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The Dermatology Appointment and my Physicians Assistant

I had known Rita for tens years; she was the Welcome Wagon woman when we moved here. She was recently divorced at the time, and has been in my wife's circle of friends ever since.over the years has never been more than a friend of my wife's, although we seemed to have something between us.

Whenever my wife and I were at a function put on by one of her woman friends, there was always about twice as many women as men, since it included all the divorced and widowed women. If none of my male friends were there it seemed I usually ended up talking with Rita. Once my wife mention that Rita and I liked each other. It was merely a statement without jealousy; just an observation.

However something attracted me to Rita, probably her large breasts, and the fact that she seemed very sweet and unassuming, and not intent on impressing all the men like all the other single women. She had gained quite a bit of weight since we first met her, and I was probably one of the few people who noticed, and I'm sure that's only because I was well aware that her boobs were getting larger.

And they were big! I had never kissed her, although the standard greeting in our circle between the women and a man and woman was a hug, often accompanied by a platonic kiss. But her hugs were great. She would almost bear hug me, flattening her breasts out across my entire chest, and I had to admit I looked forward to them.

We didn't even have a regular dermatologist until a couple of years ago, and ended up becoming patients at Rita's clinic because it was convenient and our friends liked it. I had a suspicious area removed from my stomach and it was a much longer procedure that I had been led to believe. I thought I was just going to go in the office, pull up my shirt and have the doctor cut a little bit of tissue off the spot. When I was told to take off all my clothes and put on a gown I knew I had underestimated the procedure.

Since I had been wearing sandals, when I was lying on the table I was totally naked under the gown, not even having any socks on. Rita was the physician Assistant, and she and another aide started covering my body with folded sheets, first sliding one underneath the gown to cover my pubic area and legs. Then they pulled my gown up by my neck and covered my chest and my sides, leaving a large target area for the doctor to work on.

Rita gave me the numbing shots, and then the two women left. About fifteen minutes later Rita returned with the doctor and a cart full of instruments. The doctor started opening packages as Rita rubbed all sorts of sterilizing fluids on me.

"What kind of music relaxes you, we can play almost anything the patient wants?" Rita asked. Since I had just gotten back from Jamaica, I requested Bob Marley. The music started and the doctor picked up a scalpel. Rita came to the other side of the table and placed one hand on my shoulder and the other pinning my hand against my side, obviously to hold me steady as the doctor cut me. I couldn't feel anything where the doctor was working on me but was well aware of Rita's right boob which was pushing up against my right shoulder, and began rubbing me as Rita started slowly jiving in time with the music. I twisted my hand around and we locked our fingers in a hand hold as she rubbed a little harder. I don't know if she did that with all the male patients or not, but it sure took my mind of the doctor cutting pieces of flesh out of my stomach. She let go of my hand several times during the cutting to assist the doctor, but always erg ripped my hand when done.

When the cutting was over, she assisted him in stitching me up, several layers worth. She didn't need to hold me anymore but her big boobs were constantly rubbing against me as they closed me up. When we were all done I thanked her for taking the edge off the operation. She didn't say a thing, just smiled.

Two weeks later when it was time to have the top layer of stitches out, I got the last appointment of Friday afternoon, 4:45. It was fine because I dropped my wife off at the restaurant where a bunch of us go for Happy Hour on Friday night, and then drove to the clinic nearby. Unfortunately, the doctor was backed up, having had an emergency procedure to do earlier in the afternoon. I was the only person in the waiting room as the staff started to leave for the long holiday weekend.

I don't know if it was any big thing, but I wondered if Rita should have been working on me by herself since we were friends. She had called me into an exam room and told me to get undressed and put on a gown as she left me in privacy. Just as before, I stripped everything off and put on the gown. When she returned she saw I didn't have pants on and casually said, "You didn't really need to take your pants off, were just pulling out the stitches." However, And I thought about this quite a bit later: she never told me to put them back on either. She just told me to get on the table and the doctor would be in momentarily, and then left.

About five minutes later there was a knock on the door and she and the doctor entered. He said a quick "hello" as he lifted my gown, looked underneath it at the wound, and said, "that looks very good, you healed fine." In almost the same motion he turned and headed for the door, obviously late in his holiday plans. "Should I ask Martha to stick around and help you close up?" He said as he walked out the door.

"No, I'll be fine, I know she and her husband are anxious to get on the road." I don't know it the doctors concern was about closing the office or leaving her alone with me. He certainly wasn't concerned with the fact that I was totally naked under the gown.

Rita pulled up a rolling table filled with medical supplies and started to work on taking out my stitches. She pulled the gown up from the side, exposing my stomach, while keeping my privates covered, even though the gown was no longer at my knees but now dangerously close to exposing me on the bottom end.

As soon as she started touching me I realized I was getting aroused. It wasn't as if it was just her fingers touching me, it was her whole hand. Her one hand was flat against my lower stomach almost to my pubic hairs as she used the other to wipe the wound with different disinfectants. It was almost like me using the whole palm of my hand and fingers to feel a breast.

When she finally finished she said, "OK, here is the hard part; I'm going to pull the stitches out and it shouldn't be too bad, I don't think you'll need me to numb the area." I didn't say anything, just nodded for her to go ahead. "You can hold me if it will relax you," she said.

"Can I hold your boob?" I laughed loudly so she would know it was a joke.

There was a pause and she finally said, "Sure, why not if it will make you more comfortable."

I couldn't believe my ears. I didn't even think about it as I immediately grasped the breast that had been making incidental contact with my body all through our session. There was no reaction from her whatsoever as she proceeded to take the stitches out. When I started gently squeezing her breast I noticed a distinct surprised smile on her face. And then it happened; I got a partial erection that lifted the bottom of my gown to the point where it popped out from underneath.

She acted like nothing had happened as she continued her work, but when she was having difficulty with the gown interfering with her work she said, "well now that the cat is out of the bag, why don't I just get this out of the way." She took the bottom of the gown and rolled it up so that it was lying across my upper chest. When she went back to work, the free hand that had been on my groin was now a little bit lower, actually touching the top of my pubic hairs. As I started imaging her as being naked too, it caused me to go totally erect.

I was so embarrassed I couldn't look at her so looked off to the side. She finally finished removing the stitches and then moved on to sterilizing the area and putting on fresh bandages. I didn't remove my hand from her breast, but I had stopped squeezing. She didn't say anything about my hand still being there as she gave me instructions for keeping the wound clean and dry. Finally she said, "we're done here, you can put this away now," as she grasped my cock and gave it a little shake.

It lasted less than two seconds and wasn't meant to be sexual (well maybe just a tiny bit; I had been rubbing her tit after all), but the incredible sensation was burned into my mind, almost as if I had had an orgasm. I could vividly remember almost every sensation, including her fingers touching my balls.

She left to start closing up as I got dressed, and when I finished I waited so I could walk her out. I was dying to invite her to the happy hour, since she probably knew most of the people there, but I was deathly afraid that my body language or facial expressions could cause my wife to spot something wasn't right.

We got to the parking lot and went our separate ways; no hug because this was a purely professional meeting. I waited to make sure she got into her car alright and then we waved. If there is a sequel to this story it will probably have to be a fantasy, but in the meantime I can only hope.