My Brief Medical Career

He walked out from the back of the office suite, tall, with brown curly hair set off by the clean, white coat, and approached the reception desk. Right behind him, his last patient of the morning, a perky-looking brunette, tight curls touching the collar of her coat, long legs leading the eye down to high heels, an electric smile on her pixie face.

“I’ll see you next year, Sherrie,” Kyle said, smiling as she passed. She beamed back. “See you, Dr. Browning!”

She swung breezily out the door, and, the waiting room empty for lunch, I turned to Kyle.

“I still think you have one of the best jobs on earth,” I said, smiling as I shook his hand.

“It’s really not all that you seem to think, Jack,” my brother said, smiling back. “You’re looking at the college co-ed crowd I get, but you seem to miss all the middle-aged couch potatoes with…” he was interrupted by the pager on his belt.

“Damn,” he said, and walked around the desk to the phone. He held the receiver to his ear, pounded in a number and spoke in clipped tones for a minute or so to someone on the other end. He hung up.

“Jack, I know we’ve been trying to schedule this lunch for months now, but I’ve got to be over at the hospital, about five minutes ago. My receptionist called in sick today. Can you do me a HUGE favor and hold down the phones for me till I get back? I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

“Well, I guess…”

“Thanks!” he said, and like a tornado was out the door, overcoat in hand, lab coat slung onto the front desk before I could ask any of the questions that came to mind, like “how long will you be gone?” or “don’t you have an answering service?”

I confess, even at the time it felt foolish, but I couldn’t resist. I put the white coat on, just to see what it felt like. Me, a 34 year old man, playing dress-up.

So, there I am, in the white coat, sitting in the swivel chair at the desk in the waiting room when the door opens. Ready to be thoroughly embarrassed, I shoot bolt upright in my chair, expecting to see my brother’s laughing face…

When in walks a blond goddess. Tall, lean, with long honey-blond hair almost halfway down her back. She’s wearing tight jeans, and a clingy green turtleneck that shows off a fabulous body. She’s obviously in a hurry as she rushes to the desk. “Doctor, I really need your help. I just transferred to Woodward College, and I’m supposed to start today and they’re telling me there’s a health form I need and they never sent it to me…”

“But, Miss, I’m not…”

“Please, Doctor,” she said, her face in a pretty pout. “I need to get this done today or I can’t start classes tomorrow. They said you handle a lot of physicals for the school, and that you might be able to help…”

“But you don’t under…”

A flash of anger in her eyes. “Look, Doctor, I know it’s lunchtime, and I’m sure you’re very busy. I’ll pay extra if that would help, but I need this physical today.”

Okay, I know it was phenomenally stupid. I know it was wrong. But I’ve always had a thing for playing doctor, and here she was practically demanding it…

“All right, Ms…”

“Wilson. Colette Wilson.”

“All right, Ms. Wilson. Where is this form?”

“The woman at the school said you’d have them here.” Great. I began to rifle through the drawers under the desk, in a fruitless search. I looked up. She was pointing to a piece of paper on the top of the desk, headed ‘Student Health Evaluation’.

“Thanks. The receptionist called in sick today, and I’m kind of lost at sea.”

“I understand. Thank you for fitting me in, Doctor.”

I looked at the form. Eyes, ears, blood pressure, height, weight, heart, lungs, breasts and axillae (whatever the hell that was), genitalia…oh my. The list went on.

What to do? What to do? “Uhm, Ms…Wilson, if you’ll follow me back to the exam room, we’ll get you set up.”

Happily, I had explored my brother’s office suite before, or else I’m sure I would have led lovely Colette straight into a broom closet. I led her back to the exam room furthest from the waiting room, walking slowly as my mind raced. A real doctor would probably put her into one of those paper gowns, but I didn’t really want to make it that clinical, and besides, I didn’t even know where to find them.

We entered the exam room. “All right, Ms. Wilson. Please undress down to your…undergarments, and I’ll go and wash up. I’ll be right back,” I said, even as I turned to the door, to flee into the hall and compose myself.

“Doctor?” came the musical soprano voice over my shoulder. “There’s a sink right there. And you can call me Colette.” I turned back hesitantly. She was leaning on the examination table, smiling slightly. “Doctor, when you say undergarments, do you mean my bra and panties?” she asked innocently.”

“Yes, Colette, that would be fine.” Shaking like a leaf, I stepped over to the sink and began to scrub my hands under the warm flow of water.

“Doctor?” I looked up, my eyes immediately pulled to her reflection in the mirror, the turtleneck most of the way off, half over her lacy white bra. “Could you close the door, please?”

“Oh! Of course, Ms…Colette. I’m sorry. The nurse usually does all this, but she’s at lunch…” I closed the door, and went back to the sink, forcing my eyes to remain on my hands, scrubbing and scrubbing.

When I finally turned around, wiping my hands on a paper towel, she was sitting on the edge of the table. Her top and those tight jeans were gone; she had on a lacy, pearly white bra, which was half covered by her left arm, and tiny matching bikini panties. Her long, slender legs dangled over the side of the table, swinging slightly to her own rhythm.

“All right, Colette, there’s a lot to be done, so let’s get started. Please come over here and climb up on the scales so I can get your height and weight.”

She lowered herself from the table, and walked over, confidence in her stride despite her exposure, and as she passed, I could see the hint of muscular definition in her belly and her thighs, and the hard muscles in her back. She stood on the scale in her bare feet, and I began to slide the weights back and forth. It took a while, but it seemed to settle in at 120. I recorded it in the blank on the form, and then checked her height, finding it to be 5’8”.

“Your weight is just about ideal for your weight, Colette. Now come sit on the table, and I’ll take your blood pressure.” I found the blood pressure cuff, but of course I have next to no idea of what to do with it. I wrapped it around her arm and velcroed it tight, and then began to squeeze the little bulb, puffing it up like a balloon. “That’s not too tight, is it, Colette?”

Again the shy smile. “No, Doctor. It’s just fine.”

A stethoscope! They usually used a stethoscope to do this. I had to walk back to the little desk in the exam room to get one, and then slipped it on. I pressed it to her arm as I wrestled with the cuff to figure out how to let the air out. Finally, it deflated slowly as I made appropriate doctor-like hmm-ing sounds. “Seems OK, Colette.”

“What is it, Doctor?”

Okay, I remembered that mine was usually something like 120 over 80, so with a body like hers…”110 over 70.” I said, and scribbled it on the health form on the clipboard I had found. I wondered what my blood pressure must be by now. I looked around the room to see what other equipment I could find to keep my examination credible. On the back of the door I spotted an eye chart.

“Do you wear glasses, Collette?”


“Any vision problems you’re aware of?”

“No, Doctor.”

“All right, then, I’d like you to read that eye chart for me. First cover your left eye, and then your right. Go right down till you can’t read any further.”

As she read letters, I paid no attention, but continued to furtively inspect my surroundings. I saw a little jar of tongue depressors, one of those penlights, rubber gloves…

“Doctor? Did I do all right?”

“Yes, yes, Colette. You did great!” I scribbled 20/20 on the form. Now I scooped up the penlight and shined it in her eyes, trying to look serious and intent. Deep blue eyes. As I looked into them, she looked straight back at me, also serious, and I felt a bit guilty…

I shook the guilt away and reached for a tongue depressor. “Open your mouth and say ‘ahhhh’,” I said and smiled. She did, and I slipped in the tongue depressor in just a little ways past those pearly teeth, careful not to gag her, and shined the light in her mouth, having no idea what I was supposed to be looking at or for.

I set the instruments aside, and put my hands on either side of her throat, pretending to feel her glands or something. Then, I felt my way down a bit further, to her collarbone. Before I felt any further and showed myself to be completely unprofessional, I took my hands away and picked up the stethoscope. I raised the disc to her bare upper chest, framed by her bra straps, and touched it to her perfect skin, just a bit tan, contrasting with the bright white of the bra straps. Perfect, flawless skin. She shivered a bit as the metal of the stethoscope touched her warm body. “Sorry about that.”

I had had the presence of mind to put the earpieces of the stethoscope in my ears, so I could actually hear her heart pumping inside that great body! It was an odd sort of thrill, an intimacy I had never considered before, sharing this private rhythm with a woman I had not met till ten minutes ago. I continued to move the ‘scope around on her chest, not touching her breasts, but pretty much covering the rest of her chest. I could see her nipples making little bumps under the fabric of the bra. I then took the stethoscope to her back. “Breathe deeply for me Colette. Breathe in….” I watched her proud chest seem to inflate…”breathe out…” a warm, soft sigh of air left her lips…after a while, I felt I had conducted a sufficient examination with the stethoscope, I took up the clipboard and checked off “normal” next to “heart and lungs.”

“All right, Colette, you can lie back now.”

She did, stretching that luscious body out on the table, pulling her arms to her sides, and leaving her legs together, feet close between the stirrups at the end of the table. I held my hands tight together, hoping to make them warmer for her. Then, I pressed down on her flat belly, just below the line of her bra, not exactly sure how to do this. I wanted to be firm, to be believable, but I didn’t want to cause her any pain. I continued to feel down her abdomen; once as I pressed into her side she squirmed - it must have tickled. As I did so, I became more aware of the little panties covering her. She wore a string bikini, which was mostly a panel of lace. On a dark-haired girl, it would have been extremely revealing. On her, with her honey-colored curls, it was just very tantalizing. I tried to nonchalantly button up the white coat so as to not reveal just how tantalizing it was…my hands had now explored her body down below her belly button, and I was now feeling that firm flat plain of her flesh just above the waistband of her panties. I felt an electric tingle as the edge of my hand touched the lace trim there, just for a moment.

Well, the moment had arrived at last. “Now, Colette, if you would sit up and remove your bra, I need to check your breasts, if you don’t mind…”

She laughed at that. “You’re the doctor, Doctor.” She reached behind her back and unfastened the bra, then shrugged out of it, revealing her perfect breasts, round and firm, with deep pink, upturned nipples. Gulp! She sat there, expectantly. Please, please let my hands be warm enough!

I touched her, just like that, pressing my fingertips into the firm, warm flesh along the side of her breast. I thought I heard a sigh…I moved my fingers over the surface of her breast, pressing in, circling it. Soon, sooner than I would have liked, I had examined most of her breast as thoroughly as I thought I could without seeming suspicious, except for that proud, upright nipple. Now or never. I reached up and took her dark areola between my thumb and forefinger and gave a careful squeeze. This time, she gasped, but said nothing.

Now, I moved to the opposite breast, and followed the same procedure, feeling every inch of the firm female flesh. “Please lie down, Colette.” She lies back, and I have an excuse to feel those luscious tits one more time.

I go back over to the desk and write some more on the clipboard. “Now, Colette, the form says I need to examine your genitalia. You’ll need to remove your panties, and lie back on the table…”

She began to comply, hooking her thumbs in the waistband and slipping the scrap of lace down, down, over lean but rounded hips, strong thighs…right off her feet. Now, she sat there, holding them, and I suddenly realized she had no idea where to put them. Maybe that’s the idea behind those paper gowns. “Here…let me get that.” I take them from her, and now I have no idea where to put them. Finally, I toss them onto the little chair with the rest of her clothing.

Now, I turn my attention to my patient. She is lying on the table, completely naked, on her back, with her legs together. I can see the neatly shaped triangle of golden hair between her legs, perhaps one shade darker than the hair on her head. This is a bit terrifying, and I start to wonder if I’ll end up in jail. I’m going to sign my brother’s name on the form, I guess…he wouldn’t turn me in even if he knew about this, would he? Or what if I give her a clean bill of health, and she really has some disease that goes untreated because of me…?

“Doctor, I’m getting a little cold here. Could you please do whatever it is you have to do now?”

Reluctantly, I go back over. “Well, Colette, I need you to kind of move down this way…that’s it…to the bottom of the table. Okay, that’s good. Here, let me help you.” I take her foot, and her calf, and guide her into the stirrup, then do the same on the other side. Only after completing this do I realize that this woman is totally exposed to me; I am standing at the foot of the table, one hand still on her calf, and looking forward I can see every detail of her pussy: the soft hair around the edges, the puffy outer lips, the pink, wrinkled inner lips, the little button of a clitoris. I have the presence of mind to grab a pair of the latex gloves in the dispenser on the wall, and work my fingers into them.

I rested my hand lightly on her inner thigh, and then moved it to the trim triangle of hair above, using my fingers to spread her lips a bit. I placed two fingers in the slit, and the tips slid in easily; I realized that she must be wet! I looked up to the top of the table, and saw her angelic face, eyes closed, her mouth curled up in a half-smile. I slipped my fingers in deeper, deeper, up to my second knuckles…she moaned. I pulled them back quickly.

“I’m sorry! Did that hurt?” I asked, panic causing my heart to leap and pound.

“No. No, not at all…Doctor.” I slipped my fingers back in, even a bit deeper this time, and again she moaned, shifting her body downward on the table. She was breathing harder as I probed her wetness, and I remembered that I was supposed to press on her belly, so I put a hand on her stomach, just above the neat line of her pubic hair…

“Oh, Doctor…” I looked up to see that she was cupping one still-bare breast! As I watched, she began to massage her nipple, squirming and moaning on the table…she reached down and took my hand from her belly and slid it down between her legs and onto her lips, sliding over her clitoris. I began to gently rub, and my fingers began to move in and out of her, first slowly, tentatively, and then almost frantically as she bucked up and down on the table…”Oh, Doctor, oohhh, ooooooohhhhh, OOOOOOHHHHHHHH!”

She let out a deep sigh, and pushed my hands away; smiling broadly, she pushed herself to her elbows. “Thank you, Doctor. That’s certainly the best exam I’ve ever had. I trust I’m healthy?”

I nodded, dumbfounded.

“If you don’t mind, Doctor, I’d like to get dressed now. If you’d take that form out front and get it ready for me?”

Nod. Walk.

I found myself at the desk, checking boxes, scribbling, and doing a nearly illegible signature that bore no resemblance to English, let alone my own or my brother’s name. Shortly, Colette came walking out, arms swinging happily.

The main door of the office suite opened, and in walked Kyle. “Hello, Colette,” he said.

“Hullo, Dr. Kyle.”

I scrambled to pick my jaw up off the desk at her acknowledgement.

“Jack, this is my receptionist, Colette. So, Colette…” he asked, pulling out his wallet.

“Two hundred,” she said, as he pulled out a few fifties.

“What…??” I began.

“Your brother told me about your…interest in his work, Jack. So he and I made a little bet about what you might do given certain opportunities…”

“I bet on your virtue, Jack, and I lost.”

Colette walked up to me after pocketing the fifties. “I did put a lot of pressure on him, Kyle. He is only human, after all. And he has some talent in this field, too,” she said.

Which field, I wondered. She turned to face me. “But you did take advantage of me, Jack, in a big way. You’re going to have to make it up to me in a big way…tonight.”

And Colette and I have played a lot of games together since then, but that night, she was the doctor.