GYNECOLOGIST

I sat right outside the doctor's office, my gynecologist. I've wanted to get one for a while now but I just couldn't do it myself so my best friend managed to book an appointment with this one.

“I heard he's only available to a few and doesn't accept all his patients,” said one of the ladies at the other end of the reception.

“And even the few he accepts, you can lose your appointment a day to it.” The other lady replied.

It seems I'm lucky because I got accepted on my first trial here.

I've been sitting here for about thirty minutes, for someone who doesn't take many patients he sure takes his time to get his work done. I sat there, legs crossed, a magazine on my hand as a lady walked out of the office - she was glowing and she seemed happy. Seeing her I was assured that my appointment was going to go well.

“Mrs Taylor, the doctor is ready for you.” The nurse called out.

I looked around expecting another Taylor to get up but it seemed I was the one she was referring to.

I stood up, walked up to the nurses table first, “It's Miss not Mrs.” I corrected her gently.

Realizing her mistake she apologized immediately and I entered the office. The office walls were white and if I'm being honest that was the clearest white I've ever seen, the doctor wasn't in his office but his coat was hanging right there on his cloth hanger.

I turned my seat and sat on it, a minute later I heard a voice from behind me.

“Good day young lady.” In a deep but calm voice.

I turned my chair around and right there I couldn't believe my eyes. He was more than a doctor, his broad shoulders, muscular features and his defined jawline shone as bright as the sun as he stood. I'm sure he could be a pro basketballer - damn he had height.

For a second I forgot why I was there.

“Now this is the gynecologist I need.” I whispered under my breath.

He walked up to his seat and sat down.

“So what brings you here today?”

I found myself struggling for words as I tried to speak. “Doc… Doctor i-”

“Doctor Pete,” he cut me off.

“Doctor Pete, I'm here because I need a gynecologist.”

“Why?”

“I've been feeling pains in my pelvic area. It comes and goes but it's been worse lately.”

“Are you married?”

“No”

“A boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Sexually active?”

“What's with all the questions?”

“I'm sorry if you feel uncomfortable but it's standard procedure.” he replied calmly.

“I thought I filled a form before this appointment.” I said like I was ready for a fight.

“Well, these questions are for this appointment and that was to register with us.”

Dr Pete nodded, listening carefully. He asked a series of questions like when the pain started, how often, if it was linked to my cycle, if I had discomfort during sex.

The questions kept coming but he remained calm and respectful, his hands steady as he took down notes.

“I'll run a quick exam on you,” Dr Pete said. “Would you be comfortable with a physical examination today?” He asked gently.

I hesitated.

“It's the best way for me to understand what is going on.”

The nerves in my stomach twisted. “Yes.”

He stood up. “You can change behind the screen. There's a gown on the hook. Everything goes off from the waist down, take your time.”

This was already more intimate than I was ready for.

My hands were slightly shaky as I changed. When I came out and climbed onto the examination table I felt completely exposed and vulnerable.

Dr Pete was professional. He explained every single step before he did it. He started by warming his instruments, what he was checking for, how long it would take. His gloved hands were careful and gentle.

But my body reacted.

When his fingers pressed inside during the internal exam, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stay quiet. A warm flush spread through my lower belly, I felt myself getting wet and prayed he wouldn't notice.

He didn't comment but I caught the slight pause in his movements.

“You're doing very well,” he assured me softly. “Just breathe for me.”

I nodded.

“I need you to answer my questions with yes or no.”

His hands moved around my pelvic area

“Does this hurt?”

“No.”

“Here?”

“No.”

This wasn't going to end soon.

“Here?”

“A little.”

“And here?”

Even before he could finish asking i let out a loud cry.

“Ouch.”

“I think that answers my question.”

By the time the exam finished, my heart was racing and my face felt hot.

He stepped back, removed and trashed his gloves and gave me space to sit up and adjust the gown.

“Everything looks healthy on the surface,” he said. “But I'll like to run a few tests and see you again in two weeks. We'll go over the results then.”

I nodded still trying to steady my breathing.

As I was leaving, he gave me one last professional look but there was something else in his eyes. Something warmer made me curious.

“Take care of yourself, Mel. See you in two weeks.”

The way he said my name made something flutter low in my stomach. Butterflies?

I walked out of that office with shaky legs and one dangerous thought repeating in my head:

This man is certainly danger

Two weeks felt both too long and too short.

I tried not to think about Dr Pete but my mind kept drifting back to his calm voice, his steady hands, the way my body had reacted during the exam.I felt guilty for even remembering it that way. He was my doctor, nothing more.

Still when the day of my follow up came. I spent longer than usual getting ready. I chose a simple blouse and a knee length skirt but I caught myself checking the mirror more times than necessary.

The waiting room felt familiar now. Same beige walls, same soft music. When the nurse called my name, my stomach did a tiny flip.

Dr Pete was already at his desk when I walked in. He looked up and gave me that same professional smile but his eyes lingered a bit longer.

“Mel Taylor, Good to see you again. How have you been feeling?”

“Still the same,” I admitted, sitting down. “A little better on some days, worse on others.”

He nodded, listening carefully as I described the symptoms in more detail. Then he suggested we do another exam to compare with the last one.

“Would that be okay?”

I hesitated only for a moment before nodding.

Behind the screen my hands trembled slightly as I undressed. When I climbed onto the table, I felt more aware of everything.

Dr Pete was as professional as before. He explained each step, warmed the instruments and kept his voice calm but this time the exam felt different.

His gloved fingers pressed inside me gently checking the same areas as last time. I tried to stay still but a small sound escaped my throat when he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“Sorry,” I whispered, embarrassed.

“Don't apologize,” he said softly. “Your body is responding naturally. It helps me understand what's going on.”

His fingers moved with careful precision, pressing and exploring. I felt myself getting wet again. My breathing became shallow, I gripped the sides of the table, trying not to squirm.

Dr Pete paused.

“Everything alright?” He asked, voice lower than before.

I nodded quickly, too ashamed to speak.

He continued but I could swear his touch lingered a little longer this time. When he finally withdrew his fingers I let out a shaky breath.

He removed his gloves and stepped back, giving me privacy to sit up.

“Physically everything still looks normal,” he said, sitting at his desk. “But I suspect this could be related to pelvic floor tension. I would like to run a blood work and schedule an ultrasound.”

I nodded, barely processing his words.

As I was about to leave, he stood up.

“Mel,” using my first name again. “If the pain gets worse or you need anything before the next appointment, don't hesitate to call the office or you can reach me directly if it's urgent.”

He wrote his personal number on the back of his card and handed it to me

Our fingers brushed when I took it.

The contact was brief but it sent a spark up my arm.

“Thank you.” I whispered.

I left the office with my heart racing and my panties damp.

The pain came again, that night I lay in bed my vibrator working its way up my clit as I stared at the number saved in my phone. I masturbated to the thought of him handling me himself and just before I could cum the vibrator died.

I flinged it to the other end of the bed, I stared at the number on my phone and told myself it was just for medical emergencies.