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From: Bawdy Bloke <nospam@bawdybloke.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} My favourite doctor (MF-hand)
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Date: Sun, 31 Aug 2014 07:10:04 -0400
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A man is reunited with his childhood friend years after they last met.

This is taken from my blog at
http://bawdybloke.com/story-favourite-doctor/
* * * * *
"I did warn you."

They weren't as I remembered; her prominent bosom looked so touchable: 
adorably pert and incredibly kissable. Her cheeky smile and mischievous 
grin were exactly as I recalled. I stared up into her eyes just as I did 
all those years ago.

We weren't even teenagers then. She had a tree-house away from the 
prying eyes of our parents and she would insist on her role playing 
games. Nurse and patient, super cop catching an errant shoplifter, super 
spy with a villain. Her tree house, her rules, her games.

The nurse and patient was her favourite though; I'd be a poorly citizen 
and Poppy would work her magic on me. She liked doing that. I had to 
wear the patient's gown, naked underneath. I'd refuse initially, but 
she'd insist on the nudity and I could never really resist Poppy. She 
was my best friend, and she always demanded nudity, whatever role we 
played. If I wasn't a patient, she strip-searched me as a shoplifter or 
villain. And then coo delightfully as every reason involved intimate 
examination of my pubic area.

If I had a bad cough, it would be problems with my "willy." Headache was 
my cock too. Knee trouble, testicles. She loved to play and examine me; 
I got used to it. It went further, it was fun. We dated as teenagers but 
she ended it before we left for different universities. A decade ago.

I did not expect her to be topless while staring over my hospital bed. "Eh?"

"I did warn you," she replied smirking gleefully. "I said if you don't 
do something about that shin bone you'll have trouble in later life."

"You made that assessment looking at my ... prick."

"And look how accurate my diagnosis was; you've broken your shin!"

"I was involved in a bike accident. It could have happened to anyone."

"But it happened to you ... you were concussed too!"

"Yeah. I'm seeing you with your norks out." She giggled, as she always 
used to giggle, a mischievous laugh that barely concealed a scheming 
plan. I used to adore her laughter; I heard it so much when we were kids.

"You're not that badly concussed then!"

"Eh?" She gulped as her eyes flicked towards the locked door of my 
private room and she pulled the curtains closed around the bed.

"I'm going to examine you ... check everything's working." Her eyes 
studied me for a moment, reading into my expression as the duvet was 
pushed from my gown-covered body. She pushed up the light blue fabric to 
my chest, licking her lips as her eyes slipped over my plaster cast and 
along my hairy thighs.

Butterflies danced in my stomach: this was a reawakening of old games, 
and a return to my teenage years. This was the girl who stole my 
virginity and innocence, showed me what love was and broke my heart. It 
was a step down memory lane.

"Oooh, haven't we grown." She rubbed some gel into her fingers and 
ghosted over my swelling dick, flinching under her touch as she pulled 
the foreskin back, and rubbed the top of my glans. "Doesn't feel like 
there's any damage. But we better make sure."

I was silent, desperately unsure and yet incredibly excited by her. Her 
eyes glanced at mine; fiery, passionate, playful. Every bit the same 
Poppy as before, and I wanted to see how far she would take her role play.

"Yes?" She enquired silently with her eyes, increasing the pressure on 
her circling fingers. I tore my eyes away from her, not wanting her to 
see my lust for her games. I never used to look at her, focusing on the 
white painted wall of her tree house as she examined me, played with me, 
touched me and ripped away my naivety.

Her fingers swept moistness over my shaft: firm strokes sliding joyously 
over my prick that had me teetering on the brink of my orgasm. I stared 
at the health poster on the wall, desperately trying to not look at 
Poppy's handjob disguised as an intimate examination.

"I think we're nearly done." Her nonchalant attitude stoked a greater 
fire: causing me to grunt and whimper as I panted. My peak approached, 
my body squirmed. I bucked my hips to meet her hand, my cock sliding 
through her lubricated grip with wanton desperation. That peak 
approached, I rampantly thrust my cock as fast as I could manage before 
the first squirt landed on her bare arm. A few more streaks of cum 
adorned my body as I took deep breaths and melted into the mattress.

"Doesn't seem to be any lasting damage," she giggled as she reached for 
the sink to wash her hands.

"Not want to continue your inspection?" I cheekily asked, watching my 
first girlfriend reach for the paper towels and pass me some. "I'm sure 
you never used to stop after five minutes. Or was that private practice 
and this is NHS now!"

"Maybe later," she muttered. "Takes me back this does. You're the main 
reason I got into medicine." She giggled as she tucked her hair behind 
her ear. "And you're the only patient I've ever had where I've done ... 
intimate checks."

"Ahh but it still hurts, Doctor!"

"Then I recommend a private appointment," she airily announced, slipping 
her uniform over her shoulders.

"I thought you were married."

"Divorced," she snapped as she fastened her outfit into respectability. 
"How about tomorrow night?"

"Sure. In your tree house?"

"Yeah ... why not! Bring your hospital gown. We could have some fun!"

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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