Kimberly's Medical by Siggy

English patient here is my story you where asking about. Thank you to dah for posting it to me.

New Life by Kimberley

Part 1 The Medical

I’m Kimberley; this is my first post here. I have been coming here to read the stories along with my sister-in-law (Jessie) and brother-in-law (Jackson) for a couple of years now. A few weeks ago they said they wished they had the ability to write up some of our adventures. After a bit of arm-twisting I agreed, being the semi-literate one amongst us, to try my best to write up some of our adventures.

I better start at the beginning, which was just over 41⁄2 years ago. I’d married Jackson’s brother (Grant) when I was just turned 18. We had twelve years of loving marriage. Yes, we’d had our sad times, like when I discovered that I couldn’t have kids due to an infection when I was young. Grant had been unemployed for a good few years due to the disappearance of the steel industry where we lived. But it was a good marriage.

On the morning of Monday 2nd of April 1999 my world fell apart. I was sitting in my kitchen just finishing breakfast. My doorbell rang and I stood up, lifted my jacket off the back of the chair and walked to the front door. As I was placing my arms in the selves and straightening the jacket on my shoulders I could see the two figures stood at my front door through the frosted glass. I could hear the crackle of the radio, the thick set padded protective jacket and the white and colourful striped car told me it was the police. I never thought anything of it. I assumed that they’d got the wrong house or that something was up with my car, or even that there was a problem at work. I had a spare set of keys in case the boss was off sick, late, or just couldn’t be bothered.

“Mrs Gladstone?” the female officer enquired.

“Yes” I said, hesitantly.

“May we come in?” the female officer asked.

I stepped back pulling open the half closed door to allow them in. It was then that I noticed my neighbour Gladys who’d been standing to the side. They broke the news of my husband’s death in a hit and run as best they could. But my world imploded at that point and darkness fell for nearly a whole year.

I took to drink. I wasn’t a drinker before, the occasional wine with a meal, the odd sherry or a few vodkas and tonics. I hit the bottle hard when I’d finished our stockpile I went on a spending spree. Mean time debts mounted. The mortgage was paid off, along with some of the other expenses associated with Grant’s death. Grant had secured loans against the house when he was out of work to keep us above water. These were now abandoned in my alcoholic haze. My work suffered, when I was there, which wasn’t often. Eventually they let me go after more warnings than I deserved. This just made finances unstable and eventually I was looking at bankruptcy.

This is when Jackson stepped in. Jessie had visited me about once a week. She had phone each day. She’d poured alcohol away. She fed me. She nagged me. But now Jackson became involved.

First, he spoke with all my creditors. He than arrange for me to come and stay with him and Jessie in the next major town to mine. This had two positive effects. They are Christians. Although not tea total they believe in the demon drink and there was none in their house except on special occasions. They got me to an AA group and a private addiction specialist. They kept the bill and said they would add it to my debts and collect when the time was right and I was back on my feet. They don’t believe in charity, believing that self-responsibility is the best charity you can offer a lost soul. Second effect, was that Jackson was able to sell my house and contents. His integrity was unbelievable. Anyone else would have taken advantage I’m sure but not Jackson. He haggled, and haggled to get the best price for everything. It meant I could pay off all my debts and have a nice nest egg. Jackson even got me a good set of financial investments, which have seen my good fortunes return.

Now we are getting to the parts that you really want to read about. Jackson arranged an interview with a friend of his who ran a small relatively new business. His friend’s wife who had run the administration side had decided to take time out to bring up a family. The pay wasn’t as good as my last job but beggars can’t be choosers. Besides the pension, holiday, and private health care perks made up for it. To access the private health care package I had to be past fit. The letter arrived confirm my appointment and telling me where I had to report to.

Since, I still did not know my way around town very well, and I could no longer drive having lost my license, being very lucky I didn’t lose my life or my liberty in the process, Jackson who had the late shift said he would take me. Now I hate medicals. I’m a very shy person. I dislike medicals for two reasons. Firstly, needles and other instruments, along with the procedures that go with them, the actual prodding and poking. Especially, breast exams, and checks down below but worse than this is the undressing. I just hate taking my clothes off. Having people see me undressed. Not nude. Well I mind that too, but worse is being neither dressed nor undressed.

I was sitting nervously in the passenger seat twiddling my fingers. Jackson was chattering away about some piece of engineering he was doing at work. My stomach was queasy as hell.

“Your quiet” Jackson said.

I looked at him with a smile then turned away to look out of the window.

“It will be okay, you’ve got the note from Don” Jackson said.

Don was my therapist he’d wrote a letter about my drink problem and sobriety of eight weeks at that time. I’d had to complete a pre-medical questionnaire and it asked for all sorts of information and medical statements. It wasn’t that I was worried about.

“Is it something else” Jackson asked.

“I hate medicals” I said.

“Don’t we all” Jackson said.

Silence fell for what seemed like ever as we twister and turn through back streets to avoid the early morning traffic.

“Hope you put clean underwear on” Jackson said trying to relieve the tension but just making my stomach sink at the thought of having to undress to find my underwear wasn’t clean.

Now I know must people tend to dress simply when they are going to the doctors or hospital. Not me. I love to dress up. It gives me confidence and makes me feel better. It also, I feel, makes the nurses and doctors treat you with more respect and not just as another piece of meet. I say this because my etched memory is the sound of my best high heels clip-clopping across the cobbled courtyard to the door of the private surgery. I had on a navy blue business suit, skirt and jacket, over a cream blouse. Tan tights, and nice fresh clean cotton panties and bra. I was later to regret the choice of underwear.

We pressed the buzzer of the door and a female voice asked who it was. I answered and she buzzed us in. We walked up the two flights of stairs to the doctor’s offices. We where let in by a very young woman of around 22/23. This was the doctor’s agency nurse who chaperone him during private examinations. She showed us to a seat and served Jackson coffee. I was too nervous to drink.

“Did you bring your questionnaire with you” the young nurse asked.

“Yes” I said handing it to her and wondering how she missed the large brown envelope in my hand.

“Do you also have your samples?” the young nurse said.

I now blushed at the knowledge of Jackson knowing that I had, and had, had to use the toilet like mere humans. I unzipped by bag and produced first a amber coloured file of urine. Jackson smiled. I then removed a small plastic pot with a obvious dark solid mass in it. The nurse took them and disappeared into the consulting room off the waiting room.

Jackson just sat there beaming and drinking his coffee. He’d undressed me with his eyes many times over the years but this time it was different since I was shortly to be undressed. I quivered and shook.

“It’s going to be fine” Jackson said, I tried a smile that fell into a smirk.

We sat there waiting the tick-tocking of the clock sending little spikes into my abdomen. God I was desperate for a wee. I could hear the sound of a male moving on a chair. “Aren’t all doctors male” was my logic for the sound coming from the open door into the waiting area from the doctor’s office, coming from a male. I could hear the nurse preparing things, Things clanked onto metal surfaces, and paper was torn, plastic snapped each and everyone sending my imagination into over drive.

Silence. That was worse they were now ready for me I could feel. Jackson slurped his coffee sitting at right angles to me. I’d sat next to the escape route. Not that I intended to use it. But it was comforting and reassuring that there was one.

“We are ready for you now Kimberley” the nurse said appearing at the door to the office.

I stood and walked towards her.

“Would you like your husband to come along as well,” the nurse asked.

I must have looked really puzzled. Then realised. “Oh! No!! I mean he’s my brother-in-law. I’m a widow,” I said, my last statement still sounding strange on my lips.

I entered the consulting room to see a man in his fifties sitting at a desk reading my form with his back too me. The nurse indicated that I was to take the seat to his left that was up against the wall that the back of the desk rested against. I crossed and sat down. He looked up and smiled warmly.

“Did you find us okay. We are a bit out of the way here” he said.

“Yes. My brother-in-law brought me,” I said.

“Good. We’ll start with a little chat,” he said.

The nurse was stood next to the open door with its edge to her left side. Next to her was a long mirror, which meant that the torture table, which was to my right, was right in view, all the time we had our “little chat”. My mind was desperately trying to pretend that it was not there to my right, that it was just some phantom. That all there was to my right was a void.

He got down to the nitty-gritty quiet quickly. My sexual history. My problems in trying to conceive and the aftermath of finding out I couldn’t. Then the death of my husband and my drinking problem. The illness I had as a child. Then my periods. Before finishing with general questions on diet, exercise, smoking and so on.

“Right I think its time to give you a MOT,” he said.

The motorcar allegory really didn’t add to my comfort.

“Would you like to pop your clothes off behind the screen there and put on the gown….”? He said, stopping and looking puzzled.

“You’ve not put out a gown for Mrs Gladstone” he said addressing the young nurse.

“There wasn’t any, so I thought you didn’t use them” she said.

I was now terror struck. This little conversation had my emotions wax and wane violently. I’ll try to explain. Firstly the thought of having to strip completely naked and change into one of those infernal gowns was bad enough. Then there was momentary relief with the hope that the exam would have to be cancelled because of the lack of a gown. But then the realisation that I could be heading for a completely naked exam was worse. Then what is worse for me was the reflection of me in my smart clothes with just my tights and knickers down, blouse and jacket open, bra up. Oh that was much worse, that is the cruellest humiliation for a women. I’d go with the nudity.

“There are some in the cupboard on the landing, they arrived the other day,” the doctor said.

Relief, no, yes. Oh I was now in a state.

The nurse disappeared to get the gown whilst the doctor pulled out the screen and positioned it. I stepped behind the screen and took a deep breath. I slipped off my heels and lowered my height by at least a good six inches. My nylons caused a static crackle on the wool carpet. I was surprised that the office was carpeted rather than covered with Lino. The area under the exam table did have one of those plastic protective covers you see in offices under desk chairs. I looked around and noticed the table for the first time deliberately. I could already see myself on it. There was a clothes hook behind my back; I’d noticed it, as the doctor pulled the screen into place. I turned and placed my handbag over it.

The doctor had returned to his seat at the desk and was busy scribbling into my file. I unbuttoned my jacket and slipped it off my shoulders and hung it up on the hook. My stomach was queasy and I was shaking lightly. My hands trembled. I was now deep in thought. I had a question on my mind and was trying to think how to ask it. I’d started twice and stopped myself already before any sound came out.

“When you say undress, do you mean completely” I said.

“Yes please Mrs Gladstone it makes it easier for everyone I think” he said. Well I didn’t think that but you can’t really ever argue with doctors can you.

“My underwear too” I said.

“Yes please, I need to examine you down below” he said.

I knew he did but did he have to say so, my stomach crunched as he did. I’d been slowly undoing my blouse buttons has we’d been having this conversation and my snow-white bra was now in sight between the opening sides of the blouse. I pulled the blouse from the skirt and undid the final buttons. All that remained was to undo the cuffs and slip it off over my shoulders and down my arms before hanging it on the hook. Stood there just in bra the chill of the room made goose bumps. I find that is always strange. Doctor’s rooms are always warm, yet I always get the goose bumps and feel the chill. The sheerness of the bra revealed my growing nipples, which made my face flush. I always appear aroused, what must doctors think, that all these women get off on being stripped and humiliated so. I shuddered and shivered at the thought and the false coldness of the room.

I now reached for the button of the skirt around my back. I undid this and pushed down the little zipper. I could hear the nurse still out on the landing obviously looking for the gown. The realisation of the office and outer door being open suddenly made me quiver. I had the thought of some deliveryman just walking in. Absurd I know. The skirt now crackled has it slid down my nylon-clad legs. I stepped out and fold it over my arm and looked for somewhere to put it. There was a chair just outside of the screen, this was the only place for it but it meant leading out slightly. The doctor thankfully was still sitting at the desk back to the screen. Even though shortly he’d be getting a much closure look at me it was still daunting to reach out slightly in just underwear and tights to deposit the skirt on the chair. I caught a glimpse of my upper body in the long mirror as I retreated behind the screen once more. The lingering memory of my reflection seemed to accentuate the erect nature of my nipples and the slight grey triangular tarnish of my snow-white panties.

I breathed again. I could hear the nurse closing up cupboards then I heard her coming back into the waiting room closing the outer office door. Jackson began a conversation with her.

“There not very fetching” Jackson said.

“There not meant to be the height of fashion” the nurse said.

“Still you’d think after….what?.....100 years they’d have come up with a better design” Jackson said.

“Well it dose its job” the nurse said.

“When I where them their never big enough” Jackson said flirting.

“Oh really” the nurse said, then, “Your married”.

“Happily, but I can still flirt. You’ll need a larger size than that” Jackson said indicating the bust of the young nurse.

“Its not for me its for your sister. It will fit well enough” the nurse said and I could hear her now moving towards the door.

Whilst I’d been listening to that conversation I’d inserted my thumbs and pushed the tights down my legs and stepped out of them. Now feeling even more vulnerable just in underwear but a little happier strangely because I was nearly finished undressing. As I said earlier it’s the transition that makes me anxious rather than the being nude. Although I’m not to keen on that either. Has the nurse re-entered the room I was reaching to remove my bra. Having already placed the tights on the chair. I saw the expression on her face as she caught my retreating body.

The telephone rang and the nurse said, “I’ll get it” and I heard her deposit the robe somewhere before leaving to answer the phone. My bra was now open at the rear. (It was the next poor victim asking for direction.) I was stood in open bra and panties fidgeting. Not sure if I should continue or not. I looked around and now noticed my reflection in the long mirror. I hadn’t noticed it before when I was busy undressing. I stepped back further into the screen. I could see myself; especially my nude back the bra being undone and I could see the doctor at the desk. My stomach twisted at the thought of him watching me undress. I pushed the thought from my mind. He was a professional he wouldn’t look. He was to busy making notes anyway. Besides shortly he was to have a ringside seat. I now noticed the gown just past the chair on the little side table. My thoughts where interrupted by the doctor.

“Are you undressed yet Mrs Gladstone” the doctor said has he came up from crouching over the desk and turned towards the screen. I stepped back like some furtive spy caught peering out from their hiding place.

“No, not yet, I’ve not got the gown yet” I said.

“Oh, I do apologise” he said getting up and reaching for the gown and picking it up and bringing it to the opening.

“I’m still not undress,” I said, “I’ve still got my bra and pants on” I said kicking myself for giving more information than I needed to.

“I’ll leave it here” the doctor said putting it over the screen top and then he moved back to the desk. I watched him (peering over the top of the screen like some child over a wall of a hidden garden more interesting than my own) return to his seat and start to read some letters.

I now pulled the bra clear of my body, turned to place it over the hook and looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was covering my bare breasts. I removed my hands and looked at my nipples, which responded to the nakedness, chill, and self-reflection. I tossed the bra out onto the chair, instead of reaching out to place it on the chair and it slid to the floor. That made me quince the thought of people seeing my discard clothes always seemed dirtier, more naughty than them seeing them on me. Sense now flooded back in and I turned away presenting my rear view to the mirror. I now decided that speed was essential. I slipped off the panties and in the bent position thought of the view the doctor would have if he looked in the mirror. I now quickly stood and turned around covering my black pubes as I cast the panties onto the chair. I had to remove my protective covering to maintain my balance giving anyone looking at that moment a quick full frontal. Thankfully there was no one looking. After dressing in the gown, I realised, sitting on the exam table, that for a few seconds before I stepped back behind and up to the screen to pull the gown off the back of the screen he’d have had the chance to see me full frontal nude again. I shivered, and at that moment the nurse entered my area from the wall side of the screen.

“Are you cold” she asked.

“Oh! No! Just apprehensive” I said not wanting to elaborate on my thoughts.

“Soon be done now. I’ll do the preliminaries then the doctor will do the internals and that’s it!” she said.

That’s it! I thought.

She took a thermometer off the trolley and presented it to my mouth. “Open wide and pop it under your tongue” she said. I open and allowed her to insert the glass tube into my mouth under my tongue. I didn’t know about you but I hate that sensation of the little bulb pushed in, nestling under your tongue. I begin to worry about it cracking. I get this funny urge to bite it.

The nurse rolled up the gown’s right sleeve and began to wrap a blood pressure cuff around my upper arm. “This may be a little uncomfortable but it doesn’t hurt” she said pulling the cuff tight and hurting me. Well not really hurting me but causing the usual nip of skin. She pumped the cuff up and then used the stethoscope to listen to see if I had any pressure left in me, feeling very faint about now. “That’s fine, a little up but that’s common in the circumstances” she said. She now stepped to the side of me and I could see my full reflection in the mirror, she’d push the screen to make more room. She took my pulse and measured my breathing rate. “That should be done now” she said taking hold of the thermometer and I released the lip pressure holding it in. She checked the temperature and said, “That’s fine” shaking the thermometer and replacing it in the tray.

She now picked up a tube. I was instantly worried where it was going having never seen one before and realising in was rather wide. She offered it up to my mouth and said, “Blow as hard as you can and don’t stop until I say” I placed the tube in my mouth and blow very hard. “Okay” she said and I stopped blowing and she removed the tube. “Good set of lungs” she said. Prior to my lapse into alcoholism I’d been a very keen athlete and fitness fantastic. I was just now getting back into the swing of it.

“Okay let’s have you here” the nurse said. I slipped off the table the gown riding up and for a moment I saw the bottom of my patch in the mirror. Thankfully the nurse was turned away from me and the doctor was still at the desk studying letters.

I stood against the wall ensuring that the gown was down in place. The open back meant that the skin of my bottom and upper back touch the cold wall and made me jump.

“You okay” the nurse asked.

“Yes. The wall was cold,” I said.

“Yes these open back gowns are not very warm when there’s a draft about” she said.

It was more what they reveal that worried me.

She measured my height then asked me to step onto the old fashion scales next to me. This meant that she would now have the possibility of seeing my bared back. Has I stood there I could feel the gown flapping. I looked over to the doctor he was still sat back to me. The nurse was to my side playing with the balance so I was pretty sure that if anything could be seen she couldn’t see it. The problem was not knowing if I was exposed or not.

“Okay. A little heavy than you should be” the nurse said.

I’d piled the weight on in the last year. I’d lost a stone in the last 8 weeks living with Jackson and Jessie. Healthy eating, exercise, and no alcohol.

“We are ready for you now doctor” the nurse said.

He came up from reading the letters and stood smiling then crossing to me slowly like a judge preparing to pass sentence. Then he did. “I’m going to exam your chest first. You’ll have to go to the local hospital for a chest x-ray to complete the exam but I will make the arrangements for you” he said.

I nodded.

“Then we’ll examine your breast for signs of any lumps. Okay” he said.

Okay I nodded. No it wasn’t okay but did I have any choice.

“Then I am going to exam your back passage for signs of polyps or fistulas” he said. I didn’t know what they where but I was sure I didn’t have any nor did I want them by the sounds of them.

“Oh” I said involuntarily.

“You will be fine, no pain just a little uncomfortable. I’m sure you are in fine health but after your recent drinking problem we need to check” he said.

He smiled. I smiled. The nurse smiled. I just died.

“Then we’ll do a smear test and a quick pelvic, and we are done” he said.

I’d have preferred that he had just carried out the sentence rather than announcing it first. I wondered momentarily what was worse. Doing five years or being told you where going to do five years.

“Shall we begin” he said.

The nurse reached for the ties of my gown and pulled them loses. This allowed it to drop slightly. The doctor warmed his stethoscope by breathing on it and placed it on my back. I straighten slightly at the cold touch. “Breath-in, hold, breath-out”. He moved the stethoscope to the other side. “Breath-in, hold, breath-out” He repeated the process this time asking me to cough. He then sound the front of my chest above my breast, thankfully they where still concealed. I noticed my reflection in the mirror has he moved back and forth slightly to reveal me to the looking glass world beyond the mirror.

“Now to exam your breast. I will arrange for you to have a mammogram and ultrasound test as well but I’m sure you will be fine” he reassured me. The news sank heavy in my stomach more revelations of my body to strangers.

The nurse pulled down the gown and he cupped the underside of my left then right breast. Then both together giving them a little bounce has he did. “Do you carry out your own breast exams frequently?” he asked.

“No” I said.

“I’ll give you some literature. You should exam your breasts at least monthly” he said continuing to jiggle my breasts making me feel very self-conscious and wondering what he thought of them as a man. No banish that thought, I thought.

He had moved on now to pawing and kneading my breasts like unleavened bread. Before thumbing my erect nipples that took me by surprise and made them swell. It was as if there was some invisible sinus from them to my clitoris since I could feel its long track and the need to pee grow. No doctor had ever done that before. But then I’d never had such a physical since my conception problems and times change.

“Fine, quite healthy. Would you stand now and bend over the table please” he said.

The nurse held the gown’s untied ties has I slipped off the table, the gown riding up. Needing my hands to guide me off the high table safely there was no protective covering for my black bush that came to view. I could tell that the nurse had seen it in the mirror. I turned to bend over the table. The doctor thankfully had turned his back to me. But this was only an illusion of safety since he was making snapping noises. I’d have prefer to stand naked in front of 100 strange men than hear those noises of imminent dome.

I saw him turn back holding his hands up in a surgeon’s stance the rubber gloves clearly on his hands.

The nurse pulled the gown away from my bottom and I blushed deepest red. They both now had a uninterrupted view of my bottom. “Just relax Mrs Gladstone” he said taking up the tube of KY and lubricating his right index finger. He then parted my bum cheeks with his left thumb and first finger. I felt the tip of his right index then a little circular motion has he spread the KY then a little push, “Relax”, then in it went. I closed my eyes and just imaging the scene. Then horror struck me. The scene would be being played out in the mirror. Then a worse thought hit me. The door was still open. Jackson would be hearing all the details. My stomach sank. I wanted to cry out, “Hey my brother-in-law can hear all this” but I had not the courage. I just suffered the thought that he would know everything that happened to me.

The doctor pulled out his finger after twisting it around for a few times and a few false hopes of removal which where followed by a renewed insertion. “That’s that” he said finally his finger already being out but feeling as though it was still in me. He returned to me as I began to stand, “Just a moment Mrs Gladstone” he said causing me to lower myself back down, “I’ll wipe you clean” and with that he used a tissue to remove the excess KY.

“Right nurse if you can put the stirrups up and get Mrs Gladstone ready please” the doctor said.

“Yes Doctor” came the nurse’s earnest and unsympathetic reply.

She reached out to the foot of the table and pulled up the outside stirrup click-chunking it into place. She then rounded the end of the table and pulled up the stirrup at the wall side, click-chunk into place. In silence I turned my back to the table and used my hands to push myself up onto it. The gown raising slightly, panic hitting me, why could I not remember that this action led to my naked bush being exhibited? Now on the table I pulled the gown down. The nurse moved to my side and assisted me into position and then to lie down. “Shuffle down a little bit please Mrs Gladstone” the nurse asked. I shuffled down and she took hold of my left foot and placed it in the outside stirrup. She then went to the foot of the table and placed my right foot in the other stirrup. “Shuffle a little more please, that’s it, a bit more, thank you that’s fine” said the nurse now pleased with my position.

“Ready doctor” she called.

I heard him stand and the sound of his clothing against his skin as he crossed to me. “Right nearly done. Ah, thank you nurse” he said as she moved the trolley with implements placed ready on it to his hand. He redressed his hands in latex. He now took hold of a large white paper bag filled with something heavy. He ripped it open and revealed the shinning metal which was soon to be in me. He coated the speculum and then with a smile he said, “This will be a little uncomfortable, but it doesn’t hurt. Have you had one before”? I nodded he smiled. He inserted the speculum and it filled me. The cold metal caused a light spasm. It was then triggered open, which caused me to feel opened to the world, as if I was the entry to some road tunnel. He then picked up a white paper strip; he tore it and revealed the end of a smear stick. I’d expected this; I now closed my eyes and soon felt it circling my cervix. “There all done” he said, still leaving the speculum in for a moment until its trigger was released and it closed. The speculum clanked onto the trolley.

“Just a quick digital Mrs Gladstone and we are done and you can get dressed”, he said. I waited for what seemed like forever then, “Breath in Mrs Gladstone” and his finger was inside of me. A quick check around then that inevitable extra moment. I always wonder about that. Is it sadness of having to pull out their finger or is it an extra none medical exam. The finger now out I felt it was safe to open my eyes again.

The nurse cleaned me up down below and gave me a few tissues. She helped me out of the stirrups, and then took the tissues I just used to further clean myself. I pushed the gown down and slowly swung myself into a seated position legs over the side of the table.

“You can get dressed now” said the nurse.

The screen had been pushed back. I stood and looked at it but the nurse and the doctor seemed too busy to notice. I crossed to the chair and picked up my panties. The back of the gown gaping open, revealed my bum cheeks in the mirror. I slipped the panties back on then looked around quickly before discarding the gown. The doctor was back seated at his desk scribbling into my file the nurse was just about to wheel out the trolley.

“Oh sorry” the nurse said indicating the lack of screen, “Well you seem to have managed” and with that she set off with the trolley for the waiting room. I shuddered at the thought of Jackson seeing the speculum that was quite clearly on show. He’d know for sure where it had been, oh, no!

I realised that a those few seconds I been stood there near naked, well topless. My breasts, well the side of them anyway, clearly on show in the mirror. I grabbed for my bra which was still on the floor at the side of the chair. This made my 34 c breasts fall away from my chest to hang down. Clearly revealing them to the mirror. I picked the bra up and put it back on. Somewhat happy now to be covered but still not content. The light cotton bra showed my obviously aroused state and the panties revealed my black bush beneath. I’d have to remember this in future not that I plan any more medicals soon.

I next picked up the skirt and placed it on the side table so that I could sit to put my tights on. These always seem to be more a foe then a friend. Nylon always seemed to scream look here so potential nakedness. I was soon sat there in underwear and nylons wish that somehow you could just go from naked to dress by some sought of magic.

I now reached and replaced my blouse, this to makes you extra sexy. The thought of what lies quite available beneath seems to drive men wild I’ve noticed. Decent ladies don’t drive men wild I thought and hurry to replace my skirt. It took some time to do all the buttons so I contented myself with the lower ones so I could get the skirt on then finished off as I slipped into my heels. The nurse return and helped me into my jacket and handed me my bag.

“Mrs Gladstone is ready to leave doctor” the nurse said.

He turned from his writing and stood and took the short step to shake my hand, “You are in good health and I’ll recommend you for the scheme. The drinking doesn’t seem to have done you any harm. Take this to the hospital and they’ll take some blood. They’ll right to you in the next couple of days for your x-ray and mammogram” he said.

I took the form and thanked him, the nurse showing me out to Jackson in the waiting room. He was sat there with that grin on his face. I blushed immediately. He’d heard, and seen the evidence. He was going to say something, sometime, I just knew it.

We sat there in the car still stationary. I was collecting my thoughts still.

Jackson spoke first, “It seemed a very through exam” he said.

“Yes” I said then looking at him, “How much did you hear through the open door”.

“Everything. I hope you weren’t to embarrassed by that” he said.

I wasn’t going to admit to thinking about it. “Well at least it was audio only” I said trying to comfort myself feeling a little turned on by the idea. I was still feeling unsatisfied from the doctors touch.

Jackson smiled. A strange smile I thought. I looked at him questioningly. He smiled again.

“The mirror” was all he said, my orgasm explode like a volcano has he pointed out to Jessie later.