Humiliated in the End by Nikita
Soccer mom, sex toys, and viagra, humiliation at the gynecologist's
Her birthday is October 1. Nikita feels like a woman half her age. Any mention
of her birthday puts her in an a state of torment because she doesn't like that
kind of attention. At this point in her life, she would love to get a clit
piercing, but it is a pipe dream for her. Always the pragmatist, she dreads the
raised eyebrows and flurry of lectures at the gynecologist's office.
She regularly corresponds with a male friend and as always, is as blunt as a
hammer about everything. This is the birthday email.
G:
It is Friday morning, my eyes are half open. Coffee sets in motion what mother
nature takes it's time to do, heh, heh.
Kick off the day music, gets the blood going. . .
Let's Get Party Started by the ever exciting Pink
"Pumping up the volume, breakin down to the beat. . ."
Today, I have my annual pussy checkup. There will be plenty of time in the
waiting room to ponder about the number fifty. I remember my last annual check
up with him. He's about my age, piercing blues peering out from behind glinted
eyeglasses. He has a bedside manner without being overt; he doesn't have to.
Maybe it's just me.
It felt a little kinky when the gynecologist first unveiled my bald, puffy, pink
lips, a woman in the full bloom of menopause. He quickly moved to the clinical
phase, where the well lubed, rubber gloved hand was deftly inserted in my warm,
moist, silky sheath and tight asshole at the same time. Nothing new for him,
right? I think gynecologists invented the six-pack method. You know what I
mean? The same technique used examine a woman is used to pick up a six pack of
beer. Think about that next time you go to the liquor store.
"I'll be burnin' rubber, you'll be kissin' my ass; Pull up to the bumper, get
out of the car. . ."
When I'm on that table, I close my eyes, block out the clinical surroundings and
try to focus on other things, like paying bills, making dinner, carpooling the
kids to soccer; similar to men trying to keep from having a hard on at
inappropriate times. Why do you think doctors wear long white coats at work?
"I'm your operator, you can call anytime. I'll be your connection to the party
line" (singing loud by now)
Menopause: What you didn't know.
There's a lot of things women and their husbands don't know about menopause. On
the up side, it can be a shot of sexual adrenaline for the woman, especially
combined with hormone replacement therapy. Hormonal upswings cause some women
to feel like nymphomaniacs, which, by now, is a long gone feeling. In order to
cope with the sudden urges, some play a lot of tennis, take cold showers, and
invest in vibrators. Others write dirty stories and visit their gynecologist
often, especially if he looks like mine. I don't think most of my lady friends
would admit this, so, I keep it to myself. I live in the Bible belt, where
shame is a virtue.
If God was on top of his game, some husbands wouldn't be on the downside of
their sex life when their wives are on the upswing. Well, they're not really on
the downside, just their dicks. The word is, they get horny and hard, but they
can't stay hard, at least not long enough for their wives. However brief this
period is, the need for Viagra and Levitra is as necessary as vitamins. After a
time, the cock gets a second lease on life and wants to play catch up; a
phenomena similar to "the weekend athlete." The younger, greedier men take
Cialis. (I'd love to see the results of that on my husband.) Another category
of mature men are the "life time fuckers." These guys have possessed hard ons
from the time they were sucking on their mommy's titties until well into their
80s. (I would also like to see one of these guys before I die.) Mind you, I've
read all this. It's not my personal experience or opinion. And, I'm not asking
if you have experienced menopause either. ROLF
School on Cialis
As we are in the "normal" stage of mid-life crisis, my husband paid a rare visit
to his doctor to take care of business. When he returned, I was given school on
Viagra, Levitra, and Cialis.
"Cialis? What's that?"
"It's the new recreational drug of choice in Hollywood."
He's in the know, a real insider, heh, heh.
"Going to Hollywood?"
Well, he is handsome for an older guy, and vulnerable so I was "stroking."
"And not just in Hollywood. Younger guys who want to fuck the whole weekend pop
Cialis, then, anything's a target."
This perked my interest.
"Got yours?"
He rolled his eyes.
There was a bagful of Viagra and Levitra samples on the table. Too bad he's is
a little thrifty.
"Want to go test them out?"
"Nah, let's save them for later."
That's when I wanted to take his scrawny neck and bang his head a couple of
times on the kitchen table. You know what I mean.
I've broken two Hitachi wands in twelve months. Two wands costs as much as a
bottle of Viagra. Now that's thrifty! The wand has saved my marriage. It's
ready when you are, it stays hard as long as you want, and it gives the most
explosive orgasms. But, its not the same as the husband I trained.
For my birthday, I'm going to pop for the Cialis.
"I'm comin' up so you better get this party started"
Coffee kicked in, appointment in one hour, gotta run. Good coffee, that.
Talk to you later.
Nikita
G:
It's later.
Had a rough ride this morning. Thought I'd get some writing done before going to
the gynecologist. I got pretty worked up after writing a few paragraphs.
(Method acting techniques really work for writing.) Needless to say, the ride
to the pussy doctor was a daydream delight.
I brought along a paperback collection of erotic short stories. It was a new
one that I hadn't had the time to read yet. It's an inspiring book really. A
quick read, the stories are just long enough for a trip to the bathroom, but,
the wrong book to bring to the gynecologist's office.
The waiting time was about an hour or so. I was squirming in my seat as the book
was burning in my hand. The pages were hot and the stories were right up my
alley. (Notice the metaphors here?) I had seepage. After several trips to the
bathroom, I had to stuff my panties with paper towels. You would think this
flurry to cover up evidence would distract me while I disrobed for the
examination. But, noooo, my body still betrayed me, dammit.
"Hello, Mrs. XXXXX, how are you today?"
I was sweating but hoped he didn't notice.
"Fine and you?"
He looked the same, handsome and distant.
"Very busy. Please inch toward the end of the table and spread a little wider."
Not the first time I've heard that, but not with the same effect. He spent a
few minutes fiddling around and finally, inserted the cold speculum; all this
peppered with a lot of "sorry(s)". Unfortunately, it did little to quell the
heat.
"Mrs. XXXXX, did you recently fall down a flight of stairs or something?"
Oh no! Forgot about the bruises from the flogging session a few days ago.
"Uh, yes, I did. But I'm ok."
He accepted this without comment and continued touching my bum gently. He moved
to the business end.
"Hmm, what have we here? A little yeast infection?"
Was that a little sarcasm in his voice?
"Well, I, uh, didn't think so."
"You're very moist."
My face felt red and beaded with perspiration.
"And your skin looks very red and irritated."
There was definitely a slight inflection in his voice.
"Nurse, let's take a culture of this."
Shit!
I leaned to the left to see him take a long swab. As it disappeared under the
paper tent, I felt the most delicate of maneuvers in my "hoo hoo." After a
minute, my bud pulsed.
The doctor put his hands on his thighs and instructed me to stay in the open V
position while the smirking nurse took off with the specimen. My "moist" nether
regions felt the coolness of the air conditioner. He was enjoying this
humiliation as much as I was hating it. (or was I?) He whistled while he busied
himself with notes on a pad.
"Mrs. XXXXX, here's a prescription for cream to rub on your skin irritation.
Apply twice a day until the tube is finished."
"Yes, doctor."
I sighed with relief at not being discovered. He made a few more notes on my
chart and turned to scold me, with his finger pointed like a schoolmaster at an
unruly student.
"No more toys or hanging off the chandeliers for two weeks!"
I heard him chuckle outside the door. It took me fifteen minutes to get myself
together and slither out of the office unnoticed.
It's true, I swear.
Nikita
