As a future surgeon I wasn't terribly excited about starting my psychiatry rotation. Talking to crazies and listening to depressed patients go on about their feelings wasn't my idea of fun. It turned out, however, to be much more interesting than I thought.
The first day of the rotation I arrived to meet the other two students who I'd be working with for the next six weeks. Chrissy was a cute, curvaceous spitfire with piercing blue eyes and a quick whit. I had a feeling we'd get along. The other student, John, was already somewhat familiar to me. He was in my med school class which means I had seen him around during lecture for the first two years of school. Since our class was so big though, we never really got to know each other. I guess you could say he was an average looking guy; about six foot tall, short brown hair, medium build with broad shoulders. He was a friendly guy with an easy smile and a bit of mischief behind his eyes.
As the first week passed, Chrissy, John and I got to know each other better. We were on the consult service which wasn't very busy so we had a ton of time to sit in our workroom and hang out. Chrissy and I bonded over shoes and playfully making fun of John. He always took it really well and, in fact, seemed to enjoy it for the most part. Our group dynamic formed around this and we really hit our stride in the second week. We started getting more daring and intimate with our conversations. Sex came up frequently and was definitely a favorite topic. I couldn't help but notice that John spent the better portion of our conversations paying a bit more attention to me than Chrissy. I think Chrissy noticed it too.
As the second week neared its end Chrissy suggested we all go out and get a drink together that weekend. We readily agreed and met up at a local bar that Friday after work. We started off with our usual topic of conversation, picking on John. We ran through his wardrobe, explaining to him exactly what he needed to change. More blues to bring out his eyes, a pair of nice dress shoes, and a replacement belt for his badly worn favorite. The drinks kept coming and our tongues began to loosen a bit more. A couple rounds later and we couldn't help but veer back to the topic of sex.
We started off talking about physical traits we were attracted to. I mentioned how I was a sucker for a five-o'clock shadow, knowing full well that it would peak John's interest as he sports one daily. He gave me an understanding grin.
"You like this?" he said as he ran his hand across his jaw line.
"I think it suits you. Much better than the beard you showcased back in our lecture days."
"I'll be sure to keep it then."
Sitting next to us, Chrissy had been shrewdly watching our interaction. There's no doubt she noticed the steady eye contact we were keeping and she was probably sharp enough to pick up on the subtle flush that had come over me. She pushed the conversation onward, commenting that she too was a big fan of the five-o'clock shadow. It didn't get the effect she was hoping for because John chose that moment to comment about how hot the girl was at the table next to us.
The conversation went on kind of like that for the next few minutes until we found ourselves somehow talking about vibrators. This really piqued John's curiosity. He squirmed a little in his chair as I described how my recent acquisition had changed my sex life. Chrissy countered, insisting that hers was better so we listed off the pros and cons of each. I had to admit hers sounded nice. As we were talking John grabbed a piece of paper from his bag and began to take notes. When he finished taking down the names and styles of each of our vibrators he made a joke about how he was vastly superior to any vibrator when it came to pleasing a woman. Of course Chrissy and I couldn't let this go so we asked him to be more specific. Did he have a vibrating tongue or something? To my surprise, rather than laughing off my jibe he responded by sketching out the female form on his note paper while explaining how he brings a woman to climax.
"I start off far from the clit. You have to build up to it." His pen pointed to the drawing's thighs. "I use a gentle blowing technique along the inside of the legs to get things warmed up. Then, when she's ready, I move up to the labia and make long upward and downward stokes."
My legs involuntarily opened a little wider as I felt blood rushing to the sites John was describing. The thought of his full lips lightly blowing warm air up my thighs was intoxicating. I've always had a weak spot for head and here was a guy illustrating exactly how to do it right.
"So what do you do when you finally go for the target?" I asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. I was trying to act like a smartass so Chrissy wouldn't know what was running through my head.
John ran his pen up and down the small circle that was meant to depict the clitoris. He did so in small rapids bursts to indicate his rhythm. I grabbed his pen.
"I prefer this." I made small tight circles slowly around the clit until there was a dark ring of ink saturating the paper. John looked at the paper seriously for a few seconds then quietly folded the paper in two and slid it in his pocket. Chrissy made a joke about it but I excused myself from the table and headed for the restroom. I was so hot from our interaction I needed to get away before I made a complete fool of myself by attacking him right there in the bar.
I took a few minutes, splashed water on my face to cool down, and paced back and forth in the cramped bathroom. What was wrong with me? Just a couple weeks ago John was some average-looking guy that I had passed in the halls without notice a hundred times. Now I saw his lips and wondered what they'd be like pressed against mine, or even better, against my legs, my breasts, my clit.
As I sat back down at the table Chrissy squinted her eyes at me. She was very good at communicating with her eyes and this time they said, "What the hell was that?" I shrugged it off, leaving her silently seething. It was obvious that Chrissy liked John too but since she was the single one and I was not, he should have been hers according to girl code.
***
A couple more weeks went by and John, Chrissy, and I found ourselves now on the locked psychiatry unit for the acutely and dangerously insane. We spent most of our time interviewing patients in a closet-sized room, then writing up our notes in an only slightly bigger work room. The intimacy of our enclosure wasn't lost on me and it made it difficult to stay focused on my work.
Since the night in the bar, my flirtations with John grew more blatant and frequent. John had this way of making eye contact that he held for an awkwardly long time. Most people glanced away after a couple seconds so things wouldn't get weird. I had taken it as a personal challenge when I first met him to hold it as long as he did, but as we got closer it became a flirtation of its own. We were each willing the other to admit our not-so-secret desires. It was sexy, exciting, and playful at the same time. Not to mention dangerous, as Chrissy was quick to call us out on it in front of anyone who might be nearby.
One morning in the interview room I found myself sitting across from John. Our attending, a resident, Chrissy, and a patient were also in the tiny room and we were supposed to be listening to the interview. My concentration had been waning all week though, and I couldn't keep from drifting off into daydreams. A quick glance at John revealed that he was staring at my stiletto heels. I was wearing a knee length black wrap dress that day with fire-engine-red four inch heels that he had commented on earlier in our rotation together. Under the dress was a black lacey garter holding up sheer nude stockings. I used the fact that psychiatry required so little physical work as an excuse to dress up on a daily basis. I always made sure to look professional but I liked to add a little extra sex appeal underneath for my own satisfaction. Besides the garter and stockings I had a tiny black g-string and a sleek matching bra that had a bad habit of peaking out from under my dress when I bent forward.
I glanced around the room, making sure that everyone else was paying attention to the patient as he spoke excitedly about how his cat had caused all his problems. When I was satisfied that my display would be for John's eyes only, I casually uncrossed my legs letting the slit of my wrap dress ride up my thigh exposing the strap of my garter belt. As quickly as it had happened, I re-crossed my legs in the opposite direction and readjusted my dress. Out of my peripheral vision I could tell that my maneuvers weren't lost on him. His head shot up my legs, then to my face. He was checking to see if I had caught his voyeurism and once satisfied that I had been paying attention to the patient he let his eyes wander back down my figure.
My bit of exhibitionism had worked and my pay off was the thrill of knowing I could probably make him hard anytime I wanted. I caught his eye and smiled delicately. He smiled back and held my gaze while the sound of the patient's voice drifted off in my mind.
A daydream had taken over again and I found myself alone in the room with John standing across from me with the same knowing smile he had flashed me at the bar. He stepped toward me and softly pressed his body to mine, backing me against the cement wall. With one hand steadying myself on the wall and the other holding on to his muscular arm I let myself melt into his body. Never breaking his gaze he ran his left hand down the small of my back. It slowly traced over the curve of my ass. As he continued down he lifted my leg up allowing the slit of my dress to widen, exposing the entirety of my stocking-clad thigh. He let his hand roam all the way to my knee before reversing direction, traveling back down to my ass, this time below the thin fabric of my dress. My heart was beating wildly as he outlined the rim of my stocking. The anticipation of his next move made me lightheaded and I held my breath. I pleaded with my eyes for him to continue with his exploration. I wanted him to rip open my dress and ravage me up against the wall.
