[driftwood3791]

*** I submit the following, per the request of some members here on OCC, who kindly expressed an interest in reading more about these gyno visitations. A gentle reminder, my friends: Once again, as in the previous confession, a few insignificant details have been altered to protect our privacy as well as the privacy of our doctor and his family. We live in a small town, and those details could possibly make us all identifiable and therefore very vulnerable. Apart from that, the following confession is true. ***

Part 1:

My wife had been seeing her new gynaecological pain specialist for several years at this point. Her doctor was trying to pinpoint exactly what was causing her pain, which had, at that point, been elusive. Given that my wife and I were sexually inexperienced, he began to suspect the culprit to be my technique- or rather my lack of technique. He thought that perhaps if she became accustomed to my manually probing around her delicates, she might relax and therefore become desensitised to the pain. He explained all of this thoroughly to us both, and proceeded with my wife's consent.

Normally during these gyno exams, I would stand at the head of the exam table, holding my wife's hand in support, intermittently kissing her forehead and trying desperately to keep her relaxed with gentle coaching. This time, I would be "playing doctor" as he put it with a sly smirk on his face. I scrubbed up and tried to put on surgical gloves nonchalantly. I was rather nervous so I failed, of course. The first glove, pulled quickly onto my fingers, decided to mutiny so it shot a few feet away as if in some naughty Benny Hill skit! The second glove, stretched beyond capacity over my palm, tore in several places as I tried to pull it on. He and his nurse finally helped me with fresh gloves.

He pulled up a second stool for me, and we both sat down shoulder-to-shoulder, between my wife's legs. He explained the anatomy of female genitalia. (I was already reasonably familiar, but he was such a fatherly gentle man, I just nodded like a naïve pupil.) He explained the potential importance of labial symmetry, of the health of pubic hair as an indicator of certain illnesses as he raked his fingers through it and tenderly tugged at a few tufts. He had me manually repeat every motion he did. All the while, my wife was peering down at us as she struggled to keep her rolling breasts covered under the paper gown. I raised my head a bit to get a clear view of her face, as her pubic hair obstructed my view of her eyes. I gave her a playful, concessive "well, what are ya' gonna do" shrug and she actually started to giggle a bit.

"You too really shouldn't be flirting during this!" He teased as he winked at his smiling nurse. "Perhaps we should start with the exam. The sexual tension in here is palpable!"

(To be continued in Part 2...)