Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: JojoMojo
Title: Is There a Doctor in the House?
Part: 1
Universe: Doctor
Summary: An avowed bachelor takes a trip down memory lane to a time when
"playing doctor" was a regular pastime.  He is surprised by the results of
a slip of the tongue.
Keywords: Mg, mild pedo, cons
   The following is completely and without a doubt a fictional account, 100
percent fantasy.  That said, as I write, I reflect on the things that I
experienced as a child, what felt good and what did not.  Those experiences
had a profound effect, and for the most part, I look back on them fondly.
   Caring, fun, ecstasy is what I'm interested in, for all involved, or
it's not worth doing or writing about.
   Copyright (C)2014 by the author
   IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE?  - The Secret Room
   by JojoMojo
   Mg, mild pedo, cons
   Olivia was painfully shy.
   She had olive skin and an inquisitive face framed with straight, dark
brown hair that cascaded past her shoulders, the sides pulled back into a
fancy braid that twined around her head.  Each time he saw her, it seemed
the braid was different, a variation on the theme, sometimes doubled,
sometimes a braid inside a braid.  He had commented on the new braid once
and her mother smiled and said that she picked them from Pinterest with
Olivia's help each Sunday evening.
   She was a little small for her age of ten years.  Her body was slender,
but retained enough baby fat in her hips and chest to gave the semblance of
curves.  Wide set, dark brown eyes drew him to her, twinkling with an
expressiveness that made up for her lack of words, hinting at the
intelligence that lay locked inside.  It was those eyes that initially
pulled him in and filled him with a desire to crack through her shyness.
   Two years ago, Greg, his best friend from college, had moved to his home
town to live along with his wife, Jennifer and eight year old Olivia. 
Jennifer took pity on her husband's avowed bachelor friend and made it her
duty to ensure that he had at least one home cooked meal each week.  The
meals were served in the sturdy Midwestern style frame home, built in the
late 1800's, that they had purchased.  It was two square stories, with a
deep front porch with large columns framing a leaded glass door.  The
beveled glass formed the glow from within into hundreds of lights twinkling
a welcome, drawing the visitor up the steps and to the old-fashioned hand
cranked bell.
   They had shared over twenty meals, almost six months worth, before Jason
heard Olivia's voice.  Until that day she gazed at him from her seat across
the table, but never uttered a word.  There were times when he looked up
from his plate and into her eyes, causing her to blush and look quickly at
her plate.  Sometimes she would hold his gaze for a few seconds before
looking away.  Those stolen glances made him feel that there was a little
girl trapped somewhere inside, desperate to make a connection but afraid to
try.
   She had taken to playing silently at his feet in the living room after
dinner while the adults shared the events that had shaped the previous
week. That night she had disappeared for a while, returning to her place by
his chair with an antique porcelain doll resplendent in a silk dress.  He
was taken by the beauty of the doll, with a realistic glow painted on her
cheeks, cherry red lips and long wavy hair.
   Without thinking, he slipped from the chair, knelt and touched Olivia's
shoulder.  "She's beautiful," he said, stating the obvious while he stared
at the doll.
   Olivia looked up at him her eyes aglow and replied in a quiet but
confident voice, "Her name is Anna.  She has real hair."
   The almost whispered statement was the sum total of their conversation
that week.  But the following week, she had brought out another toy and
upon his comment, shared a short description.  From there, she slowly
opened up until now, two years later he could honestly say that they had
true conversations.
   Jennifer commented frequently on how grateful she was for Jason's
patience, slowly drawing Olivia out of her shell.  She was still a girl of
few words, but through carefully placed questions, he began to know her as
more than his friend's nearly mute daughter.
   What he found as he peeled back the layers was an intelligent little
girl who desperately wanted to fit in, but lacked the social skills to do
so.  When he arrived for dinner each week, she displayed what could only be
described as carefully contained excitement when she greeted him at the
door.
   Greg once told him that on the days when he was coming for dinner, she
constantly checked the front walk from the window in the living room, but
wouldn't admit that she was looking for him.  It was as if she was afraid
to concede that she was excited he was coming over.
   Even though their friendship had grown, her announcement at dinner that
she wanted to show Jason her "secret place" caught him by surprise.  He was
delighted by this new development.  Greg had told him how Olivia discovered
a room in the attic and begged to be allowed to make it her own private
play room.  Her parents acquiesced and Olivia's "secret place" came into
being.  From Greg's description it looked like it had been used as a
bedroom at one time.
   After dinner, Olivia took his hand and led him past the entryway, to the
wide staircase.  As they mounted the oak stairs, her mother called out
reminding her to close the door so the cold air from the main attic would
not invade the rest of the house.
   "My secret place is heated," she said matter of factly as their feet
clomped up the hardwood stairs, "just not the rest of the attic."
   Once in the hallway of the second floor she stopped at a door that was
next to an old fashioned telephone alcove, complete with an old rotary
phone.  She dropped his hand and used both of hers to turn the large iron
knob.  As she pulled the door open, she looked up at him with eyes
twinkling.  The warm air from the hall rushed past them and up the stairs.
He felt the cool air of the attic sliding past his feet, as if anxious to
take over the lower floors.
   She stepped up into the darkness and onto the first narrow stair, turned
an ancient switch and with a click, lights blinked on somewhere above,
casting a glow down the stairs.  She looked up the stairs, then back at
him, motioning him to join her.  Once he had squeezed past her to the
second step, Olivia turned and reached into the hall, pulling the door
closed.  She stepped past him purposefully and he followed her up the
winding stair case; four steps, then a turn, another four steps and a turn;
four short, steep flights in all, winding around the central chimney to the
attic.
   They stepped off the stairs into a large room filled with the detritus
of generations.  Greg had mentioned that when they first moved in he was
amazed to find an attic full of items left by the previous family who had
lived in the house since it was built.  Jason was surprised that Olivia
didn't find the attic scary as the bare bulbs cast strange shadows over the
draped furniture and boxes piled around the room.
   She stepped around and behind the massive chimney.  Jason followed and
was surprised to see another door, hidden behind the chimney from the rest
of the attic.  Olivia opened it and held her arms wide in the universal
sign for "how about this?" a smile playing on her lips.
   The room was small, maybe ten by ten, built into the corner of the
attic. There were two gables with small windows, one on each outside wall,
adding additional angles to the sloping ceiling.  Years ago someone had
covered the framing with rough hewn boards that had aged to a warm brown.
The one light in the room cast a soft glow on the furnishings: a huge old
fashioned doll house, a bookshelf filled with books, two chairs and a small
table.  A rag rug covered the floor and a few dolls, including Anna,
carefully arranged in places of honor, finished out the room.
   The moment he saw the room, Jason was overwhelmed with memories and
stood, slack jawed in the doorway, transported to a time when he was
Olivia's age.  The d�j� vu had started quietly as they walked up the attic
stairs and it came on full force when she opened the door to the small
room. His best friend had grown up in a similar house and they spent hours
in an attic room that could have been this one's double.
   His friend's mother never came farther than the door in the hallway
below, shouting up to them when it was time to come down.  The fact that
anyone coming up had to climb through several flights of creaky stairs,
then walk around a dividing wall to get to the room made it seem very
private.  Consequently, it was their secret club house, where they built
models, shared secrets, explored pilfered copies of Playboy and each other.
On a rare occasion, they were even able to explore a girl, most often the
sister of a friend who was willing to put up with their clumsy probing.
   He was brought back to the present when Olivia grabbed his hand and
pulled him into the room, closing the door to keep the heat in.  A small
vent in the floor allowed heat to flow from the basement furnace, through
ducts hidden in the closets on the first and second floors and into the
room.
   Olivia sat on the rug and pulled him down to sit next to her.  He
settled in cross-legged, memories still swirling around him.  Without
thinking, eyes still seeing the past more than the present, he said in an
awed voice, "This reminds me of a place where I used to play doctor with my
friends."
   As soon as the words left his lips, he felt his face burn with
embarrassment.  Olivia's head snapped up and she looked at him thoughtfully
for a moment before asking in an incredulous tone, "You played doctor?"
implying that it was almost impossible for her to believe that of an adult.
   Her response made him wish that he hadn't let it slip out, but now that
it was hanging in the air, he didn't know how to take it back.  He sat for
a moment, face burning, then surprised himself even more by stating, "Sure,
all the kids did when I was your age.  Don't you?"
   As soon as he asked, Olivia's face colored and she looked at the floor
as if his words had stung her.  The answer was so quiet, he almost missed
it.  "No, I don't really have any friends," she said softly, sounding
dejected.
   Her words, her body language, cut straight to his heart.  In attempt to
comfort her he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. 
"Well, I'm your friend," he said, emphasizing each word.  "So you can't say
that anymore."
   She looked up at him and smiled shyly for a second or two, then pulled
him over to the doll house.  She spent the next half hour introducing him
to each occupant.  He was amazed at her creativity and imagination.  She
had stories about the history of the house and contents as well as its
inhabitants.
   She paused, after a story about the kitchen and looked at him with a
sideways glance.  She opened her mouth, paused, then took a breath and
said, "Can I ask you a question about when you played doctor?" He had
honestly hoped that his faux pas was forgotten, but true to form, she had
been mulling it over while they were looking at the doll house.  Her
earnest gaze made him nod his head reluctantly.
   She looked him straight in the eye and as she opened her mouth to speak,
the door opened below, breaking the spell.  "Olivia, you need to get ready
for bed," he heard Greg call up the stairs.  "Let Jason come down and hang
with me and Mommy."
   Olivia stood and without looking back, headed out of the room and down
the stairs, leaving him to turn out the light and close the door before
following her footsteps down the winding stair case, his hand brushing the
rough bricks of the chimney as he carefully made his way down.
   He met Greg in the hallway and felt his face color, Olivia's question
still ringing in his ears.  "Cool place up there isn't it?" his friend
asked.  "When I was a kid, I would have loved a place like that." Jason
nodded in agreement, deciding not to mention he had a very similar place as
a kid, as they headed down to the living room.
   DOWN THE PATH
   The following week, the memories that had been awakened in the attic
room grew in number and detail.  He caught himself reliving the excitement
and arousal that had long ago been forgotten.  Recalling the first time a
friend had convinced his little sister to join them in the attic was
particularly powerful and started replaying in his dreams.  He was
surprised and a little embarrassed to awake from one particularly realistic
dream to find himself fully erect.
   He worried all week that Olivia would share his careless revelation with
her parents.  He should have known better after the last two years.  Olivia
was not one to share her thoughts easily.  Just in case, he resolved not to
allow himself to be alone with Olivia until he had his memories and the
feelings they evoked, sorted out.  He doubted she would even invite him to
her attic room again, even convinced himself it was most likely a onetime
thing.  He hoped he was right.
   The evening for his weekly visit came and he climbed the stairs to the
warm light of the door with mild a sense of dread.  Olivia opened the door
before he could ring the bell and drew him inside.  Her excitement at
seeing him seemed less contained and she fidgeted through dinner, casting
glances at him but refusing to meet his eyes.
   She dutifully helped Jennifer with the dishes while he and Greg watched
a little football.  When she appeared at his side and grabbed his hand, it
startled him.  A wordless tug at his hand was all it took.  In spite of his
decision earlier in the week, he stood and followed her.  Greg looked at
him and grinned.  "I think you have a date with a doll house," he said with
a laugh, "better you than me," he finished with a wink as he turned back to
the game.
   Jason steeled himself for an onslaught of questions as soon as Olivia
closed the door to the "secret" room.  Instead, she knelt by the doll house
and beckoned him over.  The contents had been removed and were arrayed
around the house.  She began to carefully place them in the house, pointing
to each item in turn so that he could hand them to her.
   While focused on the house she quietly asked, "Can I ask you my question
from last week?" He sighed and reluctantly nodded.  "What did you do when
you played doctor?"
   He swallowed hard twice and started to say that he didn't think playing
doctor was an appropriate topic for them to discuss.  But, when he turned
to say it, she was gazing at him serenely, her eyes conveying complete
confidence that he would keep his promise.
   He answered with a brief summary, hoping she would be satisfied and move
on to more appropriate conversation, "One person pretended to be sick and
the other was the doctor.  The doctor would check the patient all over to
figure out why they were sick.  Then the doctor would tell the patient some
things to do to get better."
   She turned back to the house, seemingly satisfied with his answer.  A
few minutes later, while placing the armoire in a bedroom, she paused. 
"When you checked all over, did you check their privates?"
   He could feel the heat as his face reddened.  He took a deep breath
before nodding his head, knowing now that there would be more questions.
   Her line of questioning continued over the next couple of weeks as they
arranged and re-arranged the furniture in the doll house.  "Why did you
play doctor?" "Did it feel good?" "Were you ever caught?" "Did it feel
weird to pull your pants down in front of someone else?" "What kind of
stuff did the patient have to do to 'get better'".
   Each answer disappeared into that little head and a while later there
was another question.  If he paused, she would turn and look at him with
that same trusting gaze.  A look that said, "I trust you, that's why I'm
asking." As the questions continued, he found himself answering in more
detail, hoping to satisfy her curiosity.
   She also shared, bit by bit, why she was curious.  At the lunch table,
she had overheard some girls talking about playing doctor in hushed tones,
giggling behind their hands as they talked.  Having heard only half the
conversation, her curiosity got the better of her.  After working up the
courage, she asked one of them about it when they were in the bathroom
alone.  The other girl was incredulous, admonished her for eaves dropping
on "a private conversation" and stated that only friends could talk about
that kind of stuff, implying in no uncertain terms that Olivia was not one
of those friends.
   As he reflected on their conversations he was conflicted.  On one hand,
he was bothered at the direction their conversations had taken, imagining
what Jennifer or Greg would think if they overheard.  On the other, he felt
a sense of pride that a clumsy reference to his childhood had opened the
door for Olivia to confide in him, to ask questions that no child would
think of asking his or her parents.
   He hoped that if he answered her questions openly and honestly, her
curiosity would be sated and they could move on to other things.
   One other emotion, one that he was unwilling to admit to also came into
play.  Recalling those childhood games of exploration were euphoric and he
found himself in a mild state of arousal as he shared them.  The fact that
he was sharing them with Olivia, a girl the same age as he had been, added
a level of excitement.
   The thing that worried him the most was that he continued to dream about
playing doctor with his friends, especially the occasions they had
convinced a girl to join them.  On several occasions, he realized after the
fact that he had purposefully stayed in bed after hitting the snooze
button, eyes closed, reliving the dream that had been interrupted, wrapped
in the mild state of arousal that it induced.
   NO TURNING BACK
   Several weeks after his slip up, he found himself following Olivia,
headed for what he assumed was another session of re-arranging the doll
house while fielding her questions.  He couldn't imagine what more she
could ask.  In the course of answering her questions he had covered
everything, even sharing a story or two that had recently resurfaced to
help describe the game of doctor.
   One story that he recounted was when his friend received a "real" doctor
kit, a toy actually, for his birthday.  They had immediately conspired to
use it on his sister and were eventually successful, even convincing her to
let them take her temperature "down there." That story opened him up to
another onslaught of questions.
   They climbed the stairs and entered the room together.  Olivia turned
and closed the door, then paused, her back against it rather than heading
for the doll house.  Jason sat on the rug in the middle of the room and
waited for what he figured would be more questions but this time things
felt different, there was a tension in the air.
   Olivia looked at him, licked her lips, looked at the carpet, then back
up at him as she drew a deep breath.  "Doctor," she began softly, a slight
quaver in her voice, "I, I hope you can help me," His heart jumped and his
throat was suddenly dry as she continued quietly, "I have some pain in my
tummy and in my legs that won't go away and," she paused, "and I think I
might have a fever," she finished and looked at him with anticipation,
seeming to will him to answer.
   He felt like an actor who had been delivered a perfect queue, but forgot
his lines.  She looked at him, then glanced over at the table.  His eyes
followed hers and he discovered a leather physician's bag that looked like
it had come straight from an old movie.
   His heart hammered in his throat as he debated his options.  He *knew*
that he should decline Olivia's invitation.  That was the right thing to
do. But, the look on her face when she told him about being belittled by
her classmate leapt into his mind as well.  The last thing he wanted to do
was to crush her spirit.  He hated choices like this where it seemed there
was no easy way out.
   He looked from the bag back to Olivia and could see the indecision in
her eyes.  He imagined that she was questioning her decision to take this
bold step with him.  She met his eyes for a moment, then looked down and in
a voice so soft he could barely make it out, she said, "You said you were
my friend.  I just thought..." the words trailed off into a whisper.
   On impulse, he stood and reached for the bag.  "Tell me your symptoms
again, miss" he said in as serious a tone as he could muster.  She looked
up at him with a sparkle in her eyes, a tentative smile on her lips.  At
that juncture, the decision made, he knew he had crossed a line from which
there was no turning back.
   IN CONTROL?
   He felt that he was stepping off into thin air, improvising as he went.
He was sure that he could satisfy her curiosity, make her feel; no, make
her know, that she did have a friend in him, but somehow steer the game
away from "dangerous" waters.
   "My name is Olivia, doctor," she said quietly and re-stated her
symptoms, this time with more details, pointing to areas on her torso and
legs, he dragged the bag towards him, opened the clasp and pushed the top
edges apart.
   The old leather crackled as the hinges pivoted to reveal the bag's
contents.  He had expected to find items from a child's toy doctor kit. 
Instead, the open bag revealed the gleaming stainless steel, glass and
rubber of the real thing.  Medical tools were arranged carefully in pockets
along each side of the bag.  A stethoscope lay coiled in the middle.  He
couldn't help but think, "I would have killed for this when I was a kid."
   He picked up the stethoscope, surprised to find the rubber still fairly
pliable, and placed it around his neck.  He looked down to find Olivia
standing next to him expectantly, nervously clasping and reclasping her
hands.
   "There's no need to be nervous miss, um, Olivia" he said, trying to stay
in character, "I can perform a quick examination and find out why you are
having pain."
   "And a fever," she stated, "I think I have a fever, too, but you'll need
to check to be sure," Olivia added quickly.
   He pulled out a chair and patted it, "Sit here Olivia and I'll have a
look at you."
   He started at her neck, pressing gently; had her open her mouth and say
"ahhh".  He was transported back in time, remembering the old game of
trying to mimic a real check-up, all the time knowing the actual goal was
quite different.
   As his fingers palpated her neck, he was struck by a difference from
those long ago games.  As a child, he was generally the same size as his
"patients".  Now, his hands felt overly large as he gently touched her
neck. She looked small, sitting in front of him feet barely touching the
floor.
   He pulled the stethoscope from around his neck and placed the earpieces
in his ears.  "Let me listen to your heart and breathing," he said, bending
over and placing the stethoscope against her t-shirt.
   She pushed the stethoscope away.  "Doctor, you can't listen through my
shirt," she chided, pulling the material from her jeans, then gathering the
hem and bunching the shirt in her hands as she pulled it up.
   His eyes followed the hem, first revealing her smooth stomach, still
somewhat tan from the summer, baby fat making it look soft, an "inny" navel
punctuating the center just above her jeans.  An indistinct tan line
appeared next, the darker skin of her stomach giving way to lighter skin.
Her chest was not flat but had some contour, not breasts per se, just
little mounds.  The quarter sized brown areola with nipples the size of map
pins in the center, looked large on her chest.
   He breathed on the stethoscope, warming it as he had seen doctors do,
continuing to stare at the bare skin now exposed by the shirt tucked up
under her chin.  The little mounds were accentuated by the white tank top
shape left by her swimsuit top.  The areola were flat with inset nipples,
but looked ready to blossom into bumps that would be pushing her shirt out
before long.
   "This may be a little cold," he said softly as he knelt and placed it on
one side of her chest, then the other.  As he listened to the thumping of
her heart, he breathed in.  The aroma of fabric softener carried him back
to his childhood.  That distinctive smell mixed with others more musky had
been a part of the experience in his friend's attic room.  His mother never
used fabric softener, so the scent was something he related to playing
doctor.  He pulled away after a minute and announced in a firm voice, "The
good news is that you do have a heartbeat." His attempt at humor was met
with a grin.
   He pushed on her shoulders and she leaned forward so that he could
repeat the process on her back.  The tan lines were more defined on her
back, the tank top straps and band of paler skin across her shoulder blades
jumped out at him.  As he moved the stethoscope around he couldn't help but
notice that her jeans gapped, revealing her panties, white with purple
piping on the waistband.
   He stood up and slowly pulled the stethoscope from his ears, trying to
think of how to change the course of the game.  As he stood there, Olivia
turned her head, looked up at him and asked, "Don't you need to press on my
tummy and stuff?" He began to realize then who was in charge of the game.
He knelt in front of her as she continued to lean forward and gently tapped
her back with his fingers, trying to minimize the contact, moving as
quickly as possible down her back.
   "The chest cavity sounds just fine," he said quietly in his best doctor
voice, "Let's see if we can isolate the pain.  Just lean back against the
chair miss, um Olivia."
   She leaned back with her buns perched on the edge of the seat, feet on
the floor, so that she was semi-reclined, shoulders resting against the
back, shirt still under her chin.  He reached out tentatively, slipped his
hands under the shirt and pressed on the tops of her shoulders.  As his
fingers disappeared under her bunched up shirt and made contact with her
skin, Olivia let out a little sigh.  The combination of her sigh and the
silkiness of her skin sent a jolt through him.
   In that moment, something changed for him.  He was no longer plagued
with doubt, trying to find an appropriate course for the game.  Instead he
felt a strange energy course through him.  His heartbeat quickened and he
knew beyond a shadow of a doubt where he wanted this game to go.  It was as
if his younger self had taken over and pushed all vestiges of the adult
away.
   He ran his fingers down from her shoulders, "Does it hurt here?" he
asked as he pressed the edges of her collar bone.  She shook her head "no".
He slid his fingers down and circled her areolas, squeezing gently, coaxing
the nipples to life, enjoying the feel as his fingertips bumped over them.
"How about here?" he said his voice barely above a whisper.
   She looked up as she shook her head "no," eyes fixed on his fingers as
he continued to run them around and across her nipples.  "Th-that feels
kind of good though," she half whispered, eyes still on his fingertips,
"You can keep doing it a little longer if you need to."
   "I'll have to remember that when it comes time for your treatment," he
said softly in his doctor voice as he continued to rub and gently squeeze,
marveling at how little the nipples felt, "It may be something I can use to
help make you feel better."
   He worked his way down her torso, heeding her whispered "careful, I'm
ticklish," pressing his fingertips into her ribs, then the top of her
stomach, asking at each juncture, "how about here?" As he pressed, he
continued to enjoy the softness of her skin and how large his fingers
looked against her flesh as he pressed and probed.
   When he had at last made his way past her navel to the top of her jeans,
she again shook her head "no".  After a short pause, she said softly,
"it's, umm, a little lower."
   He paused, eyes on her jeans, thinking how small the snap and zipper
seemed, then looked up and met her gaze.  "Hmmm," he scratched his chin,
"I'll need to undo your jeans to continue my examination," he paused, then
continued, "as long as that doesn't make you uncomfortable."
   "That's ok," she whispered, looking from her jeans up into his eyes with
the same look of trust as before.  He paused for a moment, trying to read
her emotions.  He saw trust, but also a hint of anticipation.
   "You're sure?" he asked, giving her another chance to back out.  She
nodded her approval with pursed lips.
   With shaking hands, he unsnapped her jeans, lowered the zipper and
pulled the fly open, revealing more skin and the top of her panties, white
with the purple piping around the waistband that he had glimpsed a few
moments before.  He pressed his fingertips against the newly exposed skin,
brushing the top of her panties.  "How about here?" he queried softly,
anticipating her answer with his heart beating in his throat.
   "No, it's even lower kinda around the tops of my legs," she said softly.
After a short pause, she suggested, "You might need to pull my pants down
to check.  But that's ok 'cause you're a doctor."
   He paused for a minute, mustering his courage.  He could see now that
from the start there never had been a chance of turning the game into
something safer, more appropriate.  Olivia had been driving it towards her
goal since the moment he picked up the stethoscope.  He wondered, though,
was this just a way to find out what the other girls were talking about, or
was she feeling any of the arousal that was stirring inside of him?
   He had her stand in front of the chair and pulse pounding in his
temples, slipped the jeans off her waist, over her hips and pushed them to
the floor.  She hooked her thumbs into the panties, "These too," she asked
softly, a little tremble in her voice.
   "Not just yet," he replied, "lie down here and I'll check your legs," he
said, indicating a spot next to the chair.  She ran her thumbs around the
waistband pulling the panties up until they were tight.  As she sat down on
the rug, then lay back, the shirt slipped down a bit covering her chest. 
She lay there expectantly, looking up at him, legs relaxed, parted
slightly.
   The phrase "Sugar & spice & everything nice," was splashed in purple
cursive diagonally across the fabric stretched tightly over her pubic
mound. The crease of her vulva was just visible underneath the fabric as it
disappeared between her legs.  He smiled to himself, wondering if the
designer of those panties had any idea how true those words were.
   Kneeling beside her, he reached down and pressed his fingers against her
thighs, just below the leg bands, also outlined in purple piping that
matched the waistband, and repeated his question, "Here?"
   "Ummm," she paused as if trying to discern something, "almost, but more
to the inside of my legs," she said and spread her legs, pulling her knees
out, drawing her feet with the jeans gathered around them up towards her
buns.
   The cotton fabric, stretched tightly, revealed two puffy lips, slightly
parted with a hint of a clitoral bump between them.  He could see a little
spot of dampness on the gusset, seemingly an answer to his musing a moment
ago.
   He pushed his thumbs against the inside of her thighs in the hollow next
to the leg band of the panties.  "How about here?" She just shook her head
and smiled.  He moved his thumbs across the piping, over the fabric and
pressed gently into the bulge of her lips, running them from bottom to the
top, bringing them to rest against either side of her clitoris.
   A small gasp escaped Olivia's lips as he moved his thumbs down, then up
again to rest at the top of the cleft.  They were so wrapped up in the
sensations both were feeling that neither heard the muffled jangle of the
old phone in the hallway below them.
   "I think we found the spot," he said, his voice a husky whisper.  "I'll
need to slip those panties down to make sure," he said with a smile.
   Olivia snapped her legs together and rolled over, flipping his hands
away in the process.  "Ummm, I don't think I'm ready just yet," she said,
suddenly embarrassed.  "Can you check my temperature first?" she asked
tentatively.
   Before him lay what could only be described as a perfect derriere.  The
cotton was stretched across two mounds that promised to be firm, yet soft.
The piping on one leg was pushed up a little to reveal a distinct tan line,
making the prospect of eventually pulling the waistband down even better.
   "I think I can take your temperature without pulling your panties all
the way down," he offered softly, acknowledging her change of heart.  "I
can just pull the back down," he explained.  "Is that ok?"
   She thought for a moment and nodded, her cheek resting on an arm.
   He pulled the back of panties down, stretching the waistband to reveal
two white globes.  Goosebumps appeared as the air hit them, more a
testament to Olivia's anticipation than a reaction to cooler air.  Eyes on
her buns, he reached up to pull the bag from the table.  He located the
thermometer, encased in its own leather sleeve.  He was about to pull it
from the bag when he heard the door below them open and a footstep on the
first stair.
   Their eyes met and each put a finger to their lips as they reacted to
the footsteps slowly climbing the stairs.  Jason hurriedly closed the bag
and pushed it as far as he could under the table, then pushed the chair
back in place hoping it would help hide the bag.  Olivia stood quickly,
pulling her jeans up as she rose, tucking the shirt in as she closed the
snap.
   They had both scrambled to the doll house and were busy moving furniture
around when the door opened, revealing Greg with a frown on his face. 
"Olivia, it's time for you to get ready for bed, Mommy and Daddy need to
talk to Jason about something important."
   Olivia hopped up without a word of protest and headed out the door. 
Jason noticed with horror that her zipper was still down, the jeans gapping
a bit.  He stood, his head swimming and faced Greg.  Intellectually, he
knew Greg couldn't have known what they were doing.  But, the fact that
seconds before he had pulled Olivia's panties down overrode any rational
thought with guilt.
   He headed out the door in front of Greg and down the stairs, his mind a
whirl of thoughts, working to come up with a plausible explanation (knowing
there was none); wondering how Greg could have surmised what was going on
(did the heating vent somehow transmit their voices downstairs?).  He
fought to gain control of his racing pulse as he plodded down the steps.
   Stepping from the last stair into the hallway, he saw Olivia waiting for
him.  She stretched out her arms and he shakily bent over to give her a
hug. She whispered, "I love you, we can play again next week," seeming
oblivious to the fact that they had almost been caught.  As Greg wordlessly
exited the stairway and closed the door, Jason straightened up, sure that
the hug was a final nail in his coffin and followed Greg downstairs.
   Jennifer was waiting on the couch as they entered the living room.  Greg
indicated the chair across from her and Jason slumped into it, his heart
pounding, the blood rushing through his ears making it hard to concentrate.
Greg paced across the floor, then turned to face Jason, his face grim.
   "Jason, you know how hard it is for Olivia to get to the point where she
trusts people," Greg began.  "We've shared our worries about her extreme
shyness with you these last two years," Greg paused, looking directly at
Jason.  After Jason nodded, he continued.  "We've watched as Olivia came
out of her shell and grew closer to you.  We let her spend a lot of alone
time with you these past few weeks because we felt it would help her to
grow.  Sometimes we've worried, that much alone time may not be a good
idea, but we trusted that it was ok."
   Jason nodded again, head swimming with so many thoughts that it was hard
to concentrate as Greg continued, "That hug in the all confirms our
suspicions." At this he paused and looked at Jennifer who nodded, dabbing a
tear from her eye.
   Greg turned back to face him and Jason thought, "Here it comes." He felt
his face flush involuntarily anticipating an onslaught.  His heart
hammered, his body tensed; fight or flight mode was running full throttle,
pumping adrenaline into his system, making his mouth dry.
   Greg drew a deep breath, then said, "We'll be talking to Olivia about
all this after you head home, but obviously, needed to cover things between
adults first."
   "They know for sure, maybe letting me `head home' means they won't call
the police," Jason thought, trying to relax as Greg continued.
   "We need your help," Greg stated.  Jason was so ready to hear bad news,
that he stared at Greg slack jawed, the words did not compute.  He looked
at Jennifer and she was dabbing another tear.  Greg repeated, "We really
need your help buddy."
   Jason nodded dumbly, still not sure where the conversation was going.
   "That call a few minutes ago was the hospital.  Jennifer's mother fell
and broke her hip," Greg explained.  "Jennifer needs to go up to be with
her while she recuperates and I need to help Jennifer get settled and
determine if we need to move her mother to assisted care."
   After a pause, he continued, "I know that normally in a situation like
this, you'd expect us to call the parents of one of Olivia's friends, but
she really doesn't have any that we feel she is close enough with to do
that."
   Greg paused again and sighed, looking at his hands as he spread them in
front of him.  "Is there any way you could stay with Olivia?" He paused
again before adding, "We'll fly out tomorrow as soon as we drop her off at
school and I'll try to be home midday the following day.  So, you'll just
need to pick her up at school and stay over one night, then hang here on
Saturday until I get home." He looked over at Jennifer and then back to
Jason.
   Jason's relief was so profound that he felt as if he was going to pass
out.  He looked at Jennifer, wiping another tear, then at Greg in
disbelief. "Sure," was all he could muster.
   Greg broke into a huge grin and turned to Jennifer, "I knew we could
count on him!" he exclaimed.  "All those dinners paid off," he winked at
Jason.  "One more thing, you know my travel for the job has picked up the
past few months.  If all goes well for you and Olivia tomorrow, I may need
you to fill in for me here a few times before Jennifer can come home.  Can
we count on you?"
   Jason nodded, still in a daze.
   "Great," Greg exclaimed.  "I hate to send you off right away, but we
need to make travel arrangements, pack and talk to Olivia," he continued.
"She wasn't very close to Jennifer's mom, so I don't think she'll be too
upset.  We'll take care of things at the school tomorrow morning so you can
pick her up.  Security there is pretty tight, so bring your driver's
license.  I'll email you our flight info and Olivia's schedule so you
should be all set."
   Jason stood on rubbery legs and reached to shake his friend's hand. 
Greg grabbed his hand and pulled him into a bear hug.  "Thanks man," he
said, releasing Jason with a slap on the back.  Jennifer mouthed a "thank
you" as Jason headed for the door, still unable to fully compute what had
just happened.
   As he walked to his car, he replayed the evening's events.
   His best friend's ten year old daughter had essentially seduced him. 
Seduced him in a ten year old's way, manipulating him into a game of
doctor. He should have seen that coming after all her questions.
   He was almost caught by his best friend with the same ten year old's
pants around her ankles and panties stretched to expose her naked buns.
   She had all but told him she wanted to do it again when they hugged...
and to top it all off, his friend had just asked him to spend the night
alone with that very same ten year old!
   As he turned the key, he shook his head.  He'd wait until Greg's email
arrived before he allowed himself to believe any of it.
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A_Doctor_In_The_House