"Stop it!" someone screamed, and screamed again when they continued to go at each other. He pulled his tongue from the girl's mouth and jerked his head around and saw Miss Rand, the ex-nun, standing indignantly in the door.
"You animals," she cried, "You dirty, filthy, rutting pigs!" Tears rolled down her cheeks, "How can you profane yourselves in such a manner? How can you do this!"
Nurse Hooks pulled away from Blazer. Her uniform came down, although her slip stayed somewhere around her waist and her panties remained on the floor. Blazer turned and his big, purple red cock pointed at Miss Rand like a loaded gun. It waved and bounced stiffly right there in front of her and her eyes widened when she saw it. Her voice failed in mid-sentence, she put her hand to her open mouth and then with the same hand she started to reach for the delicious piece of meat dangling in front of her, but instead, put her hand back to her mouth.
"God!" she said and turned and fled.
"That bitch'll report us," said Hooks as she scrambled into her panties, "Oh, God, I'm ruined!"
Blazer wanted to continue where they had been interrupted, he reached out for a tentative caress, but the young girl brushed him off and was gone before he knew it.
He arrived in plenty of time for the appointment that nurse Bloom had set up for him. The office consisted of two rooms. One, which contained only a small steel desk and two chairs, was entered right off the hall; the other, the examining room, was entered through a door which opened into the first room. When Blazer got there he simply sat down in the chair beside the desk since the doctor had not gotten there yet. He reflected on how he hated physical examinations, how undignified he felt with another person probing and feeling and asking a lot of intimate questions. And then, there was always that hidden, unspoken possibility of something really being wrong, some rare uncontrollable disease that would arrest his young, happy life. He would rather have died peacefully ignorant instead of going through the torture of tests and consultations, and finally, residence in a terminal ward where death shops for life like housewives for food in a supermarket. The doctor came in finally, and arrested his thoughts.
She was a young Oriental, short but well formed, stocky, except that she was too curvaceous to be called that. Her ankles were small and her calves fat, her knees swelled out in her short skirt into ample thighs. Her waist was exceedingly small and her breast just the right size. Her mouth was small, but her lips were full, her teeth white as plaster and they protruded just enough to keep her mouth enticingly agape. Her eyes, of course, were slanted, and her hair was pulled back and twisted into a long, beautiful, blacker than black strand which stopped just at the small of her back. She mumbled a greeting and smiled apologetically at him as she sat down very self-consciously behind the desk, which was a place of authority, and where she had been taught that no woman should ever be. But she was here for the benefit of her people, and she was ashamed of her discomfort, but it was there nonetheless. In this situation of doctor and patient, with the patient seeking help, making a supplication to another human being to save him from the vagaries of nature and the treason of his own body, an American intern, or resident, would quickly assure the patient of the inferiority of all patients, and by communication of tone of voice, abruptness of manner, chastise the patient for taking up so much of his valuable time. But she had entered the profession out of compassion, and try as it could, medical school had not managed to wring this noble characteristic out of her. She loved life and everything that contributed to it. She pulled her glasses out of the breast pocket of her smock and took a blank form from a box on the desk and began to ask Blazer the necessary questions to fill it out.
Her voice was tiny, her accent slight and delightful. Blazer had to listen carefully to understand what she was saying but he found it a pleasant task.
"Do you have fainting spells?"
"No, ma m."
"Heart trouble?"
"No… "
They went through all the childhood diseases, most of which Blazer had had, TB, which he hadn't, epilepsy, and even athlete's feet. When the form was completed she said, "Well, what is your complaint?"
"Miss, I mean, nurse Bloom sent me here. She thinks I'm, eh, run down."
"How do you feel?"
"Fine."
"Why would she think that you're run down?"
"I donno, but she is a nurse."
"Of course. Shall I examine you? Or would you rather have a male doctor?"
"I ain't bashful if you're not."
"I'm bashful about some things but not that."
"Let's go then."
She lead him into the examining room and waited for him to enter and then she closed the door.
"Well, since you're in the profession I guess we don't have to be so formal," she said, pulling her stethoscope out of her pocket. He sat slump-shouldered on the examination table and she put a thermometer into his mouth, and the pungent sterilizing fluid under his tongue made his saliva flow. She put the ear pieces of the stethoscope to her ears and gently unbuttoned his shirt. She did it casually and he straightened his back for her so that she could get to the buttons easier. She looked into his face for a moment, and their eyes met. But he couldn't be certain whether she was looking at him or to see that he was holding the thermometer under his tongue. She pulled his shirt apart and the tips of her fingers lightly touched his chest. Then she put the cold stethoscope cup to his skin and listened intently at various spots along his chest. Then she stood back a little and again, looking him straight in the eyes, she grasped his shirt at the waist firmly and pulled it out from his trousers, then she walked behind the table and listened to his back.
"Why are you breathing so hard?" she asked, and he, not realizing that he had, indeed, begun breathing hard, hummed an "I don't know," through the thermometer. Then, she was back in front of him, smiling, and she took the thermometer out of his mouth. She hardly glanced at it before she put it away. Then she looked with an instrument into his eyes, nose and ears.
"You seem to be perfectly healthy to me," she said as she turned his hands palms up and looked at them. She ran a finger down the life line of his palm, and then back up again, and then circled it around and around in the center of his palm. Her touch was perfect, and Blazer began to be aware of a warmth coming from her body and of the smell of her hair which was less than an inch from his nose as she looked down into his palm. His cock stirred and began to glow warmly.
"I can't see why nurse Bloom sent you here," She released his hands, "If there is something wrong with you I'll have to give you a more thorough examination to uncover what it is. However, I do know nurse Bloom fairly well, and perhaps we'd better make a few more checks. OK?"
"I guess so."
"Take off your trousers."
While he struggled his pants off she sat down and watched him with interest. His cock was turgid and she neither turned nor hesitated when he pulled his under shorts off, giving her a full view of his tool. He put his clothes on the table and she arose and came over to him.
"I am supposed to wear rubber gloves for this, but I won't this time unless you want me to."