Caty sat nervously on the edge of the waiting room chair, subconsciously flexing her feet, echoing the choreography of the dance class she'd just left. She didn't want to be there — god, how she didn't want to be there — but the college was quite specific about ordering a physical, and the deadline was rapidly approaching. If she didn't do it in the next few weeks, they'd rescind her offer of admission, and she clutched the certification form tightly. The last thing she needed was to lose it after all this trouble.
Everyone said Dr. Richards was the best, so she wasn't surprised when she called his office and he didn't have any appointments. After begging and pleading with the receptionist, she got the doctor to agree to a late afternoon appointment.
The receptionist checked her in with a disarming smile, giving her a clipboard to fill out and retreating behind her desk after Caty turned down her offer of water. With butterflies in her stomach, she went over the form. Usual doctor's office stuff — name, age, medical history. She felt a little giddy as she put down her birthday, since she'd just turned 18.
It wasn't until she got to the third page that the questions got a little weird, but she guessed that for an advanced physical, maybe he needed to know about her level of sexual activity. She felt so pathetic writing 'none' and 'never' in almost every field, but you don't get into a competitive school by letting yourself get distracted with relationships.
She passed the form over to the receptionist, who glanced at it before putting it in a tray for doctor.
"He'll be out in just a minute," she said, and Caty jiggled her feet anxiously, looking at the clock.
Five minutes before her appointment was supposed to start, a tall, stunning redhead opened the door to the exam room, showing the patient before her out. She was petite, with a giant Afro in a cloud around her head, and she smiled and nodded at the receptionist.
"Same time next month?"
"Yeah," she said, as the nurse picked up Caty's clipboard and read out her name. Caty wondered what the woman had that might require her to come back every month, but she shrugged. Not her business, she guessed.
"So, a dancer, huh?"
"Yeah, mostly jazz, some modern."
"Well, you're in great shape," the nurse said. "Dr. Richards will love that."
She opened the door to the exam room, which was more like a little suite, with a desk and a couch, the exam table set off to one side. Low cabinets must have held the doctor's instruments, but the room felt intimate and warm, not like the other doctor's offices she'd been to.
"If you want to slip behind the screen and undress, there's a shelf there for your clothes," the nurse said. "The doctor likes his patients to shower before their exams, so I'll help you with that when you're ready."
This was getting weirder and weirder by the minute. But all of Caty's friends said he was great, so she figured it must have something to do with the exam. She slipped off her clothes, and admitted to herself that she might be a little sweaty from rehearsal — maybe not such a bad thing to take a shower before seeing the doctor, since he'd be up close with her naked body.
She took the soft robe the nurse had left hanging behind the screen and stepped out, feeling a little shy.
"Great," the nurse said. "Just follow me."
She pulled Caty back out into the hall, which she wasn't expecting. The office was dead quiet, since it was the end of the day, but what if he shared the practice with someone else and another doctor, or worse, another patient, saw her? She pulled the robe more tightly around herself and followed the nurse into a luxurious bathroom with a huge shower stall.
The nurse turned the faucet, double-checking the temperature and adjusting the dual showerheads so they'd be the right height for her. Caty stood awkwardly, waiting for the nurse to leave after she'd bustled around setting out towels, but instead she just stood there.
"Go ahead," she said. "The doctor prefers that I help the patients to make sure they get clean from top to bottom."
Well, it was just like sharing the dressing room with a bunch of girls, so Caty let the robe slide to the floor and stepped into the shower. The water was the perfect temperature, hot but not too hot, and it beat down on her shoulders like a steady massage. She almost groaned as she reached for the soap, remembering that she hadn't stretched all the way out after rehearsal because she didn't want to be late.
She heard the nurse moving around the room, but she quickly forgot all about her as she lathered up — the soap smelled faintly like lavender, and felt smooth on her skin, not like scratchy doctor's office soap.
Caty was startled when she felt hands gently push her head forward into the water, wetting her hair, and she jerked back with surprise.
"It's okay," the nurse murmured, "I just thought you might need a little help."
Okay, this was getting seriously weird. But Caty found it kind of nice to just stand there in the warm water, letting the nurse wash her hair. She was gentle, but thorough, and she massaged Caty's scalp as she went, making her feel more and more relaxed. After she rinsed the conditioner through and detangled Caty's hair, she moved her hands down, gently rubbing Caty's temples before she picked up the soap and washed her back. Her fingers were competent and firm, giving Caty a hint of a massage, and Caty leaned into her, forgetting the moment and just enjoying herself.
After the nurse finished with her back, Caty figured they'd be done, but instead, she reached around, carefully soaping the front of Caty's torso, gently skimming her breasts as she went. Caty jerked when the nurse's finger brushed her nipple, embarrassed when it hardened instantly, prickling in the warm water.
"It's fine," the nurse breathed into her ear, as she gently massaged Caty's breasts, moving circularly closer and closer towards her nipples before she started gently rubbing them. Caty felt a tingling that spread across her body, and the nurse started rolling her nipples and gently tugging them, making them harder and harder. They were almost unbearably sensitive, and Caty was shocked when she moaned a little, making the nurse back off a little, moving her hands lightly again, teasing around her nipples and breasts.
Caty felt flushed, and the heat moved down her body to her groin. She'd never felt anything like the tiny little electric shocks that moved across her body, and before she knew what was happening, the nurse had left one hand fondling her breast, and moved the other down, down, down, delicately running it through her untrimmed hair and slipping a finger in and out of her lips.
Caty knew that she should stop this, but it felt too good. She made another little moaning noise, and the nurse must have taken it as encouragement, because she began gently circling Caty's clit with her finger, alternating between tapping it and gently brushing it and finding a sweet rhythm that made Caty's whole body tighten up. The nurse brought her finger along Caty's inner lips, and Caty groaned again, but after teasing at the edge for a moment, the nurse returned to working her clit.
She was embarrassed by the breathy, short noises she was making but she couldn't stop, and the nurse seemed amused.
"You weren't lying on your form," she said. "Dr. Richards will be happy."
