Impromptu

Marguerite took a business trip to Paris but forgot her allergy medicine, so her company made an appointment with a local clinic for her to get an emergency refill. Stephen—another American who had been working abroad for several years—accompanied her so she didn't get lost. The clinic was only a few blocks away from the office, so they walked there together.

It was a small clinic on the third floor of an older building. There was only one physician on duty at the time, a smartly-dressed middle-aged woman named Dr. de Longpré. She wore a white lab coat over a Chanel suit, and her long black hair hung in a thick braid down her back. Marguerite liked her immediately, but it quickly became clear that Dr. de Longpré's English was worse that Marguerite's French. The doctor exchanged a few quick words with Stephen, whose French was impeccable.

"She asks if your husband could serve as an interpreter," he said, smiling.

"My husband? Oh! She thinks you and I ...?"

"Are married, yes. I don't mind. It will probably be easier than trying to find another clinic."

Marguerite laughed. "Okay. You can be my husband for twenty minutes."

The doctor showed them both into an examination room. Using Stephen to translate, she explained that there wouldn't be any problem giving Marguerite an emergency prescription, but she would need to perform a basic exam first, just to make sure she didn't have any medical issues that would interfere with the medication.

Dr. de Longpré began by taking down some medical history—Marguerite's age, whether she smoked or not, whether she'd ever had any serious illnesses, and so on. She wrote everything down neatly on a chart with a slim gold fountain pen. Then she checked Marguerite's pupils, looked inside her ears, made her stick out her tongue and say "ahh". Marguerite felt rather foolish doing such things with Stephen in the examination room. Before now all their interactions had been strictly professional, and it was odd to have him standing there while she was poked and prodded.

Suddenly, the doctor said something that made Stephen's eyes widen. He questioned her in quick, nervous tones, and she repeated what she had said before, more emphatically this time.

"What is it?" Marguerite said. "Is there something wrong?"

Stephen gave her a sheepish look. "The doctor ... well ... the doctor asks if you would please disrobe for the rest of the examination."

"I need to get undressed for allergy pills?"

"She says that she's required by law to perform a full physical before prescribing any medication. It's out of her hands."

"This is ludicrous!"

"If you want, we can try to find another clinic ...."

"No. They'll probably say the same thing. Let's just get this over with."

"I'll wait in the waiting room."

"No, stay. She might need to ask me something. Just don't look, okay?"

"Okay."

Stephen turned away and averted his eyes. Marguerite stood up and began taking off her clothes. She was wearing a stylish gray business suit, black stockings, and patent leather pumps. As she shed each piece of apparel, she folded it neatly and placed in a tidy pile on the exam table. She stepped out of her heels and set them carefully off to one side, then rolled down her stockings and added them to the pile. In less than thirty seconds she had stripped down to just her bra and panties. They were black lace, and skimpier than she would have preferred, given the circumstances.

"There," she said. "Can we get on with this?"

The doctor said something in French. All Marguerite could make out was "s'il vous plaît".

"I'm sorry ... what?"

"She asks ... um ... for you to remove your underclothes as well ... if you please." Stephen said, his back still turned.

Marguerite felt her ears start to burn. She had been naked in front of doctors many times before of course, but this was different. Stephen was being a complete gentleman, but he was right there! Nevertheless, she wanted her prescription. Marguerite took a deep breath and unhooked her bra. She slipped it off her shoulders, letting her small breasts swing free. In the cool air of the examination room, her nipples were quite rudely erect. Marguerite folded one arm across her chest, trying to keep herself covered as she awkwardly tugged her underwear down. Her panties dropped around her ankles and she stepped out of them, kicking them off to one side with her bare foot.

Good lord, she was naked! Not thirty minutes before she'd been giving an important presentation to a boardroom full of high-powered executives. Now here she was standing stark naked in a shabby little doctor's office. Mortified, she held one hand over her breasts, and the other over her crotch. The tangled black patch of hair between her legs was impossible to completely hide though. Marguerite loathed using a razor on the delicate skin near her sex, and as a result her pubic hair was quite lush and thick. Her generous bush poked tantalizingly out between her fingers, adding a raw sexual edge to her nudity.

Dr. de Longpré spoke again, gesturing to the scale. Stephen translated, still keeping his eyes averted. "She wants to weigh you. She says to keep your hands at your sides, please, and hold still."

Marguerite walked over the scale and stepped on. Nervously, she dropped her hands down to her sides, leaving herself fully uncovered. She glanced at Stephen, mortified that he might turn his head and peek. If he looked right now, he would see everything. Marguerite was so used to hiding her sexuality at work that to suddenly find herself so crudely on display sent a shiver down her naked spine. Her sense of embarrassment was magnified by the fact that Stephen himself was so impeccably dressed. His suit was a beautiful wool pinstripe. His green silk tie was elegantly knotted, and his white shirt was perfectly pressed. Seeing him standing there in his crisp professional clothes only made her own nakedness seem more shameful and debauched.

What if he did look? Would he be attracted to her? Would it arouse him sexually? Would it make him hard? Marguerite felt a perverse frisson at the idea. She realized with horror that there was a part of her that wanted him to look. She had never considered herself an exhibitionist and had always been very modest in her dress and actions, but there was something about her current predicament that triggered something primal. A shameful quiver of anticipation cut through her embarrassment. She realized she actually wanted Stephen to look at her and be aroused by her. She wanted to feel that rush of feminine power, to bask in the warmth of his masculine desire

Marguerite shifted uncomfortably on the scale, appalled at the direction her thoughts had taken.

And then, my God, she actually saw him do it! She saw Stephen flick his eyes slightly to the right and then back again. There was no mistaking it. He had stolen a look. He'd seen her there on the scale, fully naked, with her nipples standing up erect and her hairy crotch in full view. Marguerite's cheeks flushed bright red and she felt a prickling over her body as though she were about to break out in a sweat—little pin pricks all across her bare back, and down the backs of her legs, and under her arms.

Dr. de Longpré lowered the bar on the scale to measure her height. As she did, Stephen glanced at her again. This time he held his gaze longer. His eyes lingered on the arch of her spine, her outthrust breasts, the perfect line of her slender neck. Marguerite could tell he was savoring every detail. She struggled to hold still. The urge to cover herself with her hands was very strong. But she couldn't—not without interfering with the doctor's measurements. Stephen's eyes wandered slowly downwards, taking in her flat tummy, her perky bottom, her slender thighs.

How dare he look! How dare he take advantage of her like this! He'd said he wouldn't, but he'd gone back on his word. So typical of a man! Her anger flared hot and bright. If they'd been alone, she would have slapped his face. She would have made him get down on his knees and beg her for forgiveness.

But his gaze had also stirred something wanton inside her. She felt a familiar warm tingle centered in the bowl of her pelvis. It radiated outward, waves of warmth spreading through body, rippling out to the points of her nipples and the tips of her fingers and the roots of her hair. Marguerite realized to her horror that she was becoming aroused. Her insides felt like molten caramel, all warm and drippy and sticky. The knowledge that Stephen was looking at her naked body was making her wet. She shifted her legs again, appalled at the sudden slickness between her thighs. A wave of shame washed over her, snuffing out her anger.

The doctor noted her height on her chart, and gestured toward the exam table. Red-faced, Marguerite scurried over to it and hopped up. Dr. de Longpré handed her a drape to cover herself with. It wasn't a proper gown, just a rectangle of light cotton about the size of a small towel. Marguerite had to clutch it to her chest to keep it from falling down. It was enough to cover her front, but just barely. The entire side of her body was exposed, her pale skin in full view where the skimpy cloth ended.

Dr. de Longpré spoke to her again and Stephen translated. "She ... uh ... asks for you to lower the drape while she listens to your heart."

Haltingly, Marguerite lowered the cloth so it covered only her lap. Her breasts were completely bare. Stephen had turned toward her. He wasn't even trying to pretend he wasn't looking anymore. Their eyes met briefly, a strange shared moment. She felt deeply embarrassed.

The doctor leaned in close and Marguerite jumped as the cold metal of the stethoscope touched her chest. Her nipples were very hard, two brown nubs standing straight up, each one as thick as the tip of her pinky. They were so sensitive when they were erect. She loved having them sucked during sex. Was it possible that Stephen was thinking about that very thing right now? Was he imagining taking her hard nipple into his mouth and teasing it with the tip of his tongue? Was he imagining sucking her nipples while he fucked her? Marguerite wanted very much to play with her nipples. She wished she could reach up and fondle them while the doctor listened to her heart. It was all she could do to keep her hands folded primly in her lap.

The doctor finished listening to her chest. Next, she pressed her stethoscope to Marguerite's back and told her to take deep breaths. Even though Marguerite could cover up again, she didn't. What was the point in trying to be modest now? Marguerite glanced down at Stephen's crotch and saw that he was fully erect. The hard line of his swollen cock was straining against the gray wool of his trousers. He was long and thick, seven inches at least.

She felt a fresh gush of wetness between her legs and squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. My God, she wanted him! She wanted to hold his thick hard cock in her hand and feel it throb with each beat of his heart. She wanted to feel the heavy weight of it pressed against her belly. She wanted to feel it split her open and fill her up. How could this be happening? She barely knew him. How could she suddenly want him so badly?

Dr. de Longpré slipped her stethoscope in the pocket of her lab coat and shifted to the other side of the exam table. She pressed two fingers against Marguerite's abdomen, gently palpating. The drape was in the way, so she pulled it a little lower, low enough that the top edge of Marguerite's pubic hair was visible. Marguerite wished that she had trimmed her bush this morning. She wished that it was a tidy, pretty little wedge, instead of a thick, unruly tangle. But how could she have anticipated this? How could she have known that Stephen would see her naked?

The final step of the exam was the blood pressure test. The doctor wrapped the black cuff around Marguerite's upper arm and pumped it until it was tight. Stephen was watching closely now, taking in everything. Marguerite could tell that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him. Their eyes met again, but this time neither of them looked away. Marguerite felt her breath quicken. She pulled her shoulders back slightly, pushing her breasts out. These are yours if you want them. My pussy is yours if you want it. All of me is yours if you want it.

She was so wet. She was so ready for him.

The doctor unwrapped the cuff from Marguerite's arm. She was done. She pulled off her latex gloves and tossed them in a bin by the door. She spoke again and Stephen translated.

"She says that you're a lovely and healthy young woman. She apologizes for putting you through a complete physical. She'll leave your prescription at the front desk for you to pick up when you leave. Please take all the time you need to get dressed."

And then she was gone. Marguerite and Stephen were alone.

What does one say at a moment like this? Not more than twenty minutes had passed since they entered the examination room, but it felt like a lifetime. Marguerite licked her lips. Stephen took a step forward and touched the cotton drape. There was a question in his eyes. Marguerite nodded. Slowly he pulled the fabric away, letting it drop to the floor.

He could see all of her now. Her naked body was on full display. She held very still, letting him drink her in, not trying to hide anything from him. His hands touched her pale thighs. She drew her breath in sharply. That was the first time he had touched her. His hands touched her pale thighs and pushed them gently open. Marguerite didn't try to resist. She let him open her thighs. She lifted her knees so her heels rested on the edge of the exam table and let him open her thighs all the way, so even her most intimate place was revealed to him. She wanted him to see all of her.

Marguerite had a voluptuous sex. Her full dark lips curled in extravagant, baroque folds. When she was aroused, as she was now, they parted of their own accord to reveal the wet pink inside. Stephen brushed his fingers across her swollen lips and Marguerite shivered with pleasure. He found her clit where it was peeping from beneath its hood and stroked it until her breathing turned ragged. She could smell her own arousal and she knew he must be able to smell it too, feral and earthy and musky.

"Tell me what you want," he said.

"I want your cock," she said. "I want you inside me."

He was still fully dressed in his immaculate gray suit, but he unzipped his fly and pulled himself out. His cock was beautiful—thick and long and heavy and dark. He was uncut, and his foreskin was pulled back to reveal the shiny pink head. A thin trickle of precum flowed from the tip. Marguerite took him in her hand and guided him to her pussy. She rubbed the head between her open lips, marking him with her scent. His hands were on her breasts, touching them, fondling them. His thumbs found her hard nipples and she gasped with pleasure.

She knew they didn't have have long. The doctor had said she could take her time getting dressed, but there were limits. Eventually Dr. de Longpré would get suspicious and come to check on them. Marguerite urged Stephen on, urged him to penetrate her. He eased his hips forward, going slow, opening her up. She was so wet. Her insides were like silk, slick and slippery, hot and tight.

She looked up at him, looked up at this man she barely knew, looked up at the man who was fucking her. Their eyes met. There was nothing to say. His face was serious, as was hers. This was not playful sex. They both wanted each other too much. The desire was too strong.

His hands shifted to her hips, shifted down to hold the wings of her pelvis, to hold her in place as he took her. His hands were so warm and strong. He held her in place at the edge of the exam table as he started to thrust. Marguerite moaned. He was so big. He was so big and he was so deep inside her, and he was thrusting his hips. The whole glorious length of him was riding in and out of her slippery hole.

"Yes," she said. "Oh God, yes."

Marguerite looked down. She looked down between her spread legs to where the two of them were joined together. She could see him going in and out of her, his dark shaft glistening with her juices. The paleness of her naked skin made a stark contrast with the gray wool of his suit. She slid her hand down through the messy black tangle of her bush. She slid her hand down and found the hard nub of her clit and rubbed it as he fucked her. She rubbed her hard little clit as his big hard cock slid in and out of her sopping wet cunt.

His breathing was ragged. Marguerite could tell he was getting close. She was getting close too.

"Don't ... don't cum inside me. Okay?"

"Are you ... are you not ...?"

She shook her head. No, no she wasn't.

"We should be safe. It's the wrong time. But still don't, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

His rhythm increased. He was thrusting hard now, using long strokes, going deep. She wrapped her legs around him, trapping him inside her. She was making little "uh uh uh" noises. She couldn't help herself. Her back was arched and she threw her head back. Her hair had come undone and spilled in loose, dark coils over her bare shoulders. She could feel her orgasm building, feel the wave rising. She was going to cum. She was going to cum with Stephen's cock deep inside her throbbing pussy.

"Oh God," Marguerite said. "Oh God, oh God, oh God ...."

She came. She came so hard, jerking and moaning on the exam table. Her whole body went rigid, and a long guttural whimper escaped her lips. She was cumming and cumming and cumming, and the sight of her pushed him over the edge and he was cumming too. He pulled out at the last possible moment, rubbing his throbbing shaft on her hairy mound, shooting a thick ropy stream of cum all over her belly. He was pumping and pumping, emptying himself onto her. The was so much cum. The whole front of her was slicked with it. it covered Marguerite's bush. It pooled in the declivity of her belly button, and trickled down her trembling flanks onto the paper cover of the exam table.

"Oh God," Stephen said. "That was ... that was ...."

"Sublime," Marguerite said.

There were three sharp raps on the door of the examination room. Before either of them could respond, Dr. de Longpré poked her head in. Her eyes went wide as she took in the scene: Marguerite splayed naked on the exam table, coved in cum, Stephen standing over her, his thick cock still shiny from being inside her. The doctor exclaimed something in French and shut the door as quickly as she had opened it.

Stephan laughed. "She says she's very sorry to disturb us."

Marguerite gingerly touched two fingers to her belly. They came away sticky.

"My God, you made a mess of me."

He brought her paper towels and Marguerite climbed off the exam table to clean up. Stephen had put his cock back in his trousers. It was very strange to stand there completely naked in front of him, to have him watch as she wiped his cum off her body. She would have to get dressed soon. They needed to get back to the office for their afternoon meeting.

But there was still time for one more thing. Once she was clean, Marguerite padded over to him. Without her heels, she was significantly shorter than he was, barely coming up to his chin. She touched his chest and he took her in his arms. The wool of his suit felt scratchy on her bare skin. She looked up and him, and he looked down at her. It was very strange to be held by a man she barely knew. It was very strange to be wearing nothing at all while he was fully dressed. Very strange, but also very nice.

Marguerite rose up on her toes, and she kissed him.