left the room.

Mrs. Worthington got dressed and sat on the end of the examination table waiting for someone to return. A few minutes later, someone knocked on the door and Mrs. Worthington told them to enter.

Dr. Andersson entered the examination room and asked, "Satisfied?"

"For now."

"Then I think we're done for now," Dr. Andersson stated. "You can check out up front. Have a nice rest of your day," he added as he left the room.

Nurse Ursula was waiting outside the examination room. "She's trouble," she said.

"I know," responded the doctor.

"Be careful."

"I will."

Mrs. Worthington was decidedly unfulfilled on the drive home. Nurse Ursula's fingers were not a satisfying substitute for Dr. Andersson's. The next day, she called the doctor's office and made another appointment.

She had to wait just over three weeks, but she was finally on her way back to see Dr. Andersson. This time, she sat on the end of the examination table without taking off her clothes and waited for the doctor. When the knock came on the door, she said softly, "Come in."

Dr. Andersson entered the room and seemed surprised to see Mrs. Worthington sitting on the table completely dressed. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

"I'm unhappy that your examination and nurse Ursula's, were incomplete."

"How do you mean? I thought we had done everything we could to insure you were free of problems."

"Are you suggesting that you're confident I'm free of vulvar skin cancers?"

"Vulvar cancer? Do you think you might have a vulvar cancer?"

"I don't know since neither you, nor nurse Ursula, examined the area," Mrs. Worthington responded.

"Mrs. Worthington," responded Dr. Andersson, "I am not an urologist nor am I a gynecologist. Vulvar cancers usually present themselves as a lump or sore with itching. Women usually discover the problem themselves. If you have the symptoms, I would refer you to an urologist or gynecologist for confirmation or treatment."

"But vulvar cancer is a skin cancer."

"It is."

"And you're a dermatologist, a skin doctor."

"I am."

"Yet, you shy away from diagnosing skin cancer when it's potentially in a woman's genitals."

"Professionally, we doctors have to draw the line somewhere. Vulvar cancer, while defined as a skin cancer, is diagnosed and treated by a gynecologist."

"I understand your professional separation of responsibilities. What I don't understand is you personal reluctance to know me better."

Mrs. Worthington stood up, moved close to Dr. Andersson and whispered in his ear. "You'll never regret getting to know me better," she said while gently holding his testicles and cock in her right hand.

She left the stunned doctor in the examination room. He was having a problem processing Mrs. Worthington's parting words, the hint of her perfume and action while simultaneously dealing with the tingle of his partial erection.

Mrs. Worthington, on the other hand, was satisfied with her parting shot back in the doctor's office. She believed she only needed one more appointment before Dr. Andersson's professional demeanor dissolved and she'd have him between her legs at last.

Two weeks later, Dr. Andersson reviewed the day's schedule as he usually did first thing each morning. He noticed that Mrs. Worthington was scheduled for that afternoon. He remembered the scent of her perfume and the tingling in his pants as he walked to the reception desk.

"Could you reschedule Mrs. Worthington to the last appointment of the day, please," he asked the assistant on duty.

I can do that but I don't see the need. The schedule already has one opening in the afternoon and that would create a second one," she commented.

"Mrs. Worthington is scheduled for the fourth time in less than three months," Dr. Andersson responded. "I don't understand why and I need to discuss it with her," he responded. "I'm concerned the conversation may get confrontational and I don't want to have it when other patients may be around to hear it."

"I see," said the receptionist. "I'll call her and reschedule."

"Thanks."

Mrs. Worthington was delighted with the change in the appointment realizing that the last appointment of the day offered opportunities that the usual twenty-minute appointments didn't. She showed up for the appointment ten minutes early wearing a shorter skirt than usual. She was led to an examining room and told to remove her clothing, except her bra and panties, and the doctor would be with her in a moment.

She moved the chair in the room to a position facing the end of the examination table, removed only her panties, placed them neatly on the seat of the chair and climbed up on the end of the table with her skirt lifted behind her back and her legs slightly spread.

She heard the doctor outside the room telling his staff they could leave. He'd be fine with the last patient and would check her out himself when he was finished. He then knocked on the exam room door.

"Come in," was all Mrs. Worthington said before the door opened and Dr. Andersson entered.

"We need to talk," said Mrs. Worthington.