Just a few weeks after the whole mess began with Bert and Mic (see Rita Explores, two parts) I had an annual routine dermatological exam I had scheduled weeks before. Living in Florida, and with as much time as we spent out in the sun, I didn't want any problems with skin cancers. Heaven knows, that was pretty routine for me to find on many people in my own practice.
While I was mortified by the situation with my husband's new 'business partners,' I'd also been very turned on by being seen by other men. I had felt honestly quite thrilled to be seen as a desirable woman, one who could elicit carnal thoughts -- and physical manifestations -- in men other than my husband. Those feelings were and are perhaps petty and self-centered but it was nonetheless deeply erotic and empowering. Tony was at this time unaware of the investigation involving Bert and Mic and the circumstances which were inducing Kim and I to agree to be hostesses at the upcoming trade show in Atlanta. But he was effusive in his praise of me for having entertained our guests so well and pulling off my first Pizza Dare. He could not stop telling me how happy he was with my exploration of this new side of my sexuality. His happiness was my happiness.
You might think, under the circumstances, showing myself to anyone other than Tony at that time would be the furthest thing from my mind. In fact, I felt I had to do it not only because of the deep cravings I felt, the excitement it engendered in my core, and how inspiring it was as a woman to be able to do this but because I knew I would soon find myself exposed whether I wanted it or not. I'd been briefed that hostesses at the trade events wore skimpy outfits, think Hooters girl, and that by the end of the evening it would likely be even less. I knew Kim would have no problem with that, but if I were to successfully help in the investigation, I had to be able to at the least make it into the outfit and not freak out. Plus, I wanted to feel the thrill again.
The hostess issue was not even on my radar when I made the appointment however. All I knew was that having had a guy look down my blouse and see my bare chest had excited me more than I imagined. In the weeks after that I had been constantly envisioning scenarios with myself being seen in various states of undress, though I didn't talk with Tony or anyone about this. Tony had a tendency to get hung up on an idea or like, and I already knew he wanted me to expose myself but I was still exploring my own feelings and didn't need the nagging. You can still love a person and not like them for nagging.
I'd rather impetuously decided that my annual skin exam would be a trial balloon on whether I could do this. So, instead of seeing my usual dermatologist, another female practitioner near our home, I choose a male practitioner across town -- and registered as a new patient with a fake name. Juvenile, I know, but I didn't know if I could even do this and if I did, I certainly didn't want the doctor to know who I was and perhaps discover my name in a specialty listing. I couldn't go to the practice where I worked; the three other practitioners were all guys that I worked with everyday!
Even after the whole bathing suit/ pizza dare thing, and perhaps because of it, I was unsure. That had been at home. Tony was there. Both those things made it safe (if I had only known!!), this would be on my own. I was quite rattled by what had transpired with Tony's clients, the corruption of an intimate repatee between husband and wife, yet still felt a curious energy from my actual boldness. So I'd blocked a couple hours off of work for the drive and exam. I would then have time to unwind before heading home afterwards, time to assess my emotions and get ready to share with Tony this adventure, however it turned out. I hated what had come from entertaining Tony and Bobby's clients, but if I were honest with myself, I had been quite turned on too. I had wanted Tony happy, and I had very truly loved the way it made me feel! I had to see if I could do this on my own.
The premise was simple. My breasts are not big, just a B cup, and my areola are only about the size of a quarter with my over-achieving nipples taking up half of that and nicely centered in them. I say over-achieving as, when I am excited -- and that happens very, very easily -, they stand out about a half inch. Tony loves that they are also very sensitive, as am I. They appear huge, but it is truly an issue of perspective. On the medial aspect of my left breast on the edge of my areola is a black mole. I know it is just a mole, but I was going to ask this physician to examine it as I was 'concerned.' Normally I am in a bra and panties for my annual exam, so this small mole isn't even seen by regular dermatologist. I wanted to see if I could really have a man, other than Tony, look at my breasts and me knowingly show them to him, - and how I would feel.
The morning of my scheduled exam I was a bundle of nerves, whether it was excitement or worry I was not sure. Just a couple of weeks earlier, completely unforeseen when I made this appointment, I had been in front of three strangers is a sheer bathing suit and had let them gawk. Tony had been so pleased with me, and I with myself, until the other shoe dropped from that episode. I talked with myself as I got dressed, wondering why I even was keeping the appointment and asking myself if I was somehow deranged. The truth was, I'd been dreaming about this day for almost a month, and I was not a quitter. I was not going to let the vile actions of two slime-balls decide how Tony and I shared our love-life. I needed to know if I enjoyed this as much as I thought I did, and whether I could expose myself without Tony with me. A down blouse in a grocery store had excited me but was honestly quite harmless.
I had not yet moved from wearing scrubs as the uniform de jour for work, but didn't want to go to the appointment dressed in them. A simple Tee, jeans, and sandals were shoved in a bag so I could change before heading over. I knew the routine; the nursing assistant would greet me, get a short history, and then I would be handed a paper gown and asked to strip to my underwear and cover myself with the gown. The physician, PA, or NP would then come back in with the assistant and the exam would ensue. The doctor would not even see what I had worn to the office, so no big deal there.
My undergarments were important. Those would send a message, frumpy housewife or hot MILF. Tony had introduced me to the term and though I had no intention of ever making love (or just having sex) with anyone but Tony, I hated the idea of being thought of as frumpy. There were times, I suppose in every marriage, when it was just animalistic fucking that I immensely enjoyed -- that was with Tony and still made it love-making. I didn't want to be anyone's MILF but Tony's in actuality, I wanted to be wanted like that - I was pretty sure -, but just wanted, not taken by anyone else.
My intimates had changed in the last few months, to Tony's delight. Gone were just about all on my full coverage and unflattering panties and bras. Tony had bought me things over the last few years, but many of those were more boudoir than everyday. Since our movie nights had started months ago, I had bought other daily wear panties; high cut, thongs, sheer boy shorts, "sexier" things as my wonderful husband described them, tinier, more revealing, and showing much more of me for Tony's eyes. My bras were thinner and smaller too, though I had never sought to enhance my bust with anything padded. I liked my body, it's just I had never considered the need to tease Tony or anyone else. The boudoir stuff way okay, but I hardly had it on for any length of time. My nightwear, as usual, consisted of a large t-shirt and panties at most. More and more I was sleeping in just the t-shirt, or less, to Tony's delight.
I finally settled on a shear bra and a matching tiny thong. Tiny being the operative word, it was a triangle of gauze with some strings attached. I slipped it on and looked at myself in the mirror. I had to laugh; I remember wondering why I bothered. My pubic patch of thick black hair poked out everywhere, the string disappeared between my clean shaven labia separating and emphasizing them as the labia minora dangled free. Tony would love this! I tossed a more demure set of panties on the bed to take with my afternoon outift, slipped on a very sheer demi-bra and pulled on my scrubs. I would be a 'hot momma' at work, though no one would know, and then change before heading to the exam, still provocative but not overly so. I wanted to see if I could take off my bra and have this doctor see my naked chest, not be nude! Another look in the mirror showed me I looked professional in my scrubs and sneakers. No VPL -- I hardly even had panties on! -- and the girls were behaving for now. Five hours from now I'd test myself.
I packed lunch for Mindy, our seven year old, and paid some bills while getting breakfast. Tony and Mindy left as usual so he could drop her at school and I got our little one, Emily, dressed and ready for daycare. Dressing Em is always fun, she has a very definite fashion sense already and doesn't always agree with my choices. This day was one of those, she wasn't happy with the first two things I picked out, but it was also a joy to talk with her and help her decide what to wear. We were out the door exactly a minute later than usual, but traffic was light and I made it to work on time. The morning was steady with a full schedule of patients, which I was grateful for as I didn't have time to overthink my pending appointment.
"That was the last one," Janine said as we exited the exam room. "I'm starving."
"Me too," I said glancing at my watch. "Damnit," I muttered.
"What?" she said as she headed to the breakroom in the back of the office.
"How do we always get behind?" I grumbled to myself out loud. It was already twelve fifteen and my appointment was at one. Forty minutes away!
Janine just shrugged and walked off. I shook my head and followed her, hoping there was a protein drink in the fridge. Fortunately there was and I grabbed it and headed back to my office to change and get going. Now the butterflies began, mostly with anticipation in a good way. The appointment had been in the back of my mind all morning and I was feeling sure I could do this; I could take the paper gown off and stand there in my bra and panties, then take off my bra to have Dr. Wilson look at my naked breast to check out my 'concern.' He'd have already seen most of me by then, just not what was covered by the bra and panties. I was tingling thinking of him looking at me. I caught glimpse of myself in the small mirror I had in my office, a big grin on my face -- but a little flushed. It was excitement.
I closed and locked my office door and stripped off my shoes, socks, and scrubs, then reached into my bag. The girls were misbehaving already and I was damp.
Deep breath, Ree.
I told myself. I rolled off my panties and reached into my bag to get the ones I was going to wear.
Oh, come on. Did they get wrapped in something else?
I dumped the bag on the ground, I didn't have time for this. Jeans, sandals, t-shirt. I shook the bag as I looked inside.
Oh shit! I left them on the bed!!
I looked at the clock, I had just enough time to make it if I was still going to do this. I could feel my heartbeat, hear it pounding in my ears.
I saw myself in the mirror. Thank goodness it was just my face.
You want this. You want to keep this appointment. You want to be seen by this man, this stranger, and you want to tell Tony about it. Get dressed and go.
I recall taking a deep, deep breath and letting it out very slowly. Then I smiled. I slipped the tiny, barely-there panties back on, shifting a bit to try and cover myself as best I could with little success, then pulled on the jeans and tee. I tossed my tennis shoes and scrubs in the bag, slipped on the sandals, grabbed my purse, and headed out.
I had picked Dr. Wilson based on just three criteria. He was a man, a board-certified dermatologist, and I didn't know him. I had spent all of twenty minutes finding him, looking at "dermatologists near me" with a zip code on the far side of town. Two met the criteria, and he looked better than the other guy did. Okay, if I was going to show a guy my tits, I wanted it to be a guy young enough to appreciate it and that I found at least passable. So then, criteria number four, looks. Dr. Wilson was in practice with another doctor, a Dr. Esperanza who also appeared to be about thirty-five to forty by his picture on their website. When I called and set this up I told the scheduler I didn't have a preference. It was just the luck of the draw, Dr. Wilson would be the guy I'd test myself with. It was still a safe environment, a medical office with a nurse's aide in the room, but it wasn't someplace I knew and Tony wouldn't be there.
Traffic wasn't bad at all and I got there at five to one. The office was nice, a big saltwater aquarium on one side, maybe five or six feet long, and a nicely appointed area on the other with reception in the middle. The lighting was not overly bright and the TV wasn't blaring.
"Hi! Jennie Williams, I have a one o'clock with Dr. Wilson," I said after the young woman at the desk slid the window open.
"Ahh..., Oh, okay, here you are," she said looking at her computer screen and not me. "Please fill these out and return them to me when you're done," she said handing me a clipboard. She only made cursory eye contact.
It took about ten minutes to fill out, mostly because I really didn't care about giving much real information.
