African Daughter's Medical Problem

Imani 19

Nala 18

Mrs Amara Bankole

Doctor Mwangi

For some African villages there was no doctor nearby for years. Then a Dr Mwangi set up a clinic within walking distance. In rural Africa a short walking distance can be a walk of an hour or even two. There was euphoria in those villages around the clinic upon his arrival with many villagers bestowing him with garlands and locally hand-made gifts.

One such grateful villager was Mrs Bankole who brought her eldest daughter Imani to the doctor first thing in the morning, before Imani went to school, desperate to get her seen to. Luckily for them the clinic was only one hour walk from their home. And the school was only a further 30mins walk from there, which from home is a manageable 45mins.

They were sat outside the clinic when the door opened and out came a man with his arm in a sling.

"Thank you doctor, thank you," the man said, almost in tears. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"It's ok. I'm glad I was able to help you. See you in a week's time," the doctor replied with a kind face. Then he turned to Mrs Bankole.

"Hello, I'm Dr Mwangi. Please come in and sit down. What seems to be the problem on this lovely hot sunny morning?" the doctor asked cheerfully.

"Imani, my daughter is complaining about pain in her abdomen and down below," Mrs Bankole said bravely. "She's been complaining for years but we could not get her to a doctor. Please, can you help her? We want to get her married one day very soon; we haven't been able to because of the problem, so..."

"Down below...do you mean her vagina?" Instantly the doctor's interest grew and he saw possibilities.

Mrs Bankole squirmed at the explicit question. "Yes," she replied softly, trying not to sound embarrassed. She was hoping for a female doctor or a white, Western doctor that she heard some villages got, but Dr Mwangi was the only doctor for miles around. She felt doubly embarrassed at having to talk to a male African doctor, thankfully he was not from her own community, but being an African like herself she was still uneasy talking about private things.

"Have you had a look at her vagina?"

Imani almost choked at the suggestion that her mother take a peek at her privates. And Mrs Bankole almost shouted out "NO!" she was from a decent conservative tribal family and they don't go around looking at each other's privates; Imani is no longer a little girl anyway. She instead took a deep breath, composed herself and replied in a more controlled manner.

"No, I thought it best to have a doctor examine her."

"Very well," the doctor said, and turned to the young girl, a pretty young dark, typical African styled curly haired girl with light brown skin, well, lighter brown than many of the locals; quite a lovely looking girl in her school uniform. "Imani, how old are? And can you point for me exactly where it hurts on your abdomen?"

"I'm 19," Imani said and indicated by rubbing all over her belly.

"You look like you're in a school uniform. Still going to school at 19?"

"We didn't have school here when she was younger," Mrs Bankole chose to reply to the doctor. "And then she missed many days when school did come, because of her pains. She is behind a few years but I still want her to have some schooling. She'll be going to school after seeing you."

"I see. And have you yourself had a look at your vagina to see what might be hurting there?" the doctor asked Imani as if he was only talking about a mild scratch on her arm.

The sheer talk of herself looking and doing things there was SO embarrassing, especially in front of her mother. She simply replied "No," looking down at the floor.

"That's ok. Can you stand in front of me please, sideways to me, with your legs apart?"

Imani did just that, waiting with anticipation.

"I'll just take a look at your abdomen." Whilst still seated, with his right hand Dr Mwangi proceeded to press and caress the girl's tummy through her blouse whilst supporting her by her back with his left hand. "Can you cough, please?"

Dr Mwangi felt his male hormones racing having this teenaged schoolgirl so close to him and touching her, running his hands over her body. Being at his face level he could clearly see the girl's white bra underneath. (He never understood why they made the girls' school blouses sheer enough to reveal their bra. But he was pretty glad!) The sweat due to the walk to the clinic and the heat of the morning had made the white blouse stick to Imani's body, and the sunlight streaming from the window made it almost transparent in places, especially over the tight fit around her ample bust. Clearly the blouse was used over the past few school years to save money, when it originally would have been baggy, but now surely it was too tight and will need to be replaced. He was also aware of the heady scent of the girl; the perspiration on her body and especially the very close armpit made his head spin, driving unprofessionally erotic thoughts about the girl and her mother through his mind.

Imani was aware that the doctor's hand on her back had slipped down and now was rather low, partially on her bum, and his front hand pressed and caressed all over her abdomen including travelling rather uncomfortably low, past the skirt waistband; she could feel his hand pressing on top of her panties. She looked at her mother but there was no objection from her, so Imani ignored the doctor's wondering hands.

"Ok. I need to check down below," and quite blatantly, just like that, he stuck his right hand up Imani's green tartan school skirt and cupped her pussy.

Imani naturally let out an "Eeek!" She immediately looked down wide-eyed and saw in disbelief the doctor's hand disappearing up under her skirt. It was a surreal sight. She then looked questioningly over at her mother again. There was a frown on her mother's face and her mouth wordlessly opened and closed but she said nothing. So, unable to meet the doctor's eyes, Imani looked up at the ceiling concentrating on a wavy crack in the paint, resigned to his embarrassing indelicate touch from the doctor.

Dr Mwangi nearly exploded in his pants; his cock was instantly rock hard and madly throbbing from his own daring with the girl's mother right there watching. He just loved putting his hand up his female patients' skirts and dresses and he looked to find any excuses to do that. His authority as a doctor allowed him to get away with it, but he of course had to judge which patient would be meek enough not to complain of his illegal groping. But he craved that amazing erotic sight of seeing his hand disappearing up the stranger's skirt, then that initial contact with her intimate garment underneath and feeling for the type of panties she's wearing -- is it briefs, or a thong, or something silky, cotton, or lacy? -- oh, all those lovely questions to be answered by his exploring fingers. He loved to pretend he's doing some medical examination, when in fact all he's doing is feeling her up and exploring her underwear! And he loved to work in remote village outposts where the locals are more trusting and so he can get away with more. In larger towns people are more educated so opportunities were seldom.

His heart began to race. Of course for this schoolgirl it was cotton briefs. He caressed and gently squeezed her pussy, feeling and registering the sweaty damp gusset and the seams, and yes, the parting between her pussy lips. He fully cupped Imani between her legs, stroking her pussy, pretending to examine her even as he addressed her mother.

Dr Mwangi took a deep breath to compose himself and swallowed to lubricate his throat to prevent him from croaking unprofessionally. "When did she last have her period?"

"She hasn't started yet," Mrs Bankole replied, clearly nervous. "You haven't, have you, Imani?"

The girl shook her head, her cheeks turning red and burning hot.

"We can't get her married until she has her periods. Can you see what's wrong? Can you please help?"

"I'm just feeling to see if I can feel anything to be concerned about," the doctor said. Complete bullshit but the nervousness of the two females, especially the mother, gave him confidence to be daring. He snaked his fingers into the girl's panties through the side elastic and felt the gorgeous dampness of the girl's soft springy pubic hair, then he stroked her pussy lips.

Mrs Bankole could see the doctor's hand moving under her daughter's skirt; and she could feel the doctor looking at her as he groped her daughter. She felt disarmed and powerless to question the doctor's methods. She needed his help. She uneasily shifted in her seat, re-crossing her lovely legs, unaware that she was now exposing more of her thighs as her short loose skirted plain white dress rode up. It was a pretty dress, he thought, with the lace trimmings but dirtied by the obvious dust from their walk to the clinic.

Dr Mwangi portrayed himself as if in deep concentration, even sporting a thoughtful frown, as he 'professionally' went about the delicate 'examination' of Imani. But unknown to her mother the doctor's left hand had wormed its way down to unnecessarily cup Imani's youthful firm right arse cheek, allowing his little finger to rest in her rear parting, as his right hand roamed

equally

unnecessarily all over Imani's damp pubic region INSIDE the flustered girl's panties. Eventually he wiggled his middle finger to part her pussy lips and partially slide it inside her tight young cunt. She was dry there.

Imani gasped and her eyes widened at the strange sensation of having something in her young pussy for the first time in her life.

"As I examine Imani, I can never be certain what is normal for your family and what may need further investigation," Dr Mwangi began tactfully. "What would help is if I had a point of reference, some way to do a comparison." He paused to let that sink in.

When the doctor didn't carry on, Mrs Bankole naturally asked, "I don't understand. What do you need?" ...Just as the sly doctor wanted.

"Are you healthy, Mrs Bankole?" he asked, ignoring her question to keep her anxious.

"Yes..."

"Are your periods regular?"

Mrs Bankole was taken aback to be asked such a personal question, and in front of her young daughter! And anyway she wasn't here for herself!

"Are your periods regular? Imani's issue may be related to her lack of periods and could run in the family," the doctor explained.

"I see. Well, yes, they are," Mrs Bankole blushed and instinctively looked at Imani, who blushed even more.

"Good. And did you have these issues when you were younger?"

Mrs Bankole thought for a second. "When I was young, about 14 I think, but only for a while, but the problem was gone soon after I got married."

"I see." The doctor knew that it was customary to marry off early a few decades back, especially in the remote villages. "Are you on your period now?"

Mrs Bankole gulped. "N...No," she said softly. "I don't understand..."

Dr Mwangi recognized the questioning look, so he explained. "Imani is your daughter and if I can examine you as well then I can compare and rule out things. I would expect your vagina and Imani's vagina to be similar. May I examine you as well?" There, he said it. He tried his best to sound as professional as possible without his voice wavering and exposing his excitement...and his further bullshit. He let it hang for a few seconds. He still cupped Imani's arse and still had his finger up her pussy upto her hymen. He gently stroked the girl's secret evidence of her virginity.

'Yes, this delectable girl is still a virgin, as implied by her mother,'

thought the horny doctor.

"Erm...Is it really necessary?" was all Mrs Bankole could say, pausing to find an answer.

"It would be in the best interest of your daughter," he played the ace. He felt Imani's pussy squeeze his finger. What a thrill to be playing with the daughter's arse and her pussy under her skirt whilst talking to her unwittingly complicit mother.

"Well, I guess that would be alright. If you need to....What do I need to do?" she said reluctantly as she pursed her lips. She was almost inaudible.

"Very good. Please stand in front of me to my right," Dr Mwangi said eagerly extracting his fingers from Imani's pussy and releasing her bum, to her relief. "And Imani, please turn around facing me."

The doctor ogled at Mrs Bankole as she placed her handbag on his desk, gracefully unfolded her legs and approached him.

'Fuck!'

he thought. He imagined her husband on top of her thrusting away with glee. What a lucky bastard!

Now mother and daughter both stood nervously in front of the doctor. To the delight of the horny doctor with the sunshine streaming in and with the perspiration Mrs Bankole's light summer dress also became semi-transparent, especially the tight top bodice part. He licked his lips as his eyes roved over the amazingly pretty and shapely, surprisingly elegant mother. Her mass of luxurious dark curly hair framed a naturally pretty face accentuated by the erotic (to him, anyway) pink lips. His eyes then picked out the jutting dark nipples and the dark area around them. He knew by looking at porn and from his own wife, and of course numerous patients, that most African women have dark nipples. So she clearly wasn't wearing a bra, (how naughty! he thought), but a bra was not necessary since the bust area of the dress was tailored to support the breasts, and probably she couldn't afford too many bras so didn't wear them when unnecessary; after all she had a daughter to dress as well.

The horny doctor's gaze lowered where her dress slightly flared out accentuating her hips. He longingly stared and salivated at the faint evidence of Mrs Bankole's white panties under the dress -- the naughty and daring mother had chosen not to even wear a slip! Again, extra clothing costs money. Her white panties contrasted and stood out faintly...against her darker skin complexion.

The mother did want to look more presentable when visiting such an important person like the new doctor for the first time; she was desperate for his help.

The sound of Mrs Bankole clearing her throat broke his trance and he automatically looked up to see her combing her fingers through her hair.

'How amazing and feminine is that action?'

he thought. He realized he was staring and Mrs Bankole had cleared her throat to attract his attention.

"Yes, thank you," he said rather quickly after being caught. "Can you part you legs please," he said to the mother.

She did, wearily; but then immediately nearly shrieked as she felt a hand grab her pussy. She looked down to see the doctor's hand disappearing up her dress. She was about to protest and suggest maybe going behind a screen, as is the normal practice, when the doctor beat her to it.

"I'm just going to examine you to see how you feel...," he said, but of course by 'examine' he meant grope. He started to massage her pussy, feeling up the cotton material of her panties. "...As I examine Imani at the same time so that it is easier to compare." As he said it he thrust his left hand up Imani's skirt and inside her panties. Then he snaked his right hand inside Mrs Bankole's panties.

'Jesus Christ'

he thought,

'that's a hairy pussy, what a bush!'

He combed his fingers in her curly, springy bush.

'Oh, yes. I love my job.'

He had mother's and daughter's pussies in his hands at the same time, feeling and probing.

'Oh man, can life be any better?'

But to look professional he needed to speak.

"Yes, the outer lips of the vagina feels similar, and I'll just feel the inside now," the doctor said, as casually as humanly possible. He shoved and wedged his middle finger right up Mrs Bankole's cunt.

Both mother and daughter froze rigid at the probing by the doctor's fingers, embarrassed as hell at having their privates felt up in view of each other. Imani had never even seen her parents kiss each other, so to see someone, actually a stranger, feeling up her mother's pussy was, well... weird, taboo...and she realized to her surprise...erotic.

Dr Mwangi's groping hand now felt wetness inside Imani's pussy. He was pleased. Then he heard muffled sounds from Mrs Bankole. He smiled. It then just occurred to the slimy doctor that the finger that was earlier up Imani's pussy was now lodged inside her mother's! Mother and daughter sharing pussy juices!

Amara (Mrs Bankole) loved her pussy being probed by her husband (with his fingers, dick and even his tongue), and she loved it when he went down on her, so she was finding it hard to not get turned on by the doctor's invasion. She squirmed and clenched her fists. So it was in this state of delirium that her mind grew foggy.

"Mrs Bankole, as much as I can tell by my fingers, it would be better if I can make a visual comparison. Would that be ok?"

"Yes, of course, doctor," she said, not really comprehending what he meant but felt obliged to accede to his request.

But she DID understand what he meant when he lifted up her dress with both hands and said, "Can you please hold up the dress?"

She shrieked! First at her indecent exposure and then at recalling that she hadn't worn clean panties that morning. She was going to do the laundry and hang the washing outside to dry after this clinic visit.

"It would be easier if you held the dress up, Mrs Bankole," the doctor insisted.

Hesitantly Amara took hold of the hem of her dress and became complicit in her own exposure. Dr Mwangi stared at the unexpectedly lacy panties, admittedly aged, and the dark patch in the front was clearly visible, some strands of black pubic hair were understandably poking out of the lace and from the sides.

"Thank you. I need to examine you so...," Dr Mwangi swiftly pulled Mrs Bankole's panties down to her knees before any objections could be voiced. Is there a more erotic sight then seeing a pretty woman with her panties at half mast?

"No, I think...," and he took liberty and pulled them down all the way to her ankles. "We need to take off your panties. Please step out, thank you."

Amara automatically complied whilst still frowning with doubt at the doctor's unusual request. She stepped out of her panties with her heart pounding and cheeks burning red due to embarrassment on number of levels. "Um, I haven't had time to do laundry, you see," she said apologetically referring to her stained panties.

Indeed the doctor noticed and smelt the discoloured crotch of her panties, especially obvious on the white material. He was quite familiar with used panties due to his delving in the laundry basket at home to secretly sniff his two daughters' used underwear...and do other naughty things with them. Oh, yes, this was just lovely.

"And, um, I haven't had the time to tidy myself; it's a bit overgrown," Mrs Bankole said apologetically to explain her rather bushy, overgrown pubes; trying to make a joke of it. She realized she was babbling due to nervousness.

Dr Mwangi straightened up and carefully placed the white panties flat on his desk, fully open. Then he stared and marvelled at the dark bushy pubes between this lovely mother's legs accentuated by the white of the dress.

"Don't worry about anything, Mrs Bankole. I have been a doctor for a long time and I have seen very many women naked and have seen everything. In fact I tell my wife to leave herself like this, it's lovely and very feminine," the doctor tried to reassure, but Mrs Bankole was shocked at his revelation of his personal life and his personal preference on such a delicate and intimate matter. "And you may be interested to know that most African women have...quite a luxurious growth here," the doctor quite casually helped himself and combed his fingers in the dark haired soft curly bush. Then he instructed once again: "If you please, Mrs Bankole, part your legs please."