Jennifers Gyno Exam

It was a pretty quiet day at my clinic. I'd been out of med school, residency, and all that shit for about two years now and my fledgling clinic just outside Boston was doing alright. I had a decent number of clients by dint of my reputation and I'd been networking around town – talking to people, business owners, and other doctors, around the tony costal town where I lived and kept my office.

I was on a pretty standard routine. 8:00AM up. Workout, breakfast, shower, into work by 9:30. It was a sunny May day, unseasonably warm, so I stayed at the beach a bit longer than usual after my run to take in the impending sense of summer.

I pulled my 4Runner into the office around 9:45, a little late, but I didn't have any clients that morning, so who cares, right? The office was small, but at a prime location in the heart of town. The building was an old trading house, with beautiful antique wood floors and old, hand blown glass windows.

"Morning, Viv," I said as I walked by receptionist/nurse/all-around helper's desk.

"Drake" she said as I walked by, "You're late!"

"No worries, Viv, we don't have any patients until 10:15," I said.

She pointed across the room to the alcove of white benches topped with blue pillows on the other side of the room. There was a girl sitting there, swipping down her phone. She looked up at me expectingly.

"Hi Doctor, I scheduled kind of last minute, but I'm going back to school soon and I need a physical," she said as she stood up to shake my hand. "I'm Jennifer by the way, Jennifer Arnko"

"Hi Jennifer, no problem, sorry I'm late, I didn't realize we had an appointment and I got cought up at the beach taking in the sun after my morning run."

We held Eye contact for a while. Her eyes were so dazelingly blue – it took me back to the ocean.

"Head into exam room two. Let me get your file and I'll be right with you"

"Thanks for the heads up, Viv" I said sarcastically.

"Your welcome, dickwad," Viv replied.

We had a weird report like that – we were always shitting on each other.

I grabbed by tablet, left my backpack on my desk and went over to the exam room. I knocked on the door, and walked in. I sat down in one of the chairs, crossed my leg and rested the tablet on it as I checked through Jennifer's file.

"Alright, Miss Arnko. I see that you're here for your annual physical exam, right?"

I looked across at the flaxen haired girl sitting in the chair diagonal from me, her body coiled with nervous energy.

"M-hmm," she nodded her head"

"Ok" I glance down at my tablet, "I see that you are 19?"

"Yep"

"And do you need any forms filled out today? Sports? School?"

"No, I'm just here for a regular physical"

"Great, we should be quick then – anything specific that need's looking at?"

"Well... No, not really. It's just that my dad is a doctor and he says it's good to get an exam every year, plus I want to be a doctor anyway, so It's cool to check it out."

"Ahh that's great. Your dad's right – it's good to get a yearly exam, plus it keeps us docs in business," I joked.

She half smiled at my half-assed joke. "Not half bad," I thought.

"So if you don't have any specific forms to fill out this should be pretty quick. I'll just check your eyes, ears, heart, lungs, and reflexs and you'll be out of here – not too painful, I promise." Again, another poor attempt at banter on my part.

"Oh, actually, I'd like to be a bit more thorough. My dad said to ask for the 'well-women exam'? she said almost quizickly.

"No problem," I said as I stood up. I walked over to the drawer and pulled out a paper gown. I handed it to her, "here you go."

Normally "well-women exams" are performed by gynecologists, but I respected the doctor's daughter's desire for a through exam, and as one of the few general practitioners in the small town was used to performing a verity of medical tasks. Plus – and I hate to admit this – but I was really looking forward to seeing this girl naked. She had the face of a model, no exaggeration, and pert b-cup breasts and a nice ass. From the glimmer in her eye I could tell she was smart, too.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," I said as I walked out of the room.

A few minutes later I knocked on the door.

"Come in," she said.

She was sitting in the same chair as before, but now she was wearing the paper gown instead of her blue tank-top and black yoga pants. I could see her toes now, too. She had painted them.

"Alright, why don't you hop up on the exam table."

She stood up and I noticed, the underline of a bra rubbing up against the paper gown. She had no idea what was in store for her. She walked over to the table and pulled herself up onto it.

"Ok, first let's check your eyes"

"Good. Now ears"

"Alright, everything looks good. Ok open up and say, ah"

"Great. Now if you wouldn't mind let's have you move your gown down, Ill check your heart-beat now"

She lowered her gown, revealing her baby-blue bra. I worked the stethoscope around the top of her chest, and then dipped it lower, just bellow her bra line. Then I put the stethoscope on her back.

"Breath in"

"Again"

"Big breath this time"

"And one more"

"Great everything sounds good. Now I'll have you remove your bra, and we'll do a breast exam"

She looked a bit startled when I said this, but reached back and unclasped her bra nonetheless. She gently dropped it on the side of the exam table. He breasts were immaculate: beautiful pink areolas, absolutely medium in size, and not an inch of sag to her breasts. I noticed a bid of sweat under her arms. She was nervous.

"Hey, Jennifer?"

"Yes, Drake?"

"I can't do this"

Inexplicably, she was now bent over and her pussy and ass were aggressively bulging toward my face.

"It's fucked up. You're a figment of my imagination, representing a real person, who I've seen, but never met, whom I creepily followed on Instagram, and who, as far as I know (or can tell) doesn't know thing one about my existence and likely thinks I am a weirdo (if she has any thoughts about me at all) – this is the real Jennifer Arnko I'm talking about – not you, you who are merely a part of my mind, some kind of concoction of neurons firing, and most certainty not a real person or even enti—"

"Relax, would you, its not that –"

"Would you let me finish? The whole idea of fictionalizing this bizarre medically sexual account about a real person (who again, I reiterate you are not), especially when interlaced with biographical information about the real Jennifer, whose dad really is a doctor, and who is from Boston, and does have pretty blue eyes, and blonde hair, and very likely has perky boobs and light pink nipples (but I'll probably never now). Fuck this, I'm not continuing this exercise of perversion. I have a lot of work to do and I just burned an hour on this – an hour that could have gone to much needed sleep... or that class I skipped this morning or the homework I didn't finish or to calling my dad, with whom I haven't spoken in a week and who has reached out to me, or securing my housing in Las Vegas, or any number of other practical things. I really do like you though, Jennifer – real or otherwise, there is something about you that captures my attention, like Vonnegut's animal magnetism. I don't know if I'm using that illusion right? Whatever. I'd like to bang you. And I know myself. At least well enough, to know that you are too normal for me, too put together, and I'm unbalanced – I'd say damaged but I've had such a sheltered life its hard to see how that could be – and I just know if were in a relationship (even just a string of casual dates or something) I would cause problems, and it scares me that this thought – the current one I am typing – is just a manifestation of the very neurosis/mental defect I am describing..."

And then we had sex.