Author's Note: In addition to being a full-time college professor, I have a "second job" off campus that is very rewarding, both for its monetary benefits and for the occasional erotic situations such as the one described below. While the names have been changed, the following story is completely true. And while the entire ongoing account is worthy of possibly ten or even more chapters, I will refrain from spending my time writing them until you, the readers, indicate you enjoyed (or disliked, despised, hated) this first offering. So please drop me your comments if you do (or don't) want more.
* * * * *
Lisa Gains was/is almost too beautiful to describe. My first glance at her, as she entered my primary office, resulted in a neck-wrenching double-take and an almost instantaneous stirring in my groin. She was around 5'8" tall, and couldn't have weighed more than 125 pounds. Her breasts were nicely separated and pleasantly small, probably stretching a tape measure to around 34 or 35 inches. Her extremely long, blond hair shimmered under the pleasant, soft glow of my fluorescent lighting, and swayed across the top of her shapely ass as she walked. Her face, her hair, her entire body, was just too perfect not to be completely natural.
I guess I should introduce and describe myself. My name is Doctor Leonard Beeman, and I have a very successful medical physiologist and psychologist practice in addition to my full professorship at a large, east coast university situated less than a mile away. My speciality is treating various human behavior disorders, most often with a uniquely medical and mental mixture of treatments. And, while various types of eating disorders make up the majority of my patient list, I also treat other types of medical problems. Sexually related problems were second only to the dietary situations already mentioned.
On a more personal note, I am a single (divorced two years from the troll) white male, 6 feet tall, 44 years old, and with a semi-muscular build (from regular exercise, which I suggest for every person I talk to professionally). I work out at least three times every week, and swim at least five days each week in my condo pool. Oh yes (for those of you who may be interested), about my package. I have been blessed with an eight inch long, relatively thick, penis that is nicely supported by a pair of healthy, large testicles. I have measured my seminal fluid discharge at orgasm, and I generally expel between four and six fluid ounces (substantially greater than average) in the seven to nine spurts (also more than the average male) that are my personal norm.
Lisa was a new patient, making her first visit to my office on this day. On the information forms she indicated her personal problem was sexual in nature. She was 26, married to a business manager for seventeen months, and with no children. I was curious about that since she had also checked the "no" box beside the question concerning her current use of birth control pills or other contraceptive devices. In fact, according to her answers in that section, she did not use any contraception of any kind.
I walked out from behind my desk and sat down in one of the consultation chairs situated in the middle of the room. She took a seat in a chair facing mine that I indicated, crossed her right knee over her left leg, adjusted the hem of her rather expensive, modestly cut dress, cleared her throat, and cast her eyes down at the floor near my feet.
"How can I help you, Mrs. Gains?"
"Oh, Doctor, I don't really know where to actually begin."
"Well, why don't you begin by telling me exactly what your problems are, and we will address them one at a time. I see from your forms that you indicated they are sexual in nature."
"Yes, they are. I guess I'm not very good in bed with my husband. When we have sex it rarely lasts more than a minute or two. I never feel anything. I read about women who have multiple orgasms and are almost always sexually fulfilled, and I don't even know what an orgasm is! I am very sexually frustrated, I guess. I think there must be something physically wrong with me. Or, maybe it's a mental thing. I just don't know. I am terribly worried that I may be frigid or something."
I could see the tears beginning to well up in her eyes, and I could sense the frustration she felt. Just then my nurse stuck her head in the door and told me she was leaving for the day unless I needed her for something. I told her no, and she closed the door softly.
"Mrs. Gains,... er, may I call you Lisa?"
"That would be fine, Doctor."
"Well, Lisa, I'm certain we can address your problem successfully, regardless of what it might be. It's very rare for any sexual problem, physical or mental, not to be treatable."
"That's wonderful, Doctor. When can we start?"
"Right now, if you would like. Why don't we go into the examination room and I will give you a physical exam."
We both stood up and I led the way to a door off my office that led to my examination rooms. Once inside I instructed her to step behind the dressing screen and disrobe completely, and put on one of the cloth gowns she would find there. She stepped behind the screen and I sat down at the tiny desk in the room, silently amazed that I would soon be seeing, touching, probing, and caressing this woman's beautiful body. Oh, I know Doctors are not supposed to have thoughts like that, but we are entitled to take a little pleasure in the few nice bodies we treat after seeing, touching, and probing all the overweight, chubby and fat bodies that pay our country club dues and greens fees.
She stepped out from behind the screen, her gown on and tied at the waist. I stood in front of her and asked her to remove the gown, which she did. As she did, I was treated to a truly rare and erotic sight. She had what I consider to be the perfect body. Her breasts were perfectly shaped, firm, apple-sized cones with the pink nipples ever-so-slightly upturned. There were not even any visible flaws such as moles or scars. But there was a strong stirring in my crotch that I knew I had to fight.
"I'm going to start with a breast exam first, Lisa. Just try to relax." With that I reached up and placed my hands on her right breast, squeezing it gently and feeling for any irregularities. There were none. I felt the nipple, squeezing it and even pinching it slightly. I saw her eyes roll up slightly, and asked if I were hurting her in any way.
"Oh, no, Doctor. Whatever you are doing feels good. Actually, it feels wonderful."
I switched to her left breast and continued the exam, kneading that mammary gland in the same manner as its mate. "When you and your husband have sex," I asked, "does he spend much time feeling and touching your breasts?"
"Oh, no! He almost never touches them. When he does, it feels good. When he is lying on top of me I try to wiggle my chest against his because that feels really good to me."
I was beginning to have some strange thoughts about her husband. Any guy who wouldn't want so spend endless hours paying homage to those beautiful boobs with hands, lips, teeth and tongue had to be absolutely sick in the head. Maybe he, not her, should be my patient. Oh, perish that thought, please.
