The end of the day and another doctor's office and here I am, waiting for the arrival of another doctor. A monumentally stacked receptionist who I normally would have paid more attention to had ushered me in. But having been referred by my dermatologist, Dr. Laurent, who in turn had been referred by my primary care physician, Dr. Park, I was sure that Dr. Adams, whomever she was, would be another sexpot, just like Dr. Park and Dr. Laurent. It was obvious that as long as Dr. Park was my primary care physician, I would never encounter a male doctor again.
And so I sat, reclining on a couch (not really a couch -- what do they call those things -- a chaise lounge) for I was in a psychiatrist's office. Dr. Laurent had suggested I see a psychiatrist for, "...certain feminine proclivities." I didn't really think that was fair. Yes, I was incredibly turned on by gorgeous women in charge taking advantage of me but who wouldn't be? I hadn't gotten to actually fuck either Dr. Park or Dr. Laurent though I'd jacked off often enough thinking about it, but I'd take what I could get. I realize maybe not every guy would submit to what I'd taken but an orgasm is an orgasm, and one provided by a beautiful woman was infinitely better than my right hand.
These thoughts were going through my head as the door opened revealing Dr. Adams, just what the doctor ordered. She wasn't as stacked on top as Dr. Park and Dr. Laurent, but she had enough from what I could see under her tightly buttoned blouse. What she was was tall, with legs for miles and an ass to die for, sheathed in a pencil skirt and sheer hose and heels. Yes another stunner, studying me as she peered over small wire frame glasses as she sat down in an Aeron chair before me, holding a clipboard in her lap.
"I'm Dr. Adams and I appreciate your coming to see me," she said in a low smooth seductive voice. "I hope that I can be of help to you."
Looking at her I knew that of course she could and once again, I was putty in the doctor's hands. "I'm not really sure how to start." I began hesitantly, distracted by the swish of her stockings as she crossed her legs. Were those hold ups or was there a garter belt? "I've never seen a psychiatrist before and don't think I really need one. I get along fine with my parents, I'm happy in my work and with my friends. I don't really have any complaints."
"Well that's all good, I'm glad to hear it," she continued. "I will say I notice no mention of a relationship. Perhaps that explains the..." she glanced at her clipboard, "feminine proclivities' Dr. Laurent mentioned to me in her referral?" she said looking up.
"Um, it's true, I don't have a girlfriend at the moment but..."
"So it is a girlfriend?" she cut me off. "Not a boyfriend?" she said studying me.
"What? No, not a boyfriend."
She chuckled. "I didn't really think so. But I have to ask of course."
"Just dotting i's and crossing t's?"
She laughed again as she made a check on the paperwork on her clipboard. "You've spent too much time studying my legs for me to think you're gay." I blushed. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."
I mumbled, embarrassed, "I couldn't help myself."
She smiled but shook her head; "I mean there's nothing wrong with being gay if that's what gives you pleasure. I'm sure you agree?"
"Um, sure, sure. I'm not gonna judge someone else for what they're into."
"Yes, exactly my point! Who are we to judge as long as no one is being hurt? Or underage, or nonconsensual, of course." She leaned forward as she spoke and now the buttons so tantalizingly unbuttoned on her blouse distracted me. My eyes shifted upwards and downward as she smiled, busted again. "But what about you, yes?" she asked. "How does this apply to you?"
"Um, yeah. I'm still not sure why I'm here..." I mumbled.
She shifted her chair closer and leaned in further. "You have a fetish," she stated.
"Uh, I don't know about that."
"Come, come," she went on. "I'm a psychiatrist and I think I know my job, don't you?"
"Well yeah, I wasn't questioning your ability or anything..."
"Do you know the clinical definition of the word, fetish?"
"No, no. I guess not. Something you're fixated on or something."
"Yes indeed. Something you fixate on. " She leaned forward and stuck her left leg out, running her hands up her leg as my eyes following her hands upwards. "Men, fixate on legs." she said. "Or...breasts" she continued, cupping her breasts through her blouse. "This is quite normal in the average male. Any women with an ounce of intelligence can use this to her advantage." she smiled.
God she was beautiful and she was right. She made it seem effortless as my breath shortened and I felt my cock shifting in my khakis. "Uhh..." I didn't know what to say.
