At a routine check-up with my Primary Care Physician I ask all the right questions, and I discover that my beautiful Doctor is a Hot Wife.
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This is a work of fiction. Everything that happens here happens only in my imagination. This is a world in which there are no STDs, and birth control is universal and free, which leads to a greater freedom for women..
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My wife and I had been going to Dr. King since we moved to the city a few years ago. She has been in practice for many years and has maintained a good number of loyal patients. She is quite knowledgeable and has a good bedside manner, showing care but not wasting time within appointments.
Dr. King is quite attractive: shoulder length ash-blonde hair that she was allowing to age. to a luxurious silver, pale skin that was enhanced by a light tan. As she was mindful of her patients she was almost always in a serious manner, conducting herself in a professional and respectful manner. claire and I enjoy having her as our PCP (Primary Care Physician), though we do not see her often, as we are very much on the healthy side.
So, I didn't think much of it when I received a postcard telling me that it was time for my annual physical. I called the office and set a time. There were not a large number of people in the waiting room when I arrived, so my wait time was about fifteen minutes.
The nurse took me back to the exam room and verified that my history was up to date.
"Doctor King will be with you in a few minutes."
"Thank you," and I opened my book to read while I waited.
A knock on the door and the Doctor came in.
Doctor King greeted me and we spoke of inconsequentials for a few minutes and then she settled herself on the rolling stool, She placed her laptop on the exam table and she made herself comfortable, crossing her legs with her right foot extended, which turned out to be important.
She went through my history (again!), asking, telling, advising, planning.
As she tapped the keys on her laptop, I studied her: she was a joy to look at. Her lab coat was buttoned to the top button. In the "V" I could see the royal blue of her silk blouse. Her skirt was a basic black pencil design, which I thought fit her quite well. Having been a jeweler for many years, I studied her adornments: around her neck she wore a box chain, supporting a very nicely sized pear shape diamond of a very nice quality. Her wristwatch was a fine brand, a two-tone Raymond Weil. I was amused and pleasantly surprised to see a rope chain on her right ankle.
The anklet had been intensely popular from before the fifties. But different link patterns came to the market the anklet had fallen out of favor for a few years because of a tendency for it to snag hosiery. For those those of my customers who were interested in an anklet I always suggested a solid link (not a hollow) rope, as it was smooth, a clean look. And of course, not damaging to fabrics. And very noticeable.
I became aware of a silence and I looked up to see Dr. King looking at me, a bemused look on her face.
"I'm sorry, you were saying?"
"Yes, I was asking if you are having trouble concentrating, if you get distracted easily. Do you?"
"Uh, well, not usually, unless I see something that grabs my attention." My voice trailed off, embarrassed at being caught staring.
"Do you see something you find interesting?"
A embarrassed grimace crossed my face, and I'm not sure how well I controlled it. I decided, why not? We"re about the same age, and I shouldn't worry, as long as I phrased my words rightly.
"I, uh, couldn't help but notice your chain, uh, your anklet. It's very nice, I can tell."
