Jerry Milner

The lady plays doctor

CHAPTER ONE

Joyce Carruthers, M.D., her pussy throbbing unexpectedly, stood near-nude and trembling on the scales as the big man leaned close over her shoulder and said, "A hundred and eight pounds. Good weight for your height, and you sure do have it in the right places."

He was a little drunk and so was she. Following her long two from the big city, he had welcomed her to her new job in his medical office with a bottle of champagne. Joyce had not known how to refine to drink it with him. She had not wanted to refuse it at the time. After years of college and medical school, champagne seemed like quite an appropriate way to begin hex rather unusual internship. And before the cork had been popped, Dr. Philip Morgan, the man she was to practice under for the next year, had seemed to be only professionally friendly toward her. He had congratulated her on her early graduation from medical school, had talked about the opportunities in interning and practicing in Roseville, and he had seemed to be the perfect gentleman there in his office in the big old frame building in the heart of town.

But as the level in the bottle had dropped, so had the direction of his gaze. First he'd been talking frankly and directly to her eyes. Then it had been her tits at which he had directed his remarks. By the time the bottle was halfway gone, he was addressing the hem of her skirt, some eight inches above her knees. She knew she had shapely knees and legs. She knew that her perky round tits attracted men. But she also knew that her relationship with Dr. Morgan was strictly a professional one, and that he should be able to control his insolent looks, at her. And so she was trembling, partly with embarrassment and indignation, partly because of the tickling touch of his warm breath on her neck as she stood on the scales.

All Joyce had on was a smock. It was the same kind tint the patients wore for their examinations. It was white, and made of soft muslin. It had short sleeves and its hemline came to the same height as that of the miniskirt she'd had on when she'd arrived at the doctor's office an hour before, both excited and exhausted. The little smock tied at the back of her neck and was open from there to its hemline. She was blushing all over her body. At the time, it had seemed perfectly logical for Dr. Morgan to give her a complete physical prior to her employment with him. But now, late at night and wearing practically nothing in his empty office, Joyce felt very exposed and very vulnerable. He had her half drunk and out of her clothes and was almost certainly trying to seduce her. On the other hand, it was perfectly reasonable for him to examine her thoroughly before putting her to work with his patients in the morning.

"Sixty-two inches," he said as he nestled the sliding measurement bar in the curly blonde hair of her head. He entered this figure in his notebook as she stood trembling and blushing on the scales, and he said, "If you'll sit up on the examination table now, Dr. Carruthers, I'll examine your heart and lung."

She had to jump up to sit her bare asscheeks down on the cold leather of the examination table. He went around behind the table, and the chili of the stethoscope on her back shot icy ripples through her body. It was hard to breathe evenly. His fingers seemed to thump right into her heart as he tap-tap-tapped on her ribcage. She felt dizzy and a little sick, and she tried to reestablish their purely medical relationship.

"I'm certainly looking forward to working under you, Dr. Morgan. Doing my internship here rather than in a hospital is a rare opportunity."

"Call me Phil when we're alone," he said as he slid his hands over her back. "Yeah, you'll like general practice, and I've got a feeling we'll get along well together as long as you do things my way."

He came around to the other side of the table, smiling crookedly at the black-haired man whom she'd have to get to know very well in the next year. He resumed listening through the stethoscope and rubbing her chest with his fingers. Through the material of her smock, the stethoscope was warm, but his fingers were every bit as penetrating as before.

"Of course I'm taking a chance on letting you in here," he said. "You've got to make good, you know. I'd hate to see you fail here and have to go back and do your internship in the city after the brilliant record you had in school."