My Enigma

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This little story was inspired at my last Ob-Gyno appointment. There was a bit of a wait, and what else can one do at those times but daydream?

Thanks to NewOldGuy77 for his editing and comments!

~~~

“Go ahead and undress from the waist down and use the cover. The gynecologist will be in as soon as possible. But there is a bit of a wait right now,” the nurse grimaced as she left and closed the exam room door.

I slipped off my shoes, unzipped and pushed down my underwear and jeans. I carefully folded up my underwear inside my jeans and piled my clothes on the chair. Not only did it seem rude to leave my underwear out, I didn’t really want to have to explain the massive wet spot they now sported. It wasn’t pee, I was just that aroused. All the time, these days.

I climbed up on the exam table and spread the paper sheet over my legs. About two minutes later I realized that hiding the wet spot on my underwear would make no difference as I was already creating a new one on the paper table cover.

I briefly considered trying to do something about the evidence of my continued intense arousal, but I was too exhausted to worry about it. I pulled out the leg rest and laid down on the table. If there was going to a long wait, then I might as well have a nap, I figured.

I lost track of time, as I lay there, eyes closed against the bright hospital lights, daydreaming of hot doctors. It was wrong of me to fantasize that my OB-Gyno would see my helpless arousal and help me with it, I knew that. But I was just so fucking horny, ok?

It didn’t help that it was April 1st, April Fool’s day, my favorite holiday, and only because of her. My enigma, and the woman I didn’t want to remember. So, I fantasized about someone else, anything else.

I was imagining gloved hands clinically probing my vagina, one thumb efficiently flicking my clit, when there was a light knock at the door and a woman wearing a white doctor coat entered. I could only see her eyes above her blue surgical mask, the kind we were all wearing since the time of Covid. Her brown eyes were quirked up at the corners with amusement as she looked at me, showing fine wrinkles that spoke of a long history of humor.

She looked familiar, too familiar. But no, it was impossible. It was just the day messing with my head. It had been months, and my memory was not to be trusted. I brushed away the fuzzy strands of familiarity, firmly refusing to indulge myself in that one, my most dear, fantasy of her.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Abagnale,” she said, walking around me to my feet, her voice rough and slightly accented, not like hers at all.

“Where’s Dr. Chopra?” I asked, surprised.

“She had a family emergency and had to step out, so I am taking over Dr. Chopra’s clients that are already here,” She answered smoothly. “Why don’t you fill me in on what brings you in today?”

I had such a great fantasy going featuring the exotic and charming Dr. Chopra with her smooth dusky skin and animated dark eyes. I eyed Dr. Abagnale, visions of her rapidly replacing Dr. Chopra in my mind. She was a very attractive woman as well, from what I could see of her. Dr. Abagnale’s pale white skin looked incongruously mask-like against the blue of her surgical hat and face covering, and those eyes, they were her eyes. Her white coat looked a bit small as it hung open, not that Dr. Abagnale was particularly large, just that the coat looked like it was meant for a smaller person, someone Dr. Chopra’s size, perhaps?

“Abagnale,” I mused, “Like that ‘Catch Me if You Can’ guy? Are you related?” I teased, unable to stop the wave of memory that told me that, impossible as it was, this had to be my lover.

Thinner, rougher, disguising her voice, and fully covered, she was arguably unrecognizable. Yet, the name, the eyes, the humor, it was her wrapped up in a different package. And wasn’t that just like her? Today.

“Oh, you’re a fan of charming rogues, are you? Sorry to disappoint, but no relation,” She replied, refusing to give up the ruse, as always.

The doctor, she, sat down in front of my legs and adjusted the foot straps, gently moving each of my heels into their correct place. I kept my thighs as closed as possible as she did so, feeling it would be rude to expose myself crudely before it was time. Because what if I was wrong and his wasn’t her, but just some random doppelganger? As sure as I felt in my bones, my bones were tired and desperate.

“So, what brings you in today?” Dr. Abagnale asked.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” I started explaining my issues, playing along. “It seems to follow my monthly cycle. I wake up after three or four hours and can’t get back to sleep. I’m tired all day.”

“Have you changed your bedtime routine at all?”

“No, I do everything the same as always.” I blushed, thinking of my nightly masturbation habit. She knew exactly what my routine was. Whenever possible, she helped me. But she’d been gone for so long, and so maybe everything london escort agency wasn’t the same, after all.

“Walk me through your routine,” Dr. Abagnale said as she spread my knees open and pushed the speculum in, making noises of confirmation as she listened to my explanation.

“Well, I pee, brush my teeth, play a few phone games…” Masturbate, I thought but didn’t say, “and that’s it.” I finished lamely.

“Hmm… Any other symptoms?”

“Well, I’ve been wetter than usual down there, and I’ve been really horny.” I whispered the last word, losing hope that my lover had found me, after all.

The doctor popped up from between my legs and looked me in the eyes, her own crinkled with humor.

“Describe your sex drive, please,” she said professionally.

I flushed and considered, “Well, lately it seems like I can’t um… masturbate enough, you know?”

This was an embarrassing conversation to have any time. But it was only made worse by my attraction to Dr. Abagnale, and my sleep deprived confusion. My nipples hardened under my thin blouse and unpadded bra. Pushed up on top of my generous breasts, they poked out obscenely, little beacons of arousal, aching to be turned on.

“I see, and are you horny right now?” The doctor asked, her gaze lingering for only a second on my misbehaving nipples.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Have you asked your partner to help you with this increased sex drive?” She asked as she probed my vagina with her metal tool.

“My partner has been away for a while,” I admitted, dejectedly.

“A woman as attractive as you can find another lover, surely.” The doctor said in a strained voice.

“I guess?” I squeaked out as Dr. Abagnale wrenched open the speculum aggressively.

Her rough treatment ramped up my arousal, bringing back memories of another pair of brown eyes, just as dispassionately probing me. I could feel moisture dripping out of my vagina, probably making a mess of the doctor’s tool.

“Police! Open up!” A firm knock on the door accompanied the command.

I jerked in alarm, a quick flash of panic searing through me before I calmed it. I had nothing to fear from the cops, I reminded myself, for the hundredth time.

Dr. Abagnale frowned up at me calmly, “Police? In the hospital?”

Noting my worried expression, she patted my knee gently, “It will be alright.”

And in those words, her accent had changed and become familiar. Warmth suffused me as I knew, absolutely knew it was her. How could I have doubted that she’d let this day pass without seeing me?

She stood up from her position between my legs and moved towards the door. On any normal day I would have closed up my legs and carefully covered myself with the paper sheet. Today though, my clit pulsed with arousal and my mind was too befuddled by her to react normally. I wasn’t really exposed anyway; the door was behind my head so anyone entering the room would only see my bare knees from their viewpoint.

The doctor opened the door widely, unconcerned for my modesty. Two young men in uniform crowded into the small room.

“We’re looking for a fugitive, checking all the rooms,” one of them said, his eyes scanning around.

“Well, it’s just us here, officer,” Dr. Abagnale said with an apologetic wave of her hand, unfamiliar accent returned.

The quiet cop pushed past his partner and walked all the way into the room. He opened a couple cupboards with a bored expression then turned around and looked right at my exposed vagina, speculum still inserted.

“Nothing here,” he said, eyes glued to my pussy.

“Is this fugitive dangerous?” I asked, concerned.

The cop by the door frowned, “Dangerous? All criminals are dangerous. But this one’s not a murderer, if that’s what you’re asking. Anyway, if either of you see anyone strange around here, call us,” He handed Dr. Abagnale and I each a card.

“Why would a fugitive be in the hospital?” Dr. Abagnale asked.

“Came from the local prison to see a doctor and disappeared from the exam room. Minimum security for a non-violent felon…” The cop grumbled as he and his partner exited the room.

The doctor shut the door after the cops, “Well, that was exciting!” she said, her eyes alight with amusement.

“Mmmm…” I said, but it came out as a moan. The somewhat accidental exposure to our visitor had ramped up my arousal even more.

“Oh, is the arousal becoming a problem for you?”

I closed my eyes, “I’ll be fine.” I said stoically.

“Well… Your vagina looks fine, no sign of any issues there,” she pulled the speculum out with a squelch,

“Why don’t we do a thorough breast exam while you’re here, hmm?”

I shivered at the suggestion, suddenly craving hands pressing my breasts, “Ok.”

Dr. Abagnale pulled my shirt up, exposing my chest. My boobs flopped outwards, they were big, but not very firm. The doctor pressed two fingers into the breast furthest from her and moved them around escort london in a circle up to my nipple. I shuddered again as she finished with the first side.

“Are you alright?”

“A bit cold,” I lied.

As the doctor examined my second breast, she stared down into my eyes intently. My clit began throbbing insistently and my still open and exposed vagina pulsed. I bit my lip and held her gaze, begging silently for release.

“I suppose I can help you with your problem,” Dr. Abagnale said lightly.

“Please,” I moaned.

I felt a delicate finger probe my clit. She watched me intently, radiating calm control, as she always did, I remembered. I saw arousal in her eyes that mirrored my own.

I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t work out why this was happening, and I wasn’t sure I cared. I pressed my hips into her hand and was rewarded by the crinkle of the doctor’s eyes. She gently squeezed my nipple and slid two fingers into my vagina, moving her thumb to my clit.

I gasped and arched my body with pleasure.

“Oh God, oh thank God,” I cried, tears gathering in my eyes.

“Not God,” the doctor corrected, “Thank me.”

“Thank you!” I obeyed.

Dr. Abagnale moved around to my feet and sat between my legs again. I missed her touch desperately. But then came something better, the wet lick of a tongue through my slit.

“Oh, oh!” I cried. Some part of me demanded that there must be logic in this, but I could find none, no reason for this to be happening at all. If this was a doctor, then she was a strange one. And if this was her, then why had she stayed away for so long only to come back now?

“You have the prettiest cunt,” Dr. Abagnale said, her voice husky, and then she returned to licking and nibbling my clit, becoming more passionate with each moment.

My clit spasmed and I could feel as a jet of squirt was expelled. The doctor jammed three fingers into my vagina and curled them upwards. She found just the right spot, quickly and pumped her fingers. My whole body convulsed at the incredible sensation and then my vagina was pulsing around her fingers.

“Oh my… D-D-Doctor!” I cried, just barely holding back the name on the tip of my tongue, before flopping back onto the exam table, drained of energy, and finally, of arousal too.

The doctor slipped her Covid-mandatory mask back up over her face and walked around to my head, straightening down my shirt as she went. She brushed my hair away from my brow gently.

“Rest now. Take a nap before you go home. I’ll see you later,” She said gently, then she turned off the room lights and left me.

Despite the sense of loss that tugged at me as she left, I fell asleep in moments. It was the best sleep I’d had in weeks.

A knock on the exam room door woke me. I opened my eyes blearily and saw Dr. Chopra’s face leaning over me. I frowned, confused. She was supposed to not be here, I thought.

“I apologize for the long wait,” she said, “it’s been quite hectic here today.”

“It’s Ok,” I said reflexively, “I thought you had to leave?”

Dr. Chopra frowned at me, “Nope, just been delayed. Did you take a nap? I see you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

I wrinkled my forehead, had I dreamed her, Dr. Abagnale, that whole thing? Had my exhaustion and arousal driven me into some super intense wet dream?

Dr. Chopra moved down between my knees and pressed in the speculum, examining me.

“Everything looks good down here,” She said. “But I think I can help you with your problem.”

I shuddered at her words, remembering how Dr. Abagnale had helped me. Had I really just dreamed that?

“Oh?” I asked.

“Yes, I’ll prescribe some medication for you that should help regulate your hormones so you can sleep.” Dr. Chopra said easily.

“Oh,” I said, disappointed.

Dr. Chopra didn’t notice, “You can go ahead and go now. I don’t need to see you again for a year, unless you continue to have issues sleeping.”

I frowned, something seemed odd about Dr. Chopra. I’d been trying to work out what it was and now it suddenly came to me.

“Doctor, where’s your coat?”

Dr. Chopra looked embarrassed, “I’ve misplaced it.”

Not waiting for any more questions, she hurried out of the room.

I waited a moment, then pushed myself off the table. My vagina felt a bit sore, from the speculum I supposed. My clit felt raw as well. I should ease off on the masturbation, I thought to myself.

I slipped on my underwear, the wet spot had completely dried by now. Then I pulled on my jeans. I frowned; they seemed lighter. I dug in my pockets, phone, keys, but no wallet? I looked under the chair and behind it, searching the whole room. My wallet was gone.

I turned on my phone and googled, ‘criminal escape at hospital’.

A flood of old articles filled the screen. I went to the tools and restricted the results to news from today. There was nothing. But maybe that just meant the media hadn’t got their hooks into london escorts the story yet, right?

I made my way back to the front desk of the gynecologist area. I considered telling them that my wallet was missing and asking for them to keep an eye out for it. But something, some crazy inane hope held me back.

I drove away in a daze, feeling as if life had become a dream and my dream was the more real thing. I pulled into my garage, examining my house critically, but nothing looked out of place.

Feeling unaccountably nervous, I walked in, my stomach clenched with anticipation. I walked though the living room, the kitchen, back to my bedrooms. I heard a sound that I shouldn’t have heard. Running water.

I walked to my room, slowing down as I got close. There would be nothing, I told myself. The sound was a figment of my imagination. I had left the shower turned on by accident. A pipe had broken. All the reasonable, logical, explanations, I told myself.

I toed open the door to the bathroom, pushing away the bundle of white cloth laying on the floor. Was that a lab coat? Steam billowed out of the small room, blocking my view. When it cleared, I nudged open the shower curtain.

She was there, naked and dripping wet, her head tilted back under the water. She lifted her head and opened her eyes, seeing me there.

“Hi, there!” she greeted me, her eyes crinkling as she laughed at my dumbstruck expression.

“I thought it was a dream,” I said.

“Come on in with me,” she replied, ignoring my comment.

I closed my eyes and remembered her tongue on my clit, her fingers in my vagina, her calm confidence when dealing with the cops. I wanted her. That was the problem. The police couldn’t have her. She was mine.

I peeled off my clothes and stepped in.

She grinned at me and leaned her head close, kissing me. Our tongues met and our chests met and our stomachs and our pussies. We wrapped ourselves around each other, driven by lust and need.

“I’ve missed you.”

“You have me, now. What will you do with me?”

“Make love to you, fuck you, taste you, ride you. Better you should ask what I won’t do with you.”

Hot water cascaded down on us, sprouting rivers from our nipples that twirled together in waterfalls as we embraced. I tasted soap on her lips as I ran my tongue across those rosy ridges. I pressed my hands into her hips and turned her, thrusting her back into the shower wall. Kissing my way down from neck to chest to stomach, I found the prize, her freshly shaved slit.

I folded open her fleshy labia, exposing the wrinkled flaps within. I caught one bit of loose skin and pulled it into my mouth, nibbling it gently. Her fingers pushed through my hair, massaging my scalp as she pressed my head into her desperately. I ran my tongue through her wet crease, tasting her own arousal under the fresh water that moisturized her even more.

My hands on her thighs, thumbs pulling back the curtain to her pleasure, I lapped eagerly. Above me, I could hear her moan, which drove me to greater frenzy, faster and harder, licking and sucking wildly. Thigh muscles tightened under my hands as she thrust her pelvis towards me. I doubled my efforts, sensing that the moment was close.

She pressed me into her roughly, smothering my mouth and nose inside her so thoroughly that I could not breathe. I gave myself up to it, the breath-taking arousal of having created this intense climax. If I died of suffocation in this moment, I would die satisfied, at least.

With a sigh and a powerful shudder, she released me, and I fell backward onto the shower floor, landing on my butt. I took a deep breath and choked on water. I doubled over, hacking and coughing. The water stopped and gentle hands rubbed my back.

“You OK?” she asked with concern.

“Yeah,” I coughed once more, then settled.

“Come on, let’s get dried off,” she said with a soft kiss on my forehead.

“Alright, doctor.” I laughed.

“That’s right, you are in my care now. So, you better do what I say.”

“Or what?” I shivered, imagining all sorts of delicious punishments.

She bent her mouth to my ear and breathed on it, making me shiver. My clit jerked to life when she bit my ear lobe gently.

“Or I’ll bend you over my knee and spank you like a naughty child,” she whispered.

Heat flowed through me from my pelvis to my breasts. I clenched my butt cheeks and shuddered. I took the towel she held out to me and held it in front of me, then slowly and deliberately, dropped it to the floor, keeping my eyes locked with hers.

She raised an incredulous eyebrow then lifted her hand and crooked a finger at me. I stepped forward, my breasts brushing hers. She grabbed my shoulders firmly and turned me towards the door, pushing me out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. New wetness pooled in my pussy, adding to my insubordinate refusal to be dry.

She sat on the bed and pulled me down across her lap, exactly as promised. The first slap sent a shiver right through me and into my clit which pressed into her thigh. I let out a shuddering breath.

“Apologize,” She demanded with the second hard slap.

“I’m sorry, miss…” I trailed off, not sure what to call her.

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