Dr Erica Beaumar Surrenders 1

My name is Dr. Erica Beaumar and I would like to share a life-changing experience from two years ago. I am now thirty-seven, a family physician living and practicing in Claremont, CA. I am divorced and a mother of three. I have what one would call a light-hearted, open personality, though I take my responsibilities very seriously and work very hard. From the time I was a young girl I have been considered to be very pretty, aided in adulthood by excellent maternal genes and the required discipline to eat right and exercise. I am long-limbed and have always been athletic, though softly feminine as well. Dancing, piano, and tennis are my passions. In fact, I was a two-time conference tennis champion in college. My dark chestnut hair falls past my shoulders and I normally wear rimless glasses over my hazel-green eyes, complimented by a healthy, gently sun-kissed complexion. Though I dress conservatively, I always choose a trim cut.

And so there I was one Friday in early May, at my clinic after having been run ragged for months. My staff and I had so much going on with our ever growing stable of patients and move to a larger office, that we were all in desperate need of a breather. And so I had planned long in advance to keep that upcoming Monday unscheduled for a three-day weekend. I was giddy with anticipation, hoping for an uneventful Friday before our break. It would be anything but!

It started out on an off note when my intern, Emilie, called in with a bout of nausea. So, it was just my Office Manager and I to hold down the fort. Barbara and I met the challenge head-on! All was going surprisingly well until about 3:15, when she suddenly received a call from home. Her teenage son announced that he had returned from school to find a leak in the kitchen! Water was everywhere! I heard Barb frantically telling Jake to turn off the main valve, and that she would get home as soon as possible.

Just a minor catastrophe! Barb was so upset, but still felt like she should just stay at the office and send a plumber. I assured her the day was almost over, everything would be okay, and urged her to get home to handle the issue. After all, the plumber would stop the leak but wouldn't clean up the mess. Barb agreed, then gave me a run-down of my remaining appointments before calling the plumber and heading out.

Then there was just me! My patients showed up, and I handled the paperwork and completed the appointments without any issues. Everything went very well and I was relieved that there were no administrative hiccups to cause delays. There was one more appointment on the schedule at 5:15, Benjamin Johnson, but he was nowhere to be seen. Normally I wouldn't wait more than ten minutes for a late patient unless they call in, but I really wanted to see this day through. I waited patiently until about 5:40, finally getting ready to throw in the towel and lock up, when I heard somebody come through the door.

I hurried out front to find a young black man of about twenty-five years old standing by the reception desk. I did not know what to expect since he was a new patient, and I was afraid I showed some shock: I have very few black patients and this man had a commanding presence.

"Mm..may I help you?" I stammered.

The man calmly introduced himself as Ben Johnson and offered his hand. I shook it as firmly as I could -- it was the size of a ham. "Yes, of course, Ben, how are you? I'm Dr. Beaumar," I responded.

"I'm fine, ma'am, and I apologize for being late. I had a hectic afternoon, and then there was an accident and some really crazy traffic! I tried calling, but the calls kept dropping," he replied, looking at me a bit confused.

"Isn't that always the way?" I laughed. "No worries at all." He smiled back and thanked me for my patience and understanding. Though tall, broad-shouldered, and rough in the face, Ben was so polite, his voice so powerful though gentle, he put me somewhat at ease.

As we took care of the paperwork I learned that he was actually only twenty years old and a student at one of the local colleges. My undergraduate alma mater, in fact. Ben seemed much more mature than a college kid! We had a comprehensive physical exam scheduled and so I showed him to the examination room. I instructed him to undress down to his underpants and wait for me, handing him a patient's gown if he preferred that to cover up. I still felt some nerves, though as a seasoned professional I felt angry at myself for feeling any unease at all. I excused myself and headed to my office.

There I phoned my mother to let her know that my last appointment was running over and I would be late to pick up the girls -- 6:45 at the earliest and maybe closer to 7:00 or later. My husband was not scheduled to return from an overseas business trip until Tuesday, and so my mother had been watching my four and six-year-old daughters every afternoon.

She told me not to worry -- broken record of Barb and I earlier -- and then suggested the girls stay with her and my dad for the night so that I could take my time and have a night to myself. At first I refused, but it was such a great idea that I easily gave in. A hot bath and movie alone sounded fabulous!

"Mom, you're so wonderful. Thank you!" I agreed.

Mother knew that I was under enormous pressure at work and home, which brought my thoughts to my husband, Dan. He was away on business frequently, often internationally. The pressure on both of us was intense and we had frequent arguments. On top of this I knew he had cheated on me the previous year, though I could not prove it.

Dan is a funny, smart, sophisticated man, but people always ribbed him about "punching above his weight" when they saw him with me. Regardless, I knew how charming he could be and I never underestimated his appeal to women, especially in the environment of fine hotels, dining, beautiful locations, and so forth. He knew how to enjoy those things! And so there was considerable tension between us. Few of my friends knew of this, but those I had confided in were shocked. It was a tough time!

I returned to the task at hand, quickly revisiting Ben's precompleted lab work: all of his data were perfect. Then I headed back to the examination room, stopping in the reception area to lock the door since nobody was covering the desk. When I reentered the examination room I nearly stopped short: there was Ben sitting on the examination table in just his boxers! He had forsaken the gown, which I had implied as optional since some patients hate them, but the sight of a nearly naked, buff young black man is not the norm for my practice. It was an arresting sight!

"I hate wearing those things, Doctor! Is this okay?" he inquired.

"Uhhh...y..yess...perfectly okay," I stuttered in response. "How ever you're most comfortable." I maintained my composure and added, "Let's get you taken care of." And so we began.

First, I provided in-depth analysis of Ben's exemplary lab results, jotting down handwritten notes on the back of his report so that he could have them for his own reference. All the while I chatted with him in a conversational fashion, asking questions about his life, habits, diet, etcetera, while inputting notes to my patient management laptop. This is a standard method of obtaining valuable background information from patients in a relaxing manner.

Ben shared quite a bit about his family, school, interests, social life, and so forth. We were discussing his studies including upcoming finals, when he explained that a full physical was required for a research trip to Africa that would last through the next semester. Thus our appointment. He informed me that he would not need any inoculations as they would be administered by the university medical office. I was quite impressed with Ben's charm, confidence, his articulateness, and obvious intelligence.

Next, I took him over to the scale for measurements, which were normally precompleted by my assistants. I noticed he smelled nice: clean, but with a distinct musk. I couldn't help but discreetly admire his physique: he was not a bodybuilder, rather a refined and beautifully proportioned athlete. He looked at once incredibly strong and graceful. And he was deep, dark brown.

A tightness developed in my throat as I took quick glances while adjusting the scale. I noticed my lips were dry. Measurements completed and noted at 6'-4" and 220 pounds, I instructed Ben to get back on the table. He obliged, and it was then that I noticed his arousal. The sight was shocking and I froze! His eyes caught me as I stared at the enormous bulk constrained by his boxers before I finally found the wherewithal to turn away. Again, I found myself unsettled.

Ben apologized in embarrassment: "I'm sorry ma'am, but if I knew you were a woman, let alone a very pretty woman, I would have chosen another doctor! The online medical guide lists you as Dr. Eric Beaumar, not Dr. Erica Beaumar!"

At that I regained my bearings, giggling over the typo and assuring Ben that I would inform the HMO! And I urged him not to worry about his reaction, explaining that it's a common response for a healthy man. I tried to relax him, suggesting we could take a break if he felt too embarrassed, or even stop entirely, allowing him to find a male physician with whom he might feel more comfortable.

I was flattered that I had this effect on a much younger man, though in fact I was lying since the nervousness of the situation normally counteracts any male arousal: never in my career had I witnessed such a potent response from a patient. Ben insisted that he would be fine and wanted to settle his travel requirement.

"Very well then!" I agreed, setting the blood pressure cuff around his well-muscled arm.

The sight of my fingers against Ben's dark skin was strangely beguiling. I had always found some black men to be attractive. More often, however, I found them too intimidating and 'other'. But I found being so close to this one pleasant to say the least. Yes, the sight of Ben's dark, muscular body was getting to me, and in his rough-hewn face I found a rugged soulfulness beyond his years. I held my stethoscope against his arm under the cuff, admiring its strong muscular and vascular structure. His blood pressure was ideal, but his pulse high. Not surprising, all things considered.

Next I placed the stethoscope on his chest, back and abdomen, resting my other hand on his shoulders, back and chest in turn as he drew deep breaths as directed. Again I noticed his skin: it was thick and resilient, with a satiny sheen. It felt different than Caucasian or Asian skin, wonderfully different. And his scent...I felt my throat tighten up more, and there was no denying my own arousal. It felt like I had swallowed a walnut whole, shell and all! There was a direct link from my constricting throat to my erogenous zones, which started to swell and tingle. My nipples hardened. I struggled to hide any indication of my state, but the heat was rising! I noticed Ben's heavy breathing and intense gaze. His internals sounded beautifully healthy through my stethoscope.

I then instructed him to lie back on the table. His erection had abated somewhat as he stretched his magnificent physique before me. I examined his thoracic area, pressing down on his chest and abdomen with my hands and fingers, looking for any protrusions or masses. He was so strong and solid that I could barely make anything budge! I did the best I could, but I just didn't have enough leverage. So, I climbed up to kneel along his side, allowing me to bear down behind my hands and fingers.

This worked more effectively, but the feel of his smooth, warm skin, and the sight of his dark, powerful body beneath me were almost too much to handle. He had begun to grow again as the result of my touch, his boxers tenting up. No doubt I was sending olfactory signals as well. Ben was so strong and perfectly formed that I knew I would find nothing, and I was correct. I clambered down from my perch and we were almost done, thank God.

Finally, I asked Ben to sit up on the edge of the table, as there was one last step in the examination. I explained that I had to examine his testicles for abnormalities, using all of my will to appear professional, to speak firmly and clearly. I just needed to move his boxers down to his thighs for a brief moment for access.

He nodded 'Yes', looking deeply aroused and a bit frustrated.

Ben lifted himself as I tugged on his boxers. They were tight on his powerful thighs, and so I could only move them down slowly. By now I was lightheaded with desire, and if my life had depended on it I could not have pulled my gaze from what was being unveiled before me.

The fabric slid snugly down his muscular thighs, revealing a dense mat of course, black hair, and the magnificent shaft of his sex: thick, dark like bittersweet chocolate, and veiny. It was constrained by the tension of the waistband. I had the boxers nearly halfway down his thighs and still it was held in check. More and more of the beautiful shaft appeared as I stared in wonder, lips parted, trembling slightly. Finally it broke free and swung upward, at which point I gasped audibly.

I looked up and politely asked him to spread his legs just a bit. He could not since his thighs filled his boxers so fully, and so I asked to lower them further for just a moment. He nodded 'Yes', again.

I tugged them down to his knees where they slipped to his ankles before falling off altogether. So there he was in all his glory. Ben was leaning back on his hands with his legs slightly spread as I had instructed him; his breathing labored and his eyes burning through mine. His full testicles were resting heavily on the edge of the table between his legs; his magnificent, uncircumcised phallus pointing straight at me. It was at least 10" long, so dark it appeared black, and almost perfectly straight though with the slightest curve forward. As if it were straining under its own weight. It was nearly as thick as my forearm, heavily embroidered with veins, with a huge, dark purple, helmet-like head. And it was dripping.

By now my genitals were a steaming mess and my nipples so hard they felt like they would break and fall off. Still I resolved to remain professional. Ben's organ was cantilevered over his testicles, and so I gently held it out of the way with my right hand: its solid weight made me shiver with delight as it twitched with his heartbeat.

I then reached out and took his right testicle in my left hand, rolling and probing it with my fingers, lingering before moving to the left one. I reveled in their firmness, dampness and heat, in the musky scent that was wafting up to my nostrils. My own breathing was ragged and I gave up trying to hide it. Of course his testicles were perfect like everything else about him. This was hardly surprising, as black men rarely suffer testicular cancer or even nodules. They enjoy too much testosterone for anything to go wrong there. Each testicle was perfectly formed, filling my hand completely.

I stood there with Ben's left testicle in my hand as I completed the examination, watching in fascination as his dark cock twitched, untouched. Part of me, the respected professional, wanted to send this young man on his way. To do my job, fulfill my oath, and earn the trust of my community. Another part of me wanted to surrender and get on her knees. Which would prevail? I stood in silence, contemplating my possible actions and their potential consequences.

I made my decision. I looked into his eyes as I released him, then ran my soft fingers up the underside of his shaft. "It's beautiful..." I whispered. "You are so gorgeous. So strong and dark and perfect."

I could barely believe my words even though they were true many times over. I was in another state of being as his eyes bore through me. Instinctively I slid between his legs, sinking to my knees on the step before him. Ben looked down at me, and I up at him. Setting my stethoscope in my ears again, I took its bell and placed it on his organ. I could hear the thump and whoosh of blood as it coursed rhythmically through his dark phallus. His lifeforce!

Ben closed his eyes and muttered incoherently. Opening them again, he gently removed my glasses and set them on the table beside him. "You have beautiful eyes, Doctor..." he breathed.

I took his massive girth in my hands and caressed him lovingly, then holding him by the base gently rubbed his hot, rigid darkness all over my face: my forehead; eyes; nose; cheekbones; cheeks; neck; jawline; chin; and lips. I was gasping with excitement as I thrust my hips into the air between his legs.

I kissed the flared head, savoring the slick, sweet emissions; then slowly danced my mouth down the shaft, kissing, licking and nibbling the dark, veiny, satiny length. Down to his beautiful, sperm-filled testicles and back up, then wrapping my lips around the head and working them tighter and tighter down the rigid shaft.

Ben looked down at the sight before him: me in my skirt, blouse, lab coat and stethoscope, worshipping his life-giving black cock. He was caressing my face and hair, and never moving my eyes from his I unclipped my hair with my lips still wrapped tightly around him, letting it cascade around my face. I could feel his huge though gentle hands stroking me again, his strong fingers running through my silky locks, then clamping like a soft though unyielding vise around my head. The sounds I was making were obscene: moaning, whimpering, smacking. Spittle running down my chin.

He unbuttoned the top of my blouse with one hand as the other found the back of my head. I teased his cockhead with my tongue, then felt it overpowered as the massive helmet pushed its way into the back of my throat. It felt so huge and hot in my mouth as I breathed raggedly through my nose. I wanted to taste him. I wanted to feel his superior organ throb and explode in my mouth. I wanted to feel and taste his thick, hot, sperm-rich semen erupt into my mouth, and then gulp it hungrily into my belly. But there was another part of me, a more powerful part.

Ben seemed to read my mind. "Tell me what you want, Doctor!" he gasped.

I whimpered in response.

"Tell me what you want!" he repeated.

I pulled his cock out of my mouth and whispered, "I want you inside me!"

He continued, almost mocking me, "You love it, don't you, Doctor?"

"Yesss, I love it!" I hissed with a nod of my head.

"What do you love, Doctor?" he asked. I hesitated. He asked again, insistently, "What do you love, Doctor?"

I was in a subversive dream -- pulling him out I whimpered, "I love black cock..."

"What do you love, Doctor?" he repeated once again.

"I love black cock..." I recited.

I took him in again, and once more he implored, "Tell me what you love, Doctor."

This time I responded with him still in my mouth, choking out, "Black cock..." I was barely comprehensible.

I took him in as deep as I could, and then with my lips wrapped tightly around his shaft I pulled him out exceedingly slow, my eyes locked on his. I could feel every swollen vein as it passed over my tongue and under my tightly drawn lips. His size felt almost grotesque in my mouth, and yet it excited me like nothing I had ever dreamed of. Finally I felt the firm ridge of his glans backing out, and then he was free with a wet pop. It was so deliciously decadent that I repeated the motion twice, smiling inside at the obscene smacking sound of the exit, and Ben's sexy groans.

I was on fire, and yet I felt a yearning hollowness. I wanted my body to be opened by him. Filled by him. I declared in a wavering though adoring voice: "Please! I want you so badly! Like nothing I have ever known. Please!

With gentle tugs under my arms Ben coaxed me onto my feet again, then inched my lab coat over my shoulders until it fell to the floor. He then proceeded to unbutton the rest of my blouse and pull it open, pushing the collar aside to my delicate shoulders. He caressed my tummy, and my rib cage. He caressed my lace-covered breasts, and then unclasped my bra. My nipples had never been so inflamed: dark pink, swollen, cone-shaped areola capped by rock-hard nibs. My breasts were heaving roughly, damp with perspiration. I was lucky that I had good genes from my mother, because even after two children my body proved to be tight and resilient, my breasts still full and upright.