The Town Doctor

This story involves the fictional characters of Dr. Mark Bradley, Ob/gyn and his wife Elaina (Elie) a Mental Health Therapist, as they try to become friends with people that are marginalized by society. They are a part of small town America.

I hope you enjoy it, and please let me know if you'd like more.

The Town Doctor

The woman in room #3 was hot.

I hadn't actually seen her yet, but I knew by the way my nurse was acting. The inhabitant of room #3 was either smoking hot, or she presented herself as a lesbian. Heather kept going to the door, adding something to her medical file folder, and the way she exchanged conspiratorial looks with my receptionist Ronda, led me to believe that examination room #3 had something, or more likely someone very interesting. It could have been a celebrity or the mayor of our small town, but he wouldn't need a gynecologist, so it was most likely a new client, and she would be sexy.

They always tease me, if a patient is hot. Elie and I have only been married for 3 months now, so my team of two are constantly wondering if this pussy or that breast is going to be the one that I fantasize about when I go home.

Of course I chose Elaina over the two dozen or so unmarried women that use my Ob/Gyn services, and over the throngs of single nurses, and healthcare associates that I see professionally on a daily basis.

First, and foremost, Elie is brilliant and precocious. She also has a perfect body, and she loves sex like a man, so I will not be letting my eyes wander.

I checked the chart for the name, then I lightly tapped on the door, gave a two second pause so she could cover herself if needed, then I proceeded.

"Good afternoon, Miss Jackson," I started my first encounter with my newest patient while reading her chart for BP, heart rate, allergies, etc. On a 'first encounter' it is important to be professional.

I was heading blindly for the padded chair next to my low examination chair and prescription desk. It was empty. I realized she must be sitting on the gyno bed and turned toward the other side of the room. She was laying back on the apparatus, naked, with her legs spread wide in the stirrups!

I admit that I was a bit shocked, in spite of the sheet covering her lower parts. This had never happened before.

As a male gynecologist I expected to only be with a naked patient when my female assistant was there in the room. We usually start with a fully clothed discussion, then I leave, and on my second rotation I bring Heather with me, or she is already in the room starting the procedure, with the instruments laid out. She did have a sheet over her lower body, but her breasts were exposed. They were quite spectacular. Her smile and face got my attention next.

"Doctor, could you lock the door? I would like privacy."

I stood there, looking dumbfounded I'm sure.

"Miss Jackson, I normally would have a female in here, to keep things discrete, and professional." I tried to explain the usual protocols, while backing to the door.

Just then Heather popped in and almost knocked into me.

"Ah, you got here ahead of me, Doctor Bradley.

She hurried into the room, closing the door behind her. She was not preoccupied with a clipboard, so she noticed the naked woman in the room right away.

"Oh! I didn't tell her to get ready for the exam, Doctor." Heather rushed to explain.

Then Miss Jackson took control.

"Hello! People!" She waved her hand for emphasis. "I would like to just deal with the Doctor please."

Miss Jackson had boldly and without any embarrassment ordered Heather out.

"It's your choice, Miss," I rushed to apologize for our assumptions. "So let's start again. Hi, I am Doctor Mark Bradley. What can I do for you today?"

Nurse Heather quietly, and with head bowed, left us alone.

I stuck out my hand and she took it for more like a touch than a shake.

"Candice Jackson," she replied.

"I am here because I am a Prostitute, and I need a clean certification every two months."

Wow, my first pro. I would have to read up on the newest problems and protocols for sex workers.

"So you don't want anyone else knowing? Is that why you want so much privacy? My staff is very discreet, Miss Jackson."

"Call me Candice. Yes, I'm sure that they are professional, but they are women. They will talk."

"Okay, I can see where you would think that. It is a small town, I see your problem, but this is highly unusual. People will make up a story that you won't like any better than the truth, and some of them will compromise me. I'm newly, and happily married, Miss Jackson. I can't have that!"

"You will simply explain that I am a lesbian, single, and shy. I will act the part." She had it figured out. "And it's Candice, Candy or Can. Pick one."

I walked to the door and opened it. Heather and Ronda were both standing there, with the kind of smile that says, 'are you going to get into trouble?'

"Come inside ladies," I insisted.

They both came in and I motioned for Ronda to shut the door.

"Our new patient is shy, and she would prefer to only expose herself to one person, and since I am the doctor, it will be me. Any questions?"

"No Doctor," they both answered.

I jerked my thumb to the door and they left, closing the door quietly behind themselves.

Candice pulled the sheet down, exposing her beautiful womanhood. It was every bit as alluring as Elie's. But I was dedicated to the one at home. The one that I could enjoy every day, sometimes even twice. Okay, I love her too. I think about her all day long. She centers me.

This one was clean shaven, unlike Elaina's blonde and curly bush, but the Labia Majora were just as plump. The skin pigment was darker here, matching her anal sphincter. They are not always darker on an African American. They do naturally darken with age, but I suspected that overuse was the cause here.

And there it was. My prejudice against prostitution. I wear it thanks to society's pressure to conform. Her sphincters were darker from 'more' use, not 'excessive'. A factory worker has thick calluses, because he or she works hard.

I pulled my latex gloves onto my hands. I use a medium, so they are snug, allowing me a better feel when checking for polyps, lumps or cysts.

"How long since your last sexual encounter?" I started my usual questions while continuing the visual part of the pelvic exam.

She looked over at the clock on the wall.

"Are you talking 'down there'? Or does a suck or handjob count?"

Her lipstick was much brighter than her labia. I checked her nipples and they were more reddish than the lower sphincters, but the lips on her face were much lighter, almost pink. No obvious sign of oral herpes. Eli matches her lipstick to her nipples, which do match her vaginal lips after sex, when they are more engorged. She rarely changes the shade on her lips.

"Any... Any lower sexual activity." I asked and lifted my inspection again to her face.

"I have had oral sex this morning, but only that one guy." She replied.

There was no sign of inflammation, but I needed a baseline to remain objective in future visits.

"No other vaginal or anal stimulation," then I thought about it..."of a sexual nature?"

I did not need a history of her bowel movements unless she was much sicker than she looked.

"Oh, no, not on me. Lord, I wish one of them would give me some head while I swallow their pickles! The last time I fucked was last night, with my boy friend."

She was very bold for a shy lesbian. I did not have a good feeling about her secret remaining a secret, unless she could turn off her glaring 'please fuck me' personality.

I spread her outer labia to have a look at the vaginal vestibule, to decide which of the speculums to use. Most people would be shocked to know that we use over a dozen different duck bill spreaders. Some are meant to be used for the nostrils or the ears, and of course we have anoscopes for the rectum that we can also use on unusually small vaginal openings, sterilized of course. I find that the heavy duty anoscopes make for a better exam.

"I thought you were going to dive right in." Candice interrupted my thoughts as I searched for the medium Graves speculum.

"Yes, umm. Do you know what part of your cycle you are on?" I mused out loud as I considered the longer billed Graves #3 but I went for the regular.

"My period doesn't start until the 20th, and it is a regular 4 days long. No odd discharge, just my own jizz. I am very regular about condoms, but they do break, so... Here I am! Back at the pussy doctor."

I don't remember the last time that I was called by that moniker, but I wish it was the official name. Mark Bradley, Pussy Doctor and MD.

I opened the speculum, but checked to see if it was the best fit before locking it.

It looked good even without the light. I pushed the record button on the handle of the device which automatically turned on the light. There may be some videos in the medical annals, that I could compare her with to determine her overall health. I took the pap smear and sealed the skin cell sample in the appropriate tube. Then I remembered to take five more samples on various sections of her vagina, vulva and anus. There were no cysts around the Bartholin Glands on the lower lips of her labia minora, nor around her clitorus, which had a generous hood around it. I retracted the hood to have a better look.

"You must be married, Doc. They usually buy me a drink before they play with my clit."

"Do you have violent orgasms? Or many, throughout the day?" I asked, when I saw the rapid enlargement of her clitoris.

"I like sex, Doc, and my body does too. Yes, I squirt a bit and I cum hard, but not like a guy! My customers love it when I cum, and it's something that they will come back for. It makes them feel special."

I thought about testing her, but they would probably be listening at the door.

The cervix looked healthy, and that is the first thing that will suffer if she has an infection. No sign of an STI. I decided to draw the blood myself. My assistant and even Ronda would know about our sex worker, just by the test parameters, let alone the bimonthly appointments.

"Did you have any recent condom breaks? You do not look pregnant, and I usually can tell with this intimate look and feel."

I unscrewed the speculum lock, but then kept it open as I pulled it out. This allows me to observe the change in color of the wall as it relaxes into its resting position.

"It's been a few months since one has broken or slipped off, but sometimes, you know..."

I did, in fact know. I have delivered or assisted in the births of hundreds of 'oops' babies.

"It looks good here, but I have to check the bum bum."

I gently twisted and pushed the head of the spreader, then squeezed the handle to stretch her anal passage.

"Have you done any time, Doc?"

I could not help but laugh.

"No, I did a rotation at the ladies prison in Newport when I was Interning, so I doubt that you could shock me more than some of those toughened broads." I cringed a bit as I said 'broads', since I didn't know how liberal this hooker might be.

"I've never been in the lockup, knock on wood."

"Okay, this next part involves two fingers going in deep." I always prepare them with specifics. "I will then palpate your abdomen with my other hand."

She relaxed into the stirrups, as I inserted the middle and index finger of my right hand into her vagina. I lifted the upper wall and saw her eyebrows raise as I passed under her G spot while pulling upwards. I slid my thumb over her clitoris. Not because I have to, but I wanted to see that little submission that every woman shows. That instant where they just give themselves to me. But instead, Candice jumped.

"Whoa Doc! I'll give you an hour to cut that out, but I'm afraid that your whole office is going to hear me!" I saw that she was serious so I backed off right away. If I gave her an involuntary orgasm it would be far from my first, but it would be the first time where I was alone with a patient.

"Maybe I'll bring a ball gag next time, Doctor Mark."

She was such a gorgeous, naked, flirt. I noticed that her vagina had a fresh strawberry scent. I smiled, to make her comfortable with my diagnosis.

"If your bloodwork comes back clean, like I'm sure it will, then you are good to continue your whoring," I concluded, with a Monty Python accent.

I was convinced that she was a sporting type and my insult would be taken for humor.

Her tubes and ovaries and such were all in the right place, with no lumps, and she showed no sensitivity as I prodded and pried. My hands are insured for ten million dollars, that's how good I am.

The internal exam was complete, so I pulled off the gloves but continued the conversation without the least condemnation of her chosen trade.

"If you have any business cards, I might know of some colleagues to send your way." I moved my wheeled stool back and came around to her beautiful ebony chest.

"Do you mind if I check for lumps? It's a full service shop." That stupid joke always gets their guard down, but it never hurts to check for cancer, and their humility is already shattered, so why not get the extra protection while they are in the hands of a highly skilled Doctor.

"Give them a feel, everyone does." She beamed with pride as she offered me her fun bags.

They were probably a B cup before the operation. The surgeon had enough skill to put the scar right at the crease, so it would take a careful inspection to see it. I put fresh gloves on, while I wheeled into place. She watched me, as I checked her breast enhancement. I thought about going into plastic surgery once, but it was not a good fit for me.

"This is nice work here. Is there any discomfort, especially under heavy load?" I asked.

Many of my clients had breast implants, and they were always happy to have me squeeze them. I think any woman that gets implants, wants every man or woman to feel them. Of course most of those women draw the line where society says to draw it, but they can always say yes to their doctor.

"Your nipples are impressive. Natural?" I asked.

"Yes, momma gave me those, and I didn't lose any sensitivity from the little bump in size that I got from Doctor Rossen.

Ah, Saul Rossen in Chicago. He probably gave her a discount for favors received, in advance. Again, I could recognize the bias in that thought. Elaina, my wife, was such a brilliant psychologist, that she was helping me to recognize the hurdles that marginalized people are forced to wade through everyday. If a sex worker gets a discount in trade for sex, it is smart business. If any moral judgment might be made, it should be with the Doctor.

Candice found a half dozen business cards in her purse. I told Ronda to give Miss Jackson an appointment for two months from now. She's a smart receptionist. She will know exactly what that means, and one thing was for sure...

I had to call my wife right away!

*****

Elaina was over the moon. She was a Certified Psychotherapist, with her own practice, so she wanted to hear all about this woman. She loved the fact that I was the gyno doctor for what might have been the only prostitute in the Town of Preston. I gave her one of the cards and she looked it up on the internet.

"She's smart enough not to put her price on the site, but it's obvious that she's selling it," Elaina reported after a serious Google search.

"We should have her out for dinner, Mark. I insist that you ask her." She declared.

I could not think of any reason not to offer my wife's invitation to my most interesting patient.

I told my other special ladies about our dinner plans, as I got to the office. They are liberal minded, and actually much more professional than I give them credit for.

"I was a bit shocked when you showed us the business cards," Ronda admitted. "But she seems to have her shit together, and as long as my man stays away from her, I say 'make the money while you can sister'!"

Heather had no problem with it either.

"That's how I made some extra cash when I was in college. "All the girls do it now. They wear a face mask and they use condoms, and they take it at both ends. They pay good money for 2 or 3 hours of sex."

I just stared at her in awe. I had no idea.

"Don't be looking at me with those righteous eyes. I did not have wealthy parents to get me where I am today. Sacrifices were made, get over it."

I could see that I was the old, stodgy one!

"Boss. Your wife called." Ronda yelled as I went from room #1 to room #2.

If it weren't for the pussies and tits behind every second door, this life would be a grind.

"Did she need me?" I shouted back.

"Well, I'm sure she does, Studmuffin, but she just wanted to tell you that there will be a third for dinner."

I thought about that until lunch time. The three of us always ate lunch together in my private office, and they both knew that a hooker was coming to dinner at the Bradley home.

"I have a nanny cam, and I'll pay you a hundred dollars if we can watch!" Heather insisted, while Ronda laughed.

"Did you offer her a plus one?" Ronda finally managed to ask.

"I have no idea. You talk to my wife more often during the day than I do! You ask her."

Ronda headed back out to place the afternoon patients in their rooms, either undressed and gowned up, or settled in the cushy chair, waiting for Heather. I get an hour's lunch, as the head of the organization. Heather gets a half, and Ronda doesn't take more than 20 minutes, but they are both paid through their lunch.

"Hey, you knew Elaina in University, didn't you?" I asked my assistant.

"Yes, and if you're going to ask anything about her sexual activity, you will have to ask her." She put a period at the end of that statement, then headed out to take blood pressures or heart rates.

Other than the constant reminders of my pending dinner, the week went well. Our meal was set for Sunday. Perhaps that's a slow night for sex workers in our City. I don't know, I didn't ask.

Our lovemaking was as unhurried as ever on Friday. We even had hard morning sex the next day, then I made banana pancakes while Elaina squeezed the orange juice.

"Is she coming over, Stag?" I asked my beautiful lover.

"Hmm. Maybe? Candice asked if she could bring anything, and I said 'Bring whatever you like,' so, I guess she might."

We had enough steak for 4, so I was ready to cook them on the BBQ. I put the potatoes and onions in tin foil then started it up with the veggies. I asked Elaina about our eating meat. Not everyone eats it nowadays.

"Anyone who eats dick for a living eats meat. Prostitutes are not afraid of cholesterol." She called out from the kitchen.

I don't know if she's an expert on sucking dick or on high end escorts, but my wife likes to eat meat, my meat included, so I took her word for it.

Candice was due at 7:30, but a text to Elaina asked for our forgiveness on a 20 minute delay.

"Welcome! Please come in!" Elaina insisted on being first to the door when they finally arrived.

I mentioned that she is precocious, right?

"She is black, Mark. Why would you not mention that," Elaina cried out. "And she brought wine, a good wine, and a man! Yes. Okay, and he is also a very good looking, very big and sexy black man."

My wife has a way of dealing with nervousness, that would put off a lot of people, but Candice showed no irritation with my wife's racist remarks. They seemed to put her at ease.

"Looks like my pussy doctor has himself a sexy cracker for a wife." Candice offered. "Is she arm candy, or can she move that can too?"

I could see that the women would be close friends. I kissed the hooker on the cheek and reached out to offer my hand to her muscular friend.

"Be careful of those hands, Bobby," Candice shouted.