[driftwood3791]

Part 5: (the Final Part)

Again, he inserted his index finger all the way, rotated, and massaged around her clitoral hood with his thumb. He began rotating in all directions as he massaged her labia as well with this thumb.

"How does that feel?" He asked, sitting up straight again. It seemed, at least to me, that he was not looking into my wife's eyes but rather at her pillowy, exposed breast.

"At first, it hurt. But now, it feels almost nice and yet it is still uncomfortable in a strange way." She answered tensely. "The Slippery Stuff is quite silky, isn't it? Rather lovely, that!"

He smiled and nodded in agreement, but said nothing. He continued massaging in small circles, making the folds of her labia wave back and forth. He started to slowly thrust his index finger in and out of her vagina, whilst still performing the labial thumb circles. Was it my imagination, or did I notice an almost imperceptible rocking of my wife's hips? I definitely heard the table paper crinkle in tempo with his finger thrusts. Her breathing slowed rhythmically, and she had closed her eyes. There was a slight- ever so slight- smirk forming in the corner of her mouth. It almost seemed like she was enjoying getting finger-fucked by her doctor in front of her husband and the nurse! An out-of-sync rustling of paper caught my attention. My wife had stopped trying to cover her drap_ed breasts and was now gripping the padded sides of the exam table. Her paper gown had slid open to both sides and her soft breasts were swaying and jiggling in all directions. Her pale silver-dollar areolae quickly shriveled and darkened into deep mauve ovals as her eraser-tip nipples got rock hard and long... strikingly so.

The doctor slowly removed his finger, which made a surprisingly wet slurping sound, and told me it was my turn. I inserted my finger, rotated, and massaged around her clitoris and labia. Her breathing increased in a disturbed manner. Once again, I was hurting her. I slowed down the circles, barely touching her labia with an almost feather's pressure. No joy, it was too uncomfortable for her. I was told to stop. I never got to finger-fuck her pussy like the doctor had. She simply preferred his touch mine. Damn and blast it all!

The appointment wrapped up in a conspicuously rapid manner. The nurse helped my wife clean off some residual lube which had splattered in surprising directions, as the doctor and I put the rolling stools away. Things seemed suddenly rushed. Perhaps he realised the next patient had been waiting a while- perhaps.

"Just keep practising that technique every other day, with a day of rest in between," he instructed. "The nurse will get you more samples of Slippery Stuff when you leave." She nodded in acknowledgement. "I'd like to see you back in 6 months for a pap and pelvic. We can see how 'things' have progressed as well after the pap. In the meantime, if anything worsens due to this technique I showed you today, call my office. Is the next patient ready in Room 2, nurse?" The nurse nodded, opened the door to leave, and he stood up. That's when I noticed the bulge in his trousers.

I helped my wife quickly dress and we all left the exam room. The nurse got us the samples from a supply closet. Instead of going to the next exam room though, the doctor disappeared somewhere. That was when I came to the realisation that he might have stepped out to wank in private after therap_eutically finger-fucking my wife and gawking at her exposed breasts.

Later that evening, I asked her about his technique. She insisted she had been trying to relax, that's all. She confessed there were some soothing, non-erotic sensations when he massaged her labia with his thumb. But she added that his thrusting-finger technique was still too uncomfortable for her. When I asked about my technique, she got very quiet.

"It hurt when you did the same," she admitted "even though you were rather more gentle." I asked her why she didn't cover up her breasts during the desensitisation fingering. She claimed she was concentrating on the pain and didn't realise they were exposed until after. I wasn't convinced, but I kept those doubts to myself.

For several years, her exams seemed more routine and typical. Then later, the exams gradually became informal and more intimate, as recalled in my previous confession.

(Fin!)