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‘What’s the matter, Margaret,’ I said, the absence of cooking smells and the sober skirt and blouse evidence that something had upset her equilibrium. I am not such an unreconstructed sexist as to necessarily expect to come home to a cooked dinner, and my wife dressed to thrill, but I had been married long enough to know when Margaret was agitated.
She was already grasping a gin and tonic, so I poured myself one, patted the sofa to invite her to sit beside me, and tell me what troubled her.
‘It was the doctor,’ she said, taking a large comforting sip of her drink.
‘What did she do to you?’
‘It was my annual woman’s wellness check.’
I felt a cold chill at the pit of my stomach.
‘You haven’t …’
‘No, no,’ she said, ‘I’m not ill, in fact I’m in the very best of health.’ Her tone did not reassure me, nor aid understanding.
‘So what’s the problem, if the examination showed there was nothing wrong?’
‘Everything was wrong,’ she snapped, with unanswerable feminine logic.
‘What was wrong?’
‘The examination.’
‘The examination?’
‘Yes, and stop sounding like a parrot.’
So I asked her to start at the beginning, and she did.
Her annual woman’s wellness check had been with Dr Murphy, our family GP for a number of years.
Dr Murphy was Asian English. I found her rather forbidding, though attractive in a severe way. Margaret liked her, not least because she preferred to have a woman perform her pap smears and breast checks.
The appointment had been for mid-afternoon and Margaret had made her usual preparations, a shower, clean underwear and sober blouse and skirt, not because she felt the need to dress up, but out of professional respect for the doctor. The clothes were largely irrelevant anyway, as Dr Murphy normally asked her to undress, to which Margaret did not object. It was not that she was a prude, or shy, she would have equally undressed for a male doctor if that was required, but Dr Murphy was a no nonsense woman who preferred to conduct her women’s wellness examinations briskly, and nude from the start was quicker.
Margaret took her kindle to read while she waited, and her appointment was delayed by about twenty minutes. Which was not unusual, so when she was called into the surgery there was no hint of anything out the ordinary.
The consultation followed its usual course. Dr Murphy confirmed that Margaret was due for her wellness checks and pap smear, and suggested she go behind the screen to undress.
Which is when she dropped the bombshell.
‘Oh, and Margaret, I have two medical students on work experience, do you mind if they sit in.’
Margaret was not thrilled by the request, the thought of two pimply students peering and poking at her was an unpleasant surprise. ‘But what the hell,’ she thought, ‘they have to get their experience somewhere, and maybe they’re young women.’
They were not, of course, they were both male. Margaret heard Dr Murphy open an adjoining door and ask them to join her, and when she emerged from behind the screen, naked as the day she was born, she found two, twenty something, medical students in brand new white coats smiling nervously at her.
It must obviously take some getting used to, having to look at a naked woman with professional disinterest, especially so in the case of one as beautiful as Margaret, with her full but still firm breasts, shapely waist, rounded buttocks and trim thighs. I have mentioned before her resemblance to Nigella Lawson, but I doubt the celebrity cook has a fully shaved mons, and, although I cannot personally attest to it, a pussy as nice as Margaret’s, with plump outer lips and neat inner ones, which, as Margaret had her legs closed, would still have been invisible. However, the sight of a shaved mons on a woman old enough to be their mother, in the flesh and not on some sleazy porn site, must have been a titillating experience for both of them.
Nudity in front of total strangers was not totally unfamiliar to Margaret, she and I had been to nude bath houses, saunas and clothing optional beaches, but she said there was something very confronting about stepping stark naked from behind a screen into the gaze of two young men. She was strongly tempted to cover up, but the thought of standing there with one arm across her breasts, and a hand cupping her sex, would have suggested she felt ashamed – which she did – or that she was worried they were leering at her, which she hoped they were not. She was not prepared to acknowledge either possibility, so she forced herself to relax, kept her arms by her sides, and looked the young men squarely in the eye.
‘This is Mrs Reynolds,’ said Dr Murphy, ‘she’s graciously agreed to your assisting me this morning for experience.’ She turned to Margaret. ‘This is Mr Pierce and Mr Walters, Margaret, they’re both in their final year at medical school.’
Margaret smiled, and stuck out her hand. It was the polite way to greet two young men who were strangers to her, but as soon as she had done it, she realized Uzun porno how utterly weird it was, to be totally naked and offering to shake hands with two fully dressed men. It seemed, too, that the young doctors were equally nonplussed, as they stared at her like rabbits caught in a spotlight. Despite her smile, she was mortified at the thought of them admiring her body and shaven mons, and catching a glimpse of her labia when her legs parted as she took half a step forward to greet them. She was also acutely conscious that her unsupported breasts were bouncing slightly as she did so. She knew she had nothing to be ashamed of, but could not help the flush of blood to her neck and face.
Walters was the first to recover his bedside – or was it his bedroom – manner. Perhaps he had seen hundreds of naked women; in any case, he reached for her hand as if it was the most natural act in the world, and shook it.
‘How do you do, Mrs Reynold’s,’ he said, managing not to glance down, but smiling and looking directly into her eyes.
He had a pleasant face, Margaret noted, and something about it struck her as familiar. She was about to say, do I know you, when she realised it might make the situation even more embarrassing if it prompted him to remember her. Hippocratic oath or no, she guessed that medical students were quite happy to swap salacious details of their patients, anonymously of course, but the thought that such a story might start with the line, ‘I examined a MILF I know yesterday, nude, boy she’s a cracker,’ was frightful, so she kept quiet.
‘I’m very well,’ said Margaret, thinking how stupid it sounded to be telling a doctor, albeit a trainee one, that she was well before he had even examined her.
‘I’m sure you are,’ said Walters, who had obviously watched plenty of medical dramas, ‘but that’s what we’re here to check.’
Pierce, the other student, shook her hand vigorously, presumably in order to hide his embarrassment, which, to her horror, set Margaret’s breasts jiggling again. He mumbled something she did not catch, before Dr Murphy, keen to keep things moving, took charge.
‘Gentlemen,’ she announced. ‘Mrs Reynolds is a regular patient. I know her medical history. But she’s a new patient as far as you’re concerned, here for her woman’s wellness check. Please conduct the usual examinations and ask any appropriate questions. Be thorough, but don’t waste the patient’s time.’ She turned to Margaret. ‘I’m sorry Margaret, this will take a bit longer than normal, you’re not in a hurry are you?’
‘No,’ said Margaret, trying not to sound as if she would rather do anything than spend an hour stark naked as a guinea pig for two medical students.
‘Excellent,’ said Dr Murphy. ‘Please take a seat on the bed.’ She turned to the students, ‘Breast examination first, would you oblige please, Mr Walters.’
‘Yes, Doctor,’ said Walters. ‘I’ll start with the usual questions on the risks of breast cancer. How old are you Mrs Reynolds?’
‘Forty six,’
‘And at what aged did you start menstruating?’
‘Fourteen,’ said Margaret, clearly remembering the confusion and shame she felt discovering the blood stained panties and jeans, and beginning to wonder if it was too late to say no to the whole thing.
‘Have you had children?’
‘Yes, two, the first when I was twenty-two and the second at twenty-four,’ adding the information she knew he would ask next.
‘And have you started the menopause?’
‘No,’ she said, thinking ‘Heavens above, do I look that old.’
‘And where are you in your menstrual cycle?’
‘Half way through,’ she said. ‘That’s right,’ she thought, ‘now you know I’m ovulating, and that normally makes me horny, and my breasts are sensitive, and if you checked my panties you might find out what leaks from women when they’re fertile.’
Actually Margaret was horny a lot of the time, when she was ovulating she was just hornier than normal. And I was not entirely surprised when Margaret reported that she found being asked these intimate questions, while stark naked, mildly exciting. Nevertheless, she was relieved that Walters kept his eyes professionally level with hers, while he continued to ask the routine questions about smoking, drinking and any current feelings of discomfort. Pierce, on the other hand, appeared to be staring at the floor, until she realised with horror that he periodically glanced between her legs. Looking down she realised her legs had slightly parted when she sat on the bed, and Pierce was being treated to glimpses of her labia. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and there was a strong urge to shut her legs to hide her shame. Which she resisted, telling herself that there was no shame in a medical examination, nor in being seen naked by two young trainee doctors who surely had seen naked women before, and would see many more in the course of their professional lives. Except she did not believe it, and her face continued to burn.
Finally, satisfied with her answers, Walters announced that he was Öğrenci porno ready to move on to the examination of her breasts.
He began with a visual inspection, voicing his observations that they appeared normal, were approximately symmetrical, and had no obvious swellings or scars. He inspected her nipples and pronounced them free from inversion and discharge. Finally, he asked her to lift her breasts with her hands so he could look underneath. As it was a visual inspection both Walters and Pierce had leaned in for a closer view, and Margaret said she could almost feel their eyes devouring her. She has, in my biased opinion, magnificent breasts, full and rounded, with large prominent nipples, and still firm enough that she can go without a bra.
Decorative they might be, but their prime function was to suckle young, and being the subject of such a close up inspection, Margaret said she felt a bit like a prize cow or brood mare, being judged in prime condition as a milker.
Their visual feast completed, Walters began rubbing his hands together, as much, Margaret suspected, with anticipation at handling what he had been admiring, as to warm them. She braced herself.
‘I should like to manually examine your breasts, now, if you don’t mind Mrs Reynolds.’
She had never minded when Dr Murphy examined her breasts, nor any of her previous doctors, with the exception of the first time, accompanied by her mother, when she had not known what to expect. No one apart from her mother had ever seen her developing breasts until then, certainly no man or boy, and the doctor seemed such an old man, with cold, hard hands whose touch was quite unpleasant. Since then she had grown accustomed, and in the right circumstances to enjoy, having her breasts handled. They had been groped by teenagers, played with by me, suckled from by our two children, and mistreated by Sofietje. So what difference should another pair of hands make, except they were hands of boys the same age as those that had embarrassingly groped and fumbled them when she was a girl. It felt wrong, and she gritted her teeth in order to reply, ‘No, go ahead.’
‘Thank God, his hands are warm,’ she thought, as Walters commenced palpating her left breast. His touch was firm and gentle, and confident as he worked his way thoroughly over her breast, feeling for any lumps or abnormalities. She was ashamed to admit that it was surprisingly pleasant. Dr Murphy’s fingers probed harder, sometimes painfully so when her breasts were sensitive, as they were now. But Walters’ touch was lighter, for which she was grateful. Until he turned his attention to her nipple, which seemed to have a mind of its own and promptly stiffened as he gently pressed his fingers around the areola and over the teat.
‘Fuck,’ she thought, annoyed by her body’s reaction. The same thing often occurred during Dr Murphy’s examination of her breasts. But whereas the doctor was experienced enough to know that it was spontaneous, now Margaret worried that Walters might think he had aroused her, and she was afraid to catch his eye, or to look down, as if by not acknowledging it the stiffening had not happened.
It had happened, though, and it happened again when Walters examined her right breast. But if he noticed that Margaret now had two firmly erect nipples, his face gave nothing away, even though Margaret felt her face flush with embarrassment again.
‘Everything seems quite normal there, Mrs Reynolds,’ said Walters.
‘Yes, and you’ve got a lovely pair of tits and excited nipples,’ said Margaret, silently, for him, glad that her breasts would now be left alone.
‘Mr Pierce, would you continue with the lymph nodes, collarbone and axillary area,’ said Dr Murphy, and then, almost as an afterthought that made Margaret drop her head in embarrassment, ‘and you may as well palpate the breasts for familiarity.’
Margaret said Pierce almost jumped when he heard the instruction. For a moment, it looked as if he would panic at having to touch the breasts of a real, live woman, and not the mannequins on which he had trained. Real breasts, he was going to touch real breasts, Margaret could read the thoughts written all over his face. He was not unattractive, but he was clearly uncomfortable in the presence of a naked woman. Margaret almost felt sorry for him, and wondered whether he was intimidated by the vast gulf in their ages and sexual experience. Perhaps he was still a virgin, or had very little experience with girls his own age. Perhaps he really had never seen a naked woman before, and certainly not one old enough to be his mother, with a shaved vulva, and who had enjoyed blissful, frenzied, messy sexual intercourse more times in and more ways than he could yet imagine.
I told her she was being fanciful, that Pierce more likely had a massive erection that he was desperate for her and Dr Murphy not to notice.
She laughed, and said it never occurred to her to look at their crotches. Which I took with a grain of pink Himalayan rock salt, as Margaret was never averse to checking out men’s packages, as if to be sure she was not missing anything. Young they may have been, but if their erections were visible beneath the white coats, Margaret would have been estimating length and girth to the millimetre.
Whatever lurked unseen behind Pierce’s fly, however, she told me he gulped, pulled himself together, and asked her to lift her arms.
He started with her breasts, following the same routine as Walters, and with the same inevitable result. In fact, Margaret’s nipples stiffened more quickly under his touch, quite possibly because he was unsure of himself, fumbling about as if reluctant to take them firmly in his hands and palpate them, the soft fingering of her nipples feeling more like stroking. His hands were also colder than Walters’, and she blushed again feeling her nipples harden between his fingertips. Although she felt ashamed of her body’s reaction, especially as there was now a slight tingling warmth between her legs, she could not honestly say that the touching was offensive, and even managed an encouraging smile as he felt his way up to her collarbone, and checked the glands in her neck and armpits.
Margaret perspires when she is embarrassed. Ladies perspire, she laughingly tells me, they don’t sweat. Perspiration or sweat, Margaret dripped it profusely when heated, either from physical or sexual activity. I loved it, there was something so primal about coupling with a hot, sweaty woman, whose skin was aglow and glistening, and between whose large, rounded breasts rivulets of sweat ran. Margaret knew she was perspiring now, that her armpits were damp, despite an extra layer of deodorant. She is also ticklish, and fought to ignore Pierce’s fingers as they probed her armpits. Unsuccessfully, as the probing caused her to giggle and squirm, which only added to her embarrassment. Finally, thankfully, he finished his inspection and announced that everything appeared normal.
‘Good,’ said Dr Murphy. ‘Would you lie on your side now Margaret, facing the wall.’
Margaret lay down and rolled over, still doing her best to keep her legs together, even though there seemed little point, as she knew what was coming. She was going to end up with everything on view anyway in a few minutes, but still felt it worth preserving what little modesty she had for as long as possible. She wondered why Dr Murphy had not offered her a gown, with the two male students present. She knew she normally conducted wellness checks with her patients nude, it saved the hassle of constantly adjusting the gown to expose the body parts separately. But it was different when it was just the two of them, both women. She wondered if she should ask for one now. She was embarrassed, and it was humiliating to be examined totally naked by two inexperienced medical students, surely Dr Murphy could appreciate that, she thought. There was nothing in the doctor’s face, however, to suggest she had the slightest inkling that the situation might be embarrassing, to either the naked female patient or the medical students. Margaret worried that if she said something now, Dr Murphy might think she was being overly sensitive, and there would be the fuss of the examination being halted while a gown was located. The nurse, and perhaps even the patients in the waiting room, would realise she had asked for a gown, and she was mortified by the thought of their winks and knowing smiles as the gossip spread that she had been partially examined in the nude by two medical students. It was humiliating either way, so she steeled herself to keep quiet and rolled onto her side.
‘Please carry on with the rectal examination, Mr Pierce,’ said Dr Murphy.
‘I’m going to examine your rectum, Mrs Reynolds,’ said Pierce, the uncertainty clear in his voice. Almost afraid to look, Margaret glanced over her shoulder and watched him pull on a pair of blue latex gloves. He had large, long fingers, she noticed, that looked even bigger squeezed into blue latex, and she turned away waiting for the inevitable.
She felt a hand lift the upper buttock to expose her anus, and then Pierce’s warm breath on her skin as he bent down to peer into the crevice. She felt his finger probing her perineum and then proceed in a circle, probing and stretching the skin as he methodically worked his way around the rim of her anus.
‘You have a small external haemorrhoid,’ announced Pierce, apparently pleased he had found something to report. Does it cause you any discomfort?’
‘You mean when my husband shoves his cock or a vibrator up there,’ she said silently, glad he could not see her smile, and wondering how shocked he would be if she told him. ‘Occasionally,’ she said aloud, ‘I use a cream, or sometimes a suppository.’
‘Er, yes, okay,’ he stammered, as if hearing too much information. ‘I’m going to insert a finger in you now.’
‘I’m going to insert a finger in you now,’ she mimicked silently, wondering if he should have expressed himself quite so bluntly, and at the slight fluttering in her stomach that he had. She knew he was unsure of himself, and that he only meant to prepare her, but it sounded surprisingly authoritative, like, ‘You’ve no choice Mrs Reynolds, I’m going to shove a finger up your arse, whether you want it or not.’
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