Yet Another Fucing Doctor Story

Am I ever going to get enough of this story theme? Probably not.

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"What do you mean, you're worried about messing up?"

Brooke said this, puzzled, as she looked at her friend. They were standing on the sidewalk that marked the boundary between campus and town, their poses and body language very much of the stereotypical, attractive young college women they were. Traffic was heavy, flowing past in a steady stream, and when the university shuttle bus pulled away from the curb near them both girls turned their heads to let the diesel smoke clear. Brooke stuck her tongue out in a mock gag. Why don't they make these electric already, she thought.

Olivia's face was scrunched up anxiously as usual and she was biting her lip. A cute girl, to be sure, dressed nicely in a light blue sweater and jeans, hands folded across her chest, backpack slung casually with a strap over one shoulder. Make-up on point. Brooke smiled to herself. From what she knew, Olivia's life was always one tiny step away from disaster--like the school assignments she never quite remembered or this doctor appointment she had made today at the very last minute before the deadline--but somehow she managed to put it all together with regard to her appearance.

Brooke looked again at her friend. It was a wonder. More than just put together, Olivia was quite a spectacular college beauty. Brooke herself was the other way around: sometimes it felt that she had everything under control except for the way she looked. She sighed. Maybe it was just about priorities. Did she care enough about what other people thought of her? Definitely not as much as Olivia did.

The street noises quieted enough for Olivia to answer.

"I don't know... I mean, I haven't been to the doctor since I was a little kid."

Brooke shook her head, confused. "Olivia. They're like your service provider. They're there to do a job for you. It's not a performance. There's nothing to mess up."

"I know." She blew out a puff of air from pursed lips. "It's just..."

"I have to run," Brooke interrupted. She loved her dear and closest friend, but at the moment there was no time to console her, to deal with her hesitation about life's routine duties, to comfort her, to help her get all her shit together. To tell her that everybody liked her and it was all going to be okay. That seemed to be Olivia's main worry, that she wouldn't do what people expected from her, and let somebody down.

And Brooke wanted to be supportive. But at the moment, she had a hundred other things to deal with in her own life. "Just go get it done, Liv. Then you'll have everything you need for the visa, right?"

"Yeah, I think." Olivia thought about her upcoming semester abroad, and all of the other paperwork that loomed in front of her. It all seemed too much. That caused her to think of a few more questions that she should ask Brooke.

But Brooke could see where this was going and cut her off.

"Olivia. Listen, you're fine. Go do this thing, get the papers signed, then get to your classes. I'll catch up with you tonight, okay? You can run through your checklist with me."

Brooke paused her pep talk and eyed her friend suspiciously. "You did make the checklist, right?"

"Yes..." Olivia said hesitantly, and not entirely truthfully.

"Good. See you then, girl."

And with a peck on Olivia's cheek Brooke turned away from her friend and began looking for a way to cross the four lanes of traffic to the Walgreens opposite them.

"I hope he's young and hot!" she said impulsively over her shoulder as she spotted a gap in the traffic.

"Who?" Olivia was confused.

"The doctor, silly." Then as she jumped into the street she yelled back, loudly, "The one who's going to check you out!"

"Brooke!" Olivia gasped in surprise, glancing around her to see who might have overheard her friend's bald remark. My God, Brooke was so dear to her but sometimes she was just too much! She could feel her face turning bright red and dropped her gaze to the ground to avoid eye contact with anyone. Slowly she felt herself calming down and looked back up.

Brooke was navigating the heavy foot traffic on the opposite sidewalk and then disappeared into the store with a simple wave back to her. A melancholy feeling swept over Olivia suddenly. She hated saying goodbye to anyone she loved--and she loved people deeply--to be left by herself to grapple with the big world and her own direction in it, or lack of direction as was typical in her case.

People all around were bustling to and fro on their own business. They all seemed so purposeful. To her, everyone else always seemed to know exactly what they were doing with all of their own affairs of their busy lives, and she felt that familiar sense of loneliness rise up within her. A longing to be with people who cared about her and gave her a sense of place. To have a belonging.

She liked being with people. She was really good at people. Understanding what they wanted. How to behave in order to make them feel comfortable with her, how to fit in. Taking pleasure in acting an appropriate role, in the role expected of her.

She wasn't a person with a strong sense of individual drive and action, and wondered how many of the people rushing around her with those serious, intent faces actually felt like she did inside, or if she was the only one who felt confused and without a strong internal compass.

A man strode directly towards her; early 40's with a neatly trimmed haircut and beard, carrying a briefcase. Attractive. Now here was a man who seemed to have just such an internal compass that she was thinking she lacked. He wasn't any regular college boy.

She imagined that he was a professor. She liked the way his face told the world that he was important, serious, and intelligent, but still friendly. A man like that could hold her in his arms and adore her, tell her she was beautiful and that she was all that he needed. He would run his fingers through her hair, touch her forehead, and fall completely in love with her.

She would trust a man like that. And she would obey him, please him. Fantasies of submission gave her a warm feeling inside. On the surface it meant giving up power, doing what the other wanted, but in a deeper way it gave her power of a sort, because he would need her so badly and she would grant him the gift of obeying him. That shifted some of the control to her, didn't it? She liked to believe this, anyway. It was a thrill she didn't experience in real life, only in fantasy. But it was a powerful fantasy for her.

The professor gave her an appreciative glance as he passed, first at her face and then involuntarily down to take in her figure. Her heart quickened and her mind wandered. What if she was that professors' wife?

He'd be famous and giving the keynote speech at the international symposium with attendees having traveled from around the world to hear him. From the front row they would sit and listen and their respect for him would be visible on their faces, and afterwards when they crowded him and demanded his individual attention, he would say firmly, Gentlemen, I would love to stay and talk with you about the latest research in titanium oxides but I must go back to office now to fuck my wife; I've been waiting all day for it.

Sometimes she'd even let herself take her fantasies into the realm of the degrading. Why she got a kick out of teasing herself with this she didn't know, but that's the way it was. Something about being used and even humiliated by a powerful man turned her on. She wouldn't do this in real life, she thought, but she heard once that it was healthy to let your brain be unrestrained in the world of fantasy.

Like in the case of her professor, maybe there'd be a knock on the door while she was naked in there with him and he would answer, Who is it? Thurman, sir, a squeaky voice would reply. One of his grad students. Come in, Thurman, he'd say, but I'm fucking my beautiful wife, so this had better be good--You see these tits? You don't get tits like this every day. Round, firm. Wouldn't you like to have tits like this to enjoy whenever you want?

Yes, sir. I would, sir. Sorry to interrupt, but you know the Tungsten experiment I've been running with Xiaoming? We have the results. They are good, you should see them. The professor would then stop mid-pump with his cock deep inside his beautiful and hot wife. Good data, Thurman? He'd say. Well, okay. Then pulling out, Honey why don't you suck my cock while I look over this data. Good girl, just kneel right there.

Jesus, she thought, what a sudden fantasy. Where did that come from?

She was turning herself on, and found herself about to put her hand up to mash her tit in the middle of the street. What had gotten into her today? This wasn't at all like her. She watched the backside of her fantasy professor disappear down the street and looked down to the ground again, suddenly embarrassed even though she knew nobody could read her mind.

Her need to find a strong and even dominating personality to guide her and provide her validation was a deep part of her own character. But in an unexpected demonstration of self-awareness, knowing that this characteristic was a danger for getting into abusive situations, she had been successful in limiting her own relationships in her life. In fact, so far the total count was just two, both from high school and none in college yet where she'd maintained a high bar.

The high school guys never made it far. The first, a wiry athlete named Jack, was too naive and confused to know what to do with her. In a sense he didn't know what he had stumbled into in his quickly passing youth--by the time he would realize how precious she was and what he could have done with her, he would be far older and with far fewer of these opportunities. His uncertainty and inexperience was unattractive to her.

She craved a mature man, someone with confidence and purpose. Jack was unsure of himself and was looking for a woman to help him figure it all out. Maybe he needed a strong woman in the same way that she craved a strong man. She gave in and let him fool around a little on a few dates, letting him give her some tentatively and badly executed kisses and to squeeze her tits awkwardly before he came in his pants with a few simple touches. He didn't hold her interest and she broke it off.

The second was a handsome devil from Puerto Rico named Miguel who swept her off her feet with a bouquet of roses and chocolate on their first date. He was very well polished and groomed, and in fact, when Olivia surprised him with a cake she had baked for his birthday and brought it over to his house an hour before they were set to go out, she found her polished and groomed boyfriend in bed with another polished and well-groomed boy. She was submissive by nature but not a fool. This was too much for her, and so that one ended as well without progressing much either.

That was the extent of her sex life history. Aside from a few toys she had tried on her own, of course.

And so far in college, the boys that she had met in her dorm and classes seemed, well... like boys. She wanted a man. It wasn't for lack of opportunity. Her looks encouraged many offers. But she didn't want to be the conquest of some little boy in his cluttered dorm room, fumbling around awkwardly with her bra and his own zipper before he shot his load all over his own underwear in juvenile giddiness. She wanted a man. A hot doctor man, maybe, she mused... as she thought back to Brooke's embarrassing comment in the street.

She reflected on her upcoming appointment. Up to this point, she had been nervous about what she would be asked to do and how she would behave. But it had only been a hazy thought, and if she had pictured any audience at all it was merely a vague concept of some sort of medical establishment personnel. Her brain hadn't processed all the way to the reality of one individual, hot doctor checking her body out, as Brooke had illustrated so vividly. This specific concept was, to be honest, exciting, but also a little scary for her.

She bit her lip and decided to face it one step at a time. Her mother always told her not to borrow trouble. What had Brooke just told her? Go get it done. Get the papers signed. Olivia didn't want to face her friend tonight with a disappointing report, so she pushed away her hesitations and decided that she would take the advice and do what needed doing. And checking her phone, it had to be now--she was already in danger of being late. Another stinky campus shuttle bus was pulling up to the curb anyway, so this was the time for her exit.

Once she was set to action it was a brisk walk across town and then she found herself on the third floor of a three-story medical building outside an impressively dark-stained wooden door. Calgary Medical Associates, it said in a gold-embossed lettered sign in fancy script. A list of individual doctors too long to read appeared below in small print, all caps. Many of them had additional lettered suffixes to their names that she didn't recognize, offering further proof of their expertise as if the heavy oak door wasn't enough.

Well, she'd put this off long enough, she knew. And she really did want to get this semester to Spain figured out and on track, so with a new found resolve. It was second nature to check and recheck her own appearance so she took a look down at herself to straighten out the wrinkles in her sweater and tug her jeans to the center and around her ass.

She was dismayed to find a spot on her chest. The fuck, she thought. and right there on my boob. How did that get there? She ran back through her morning routine, where she had coffee and grabbed the donut. It wasn't that noticeable but it annoyed her. She looked up and down the hallway and tried to brush it off of her sweater. She had only a bra underneath so taking it off wasn't an option. Ignoring the stain was the only choice but it put her in an irritated mood. She spent a few more moments running her hands over her chest to fix it the best she could.

Sighing, she pushed open the heavy door with some effort and entered the hallowed chamber.

The waiting room was smaller than she expected, and the check-in routine except for when the middle-aged, slightly pudgy receptionist told her that Dr. Scott was delayed and would be with her in about twenty minutes, and that she was sorry for the delay.

"Is Dr. Scott a man?" Olivia asked directly, surprising herself. Brooke's comment must have been lingering in her mind. She normally wasn't so direct about standing up for her interests.

"Why yes, honey," the receptionist said, looking up at her young client. Her name tag read Madge which of course it would. Madge wouldn't win any beauty contests, but she had a certain attractiveness for her age, Olivia thought, and she was wearing a low-cut blouse that showed more of her bulging breasts from Olivia's standing view than she thought Madge would have wanted. Olivia could even see the upper edge of Madge's large brown nipples showing along with her cleavage.

"Would you prefer a female doctor?"

Olivia brought her gaze back. She didn't know how to respond to this. Of course she would prefer a woman, but she was nervous about making a fuss. She looked over her shoulder at the other two people in the waiting room, a young man and an older woman, both sitting and looking down at their laps. The guy was on his phone and the woman was reading a magazine. Olivia wasn't sure if it was okay to make a special request about the gender of the doctor and she was conscious of appearing immature or weird to her small audience. And also to Madge.

"We have three women on staff here," Madge droned on, her breasts jiggling as she talked.. "None are available today, but you can reschedule for next week I think. Or the week after. Let me check their schedules."

"No, no, Dr. Scott will be fine," Olivia said hurriedly, catching the glance of the young man and already feeling embarrassed to have asked about this. She hated being a special case and being called out for making a bother.

"Okay, honey, then just have a seat and we'll call you in a bit. Fill out these three pages and sign the places where I put the X'es." Olivia thought that Madge had seen enough of the office today and was ready to get home to relax. She wondered what her life was like. A night of buttered popcorn and binge-watching the second season of Big Little Lies?

She took a seat in the corner, trying to be unnoticed but also glancing secretly at the young man on his phone when she passed him. He was pretty cute, a wisp of blonde hair falling over one eye. Probably a student. Maybe he had more going on at home than Madge did. A girl? What kind of sex did he have? He looked like a nice, reserved guy, but did he and his girl have some kinks? Did they go for anal sex? Did he get it all the time, like this morning, then he comes out to walk around cool as can be?

Wow, she thought to herself. Why was her brain in this sexual mood today? Fantasizing about being a professor's wife? Looking at the receptionist's breasts? Checking out the dude waiting for the doctor? What else am I going to sexualize today, she wondered.

What if the doctor had a thing for Madge? After work every day, he'd come up behind her with his bald head and fat stomach and snap his fingers for Madge to assume the position. She'd bend over obediently, her breasts spilling out of that loose blouse, helped by his fat fingers unsnapping her bra, and he'd say something like, Madge, you filed that paperwork wrong for the Baskins case, for that you get 10 spanks. Yes, sir, she'd say, sorry sir, and then he'd say you know I don't spank over panties, to which she'd say yes, sir, and pull her panties down exposing her bare round ass. He'd smack her white pudgy bottom over and over while she whimpered, and her ass turned a bright shade of pink.

She giggled out loud and the older woman looked over to her. Oh my God, what the fuck am I doing, she thought. What has gotten into me? She almost burst out laughing, wondering why she'd been sexualizing poor hard-working Madge with the luxurious tits at the front desk. And why did her brain go there, was the doctor really going to be a fat, balding guy?

A nurse appeared at the doorway and interrupted her thoughts with a patient call; but it wasn't for her. It was Mr. Blonde Young Man. This time Olivia gawked openly at him as he stood up and walked, distracted, to the clinic door on command. Jeans looked really good on guys, she thought. The way the fabric highlighted the thighs and ass. This guy was lean and good looking. I wouldn't mind being his doctor and giving him a checkout, was the thought that flitted across her mind, surprising herself.

I'm always thinking submissive, she thought. What if I try something dominant? So this cute guy goes into his little exam room and I'm the doctor and I knock on his door, walking in while he's still half-undressed. Sorry, he apologizes nervously, I haven't gotten the gown on yet. No problem, just stop there, I say, his naked ass still hanging out. I'll take a look at your cock first anyway, just pull that gown back off and put your dick right here into my hands. That's it. Nice cock you've got, I like how it's got some weight to it.

She smiled. It was an intriguing fantasy. She could see the attraction of being the one in calm, cool control, ordering the other person around. But it was far enough from her natural personality that she didn't see her doing that in real life. Plus she was afraid she'd run out of ideas once she'd inspected his cock and squeezed his ass or something.

In an attempt to redirect her brain away from all this sexual energy, she started to compose an update for Brooke. But she struggled with what to say, and before she could get very far the nurse reappeared at the little doorway and called her name. Her heart fell. Shit, she thought, the doctor awaits to check out my body. Fantasies are all fun and all, but when it's for real it's a different level.