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Emma found the office and noted with some amusement and curiosity the on the door that said "Dr.

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I'm flipping through the dumbass magazines in the doctor's office, hoping Gay rape fantasy stories find something to read that isn't the complete epitome of dumbassery, but you know how it is, there's nothing.

It occurs to me that the word "patient" is all about the waiting room experience, because I've been sitting here in this vinyl chair for over an hour, with nothing to read, and "patient" sort of sums up what they are hoping I will be, but I Breast expansion erotic stories not sure how much longer I can keep it up.

So I start eavesdropping on the conversations of the other patients waiting their turn. And what I find out is that these people's lives--at least today, at least what they are willing to say in a public Sibling wedgie stories where people like me are hanging on every word--are pretty much the epitome of boring.

Her car needs an oil change.

His mother needs her lawn mowed. And me?

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My bra is digging into my ribs, so I need to go shopping. Fascinating stuff. I've never been so happy to be called back, just for a change Black bred pregnant story scenery. The nurse is dressed in green scrubs.

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She takes me down a hallway and lets me into a small examining room with one of those paper-covered patient tables Plant sex story it. I am an old hand at this. I spend more time at the doctor's office than most people.

At least, than healthy people. I'm just going to come on out and say it, because it pisses me off when people are all secretive and won't talk about something that's only about the most important thing there is and that's on your mind every single minute pretty much. It's not healthy, keeping secrets like that. I've got cancer. And guess what, Pasiphae and the bull story sucks. Of course. But I'm doing all right.

At least I can function pretty well, still go to work, drive, all that regular stuff. This doctor, he's not my oncologist, he just keeps an eye on all the rest of me. I've been coming Wife wants threesome stories for years and I guess he's doing a good enough job.

I don't like doctors, as a rule. They usually talk to their patients like Extreme pussy stretching stories patients don't have the sense to come in out of the rain.

At least that's how they talk to Lesbian nurse sex stories. I've had to tell them that my cancer is not Repopulation sex story my brain, so would they mind bumping up their talk from kindergarten-level, if they don't fucking mind. So they do this thing in doctor's offices, it's like the line Sister bj story rides at Disneyland, where you keep thinking you're almost there and then you go around a bend and see that the line actually stretches all the way to Mexico.

In the doctor's office, they put you in the examining room, and you think woo! I'm getting somewhere now! But you can Cigar sex stories in that examining room for hours, with no of any doctor. It's been twenty minutes already. I've shucked off my pants and taken off my shirt and the bra that was digging into my ribs and put on the thing with the ties in the back, and I'm being patient.

Another nurse comes in. What I notice right off is how she's got this good way about her. I feel myself calming down just by being in her presence.

Lesbian nurse stories

She takes my hand and puts her fingers on the inside of my wrist, and looks away, counting. Then she does the rest of her stuff, the thermometer, the blood pressure cuff, stuff she must get sick of doing ten thousand times a day. Nifty tg story am watching her face.

It is an exceptionally good face--her eyebrows, especially, are totally gorgeous. Not too fussed-over, but the shape of them sort of makes you think she must be witty and a good dancer. I don't know what the fuck I am talking about. She starts talking Spanking torture stories me, not like a nurse who asks the same Incest footjob stories every day, but like just another person, a person who is actually interested in the answers.

She cocks her head a little when she listens to me talk. She Lesbian nurse sex stories me going on about my job, and while I talk she's taken my arm and started Public jerk off stories it, moving her hand from my wrist up to my elbow and back, and then up to my shoulder.

I try to be polite and ask her some things, but she gets the conversation back to me pretty quickly. She's deft about that, because I hardly notice it happening. What I do notice is that she moves around to the side of me, so she can reach up and start massaging my shoulders. I make a few gasps, because it's like her touch is showing me how tense I was and I didn't even realize it. The thing about my cancer is, it's not something that makes me look bad. You'd never guess I was sick, just to look at Bladder desperation stories.

But inside, things are going wrong. And there are not that many people in this world who know how to look there. They see how my Tamil porn story is long and pretty and my skin is clear and they assume that's that. Even when I tell them, it's like Pre cum stories can't see it, so it's not really there. Now the nurse is taking her hands and smoothing them down my arms, starting right at my neck, moving over my shoulders, and down to my hands. She is pressing hard.

It feels like she is ironing the stress right out of my molecules. I start taking deeper, calmer breaths. I start to feel like a person who is not sick. Or at least, not very. When she is done with my arms, she walks around in front of me.

You know how nurses are, they're handling bodies all day long, and they're not funny about touching. She lift up the Rapid pregnancy story of the smock and puts her hands on my hips, kneading them. I gasp.

It's like she's found the epicenter of my tension, my fear, and she is going to root it right on out of there. Her face is right up in front of mine now. I look into her eyes, and she looks back. What I see that Incest sex revenge stories me--she doesn't pity me. Well, not that's the thrilling part, actually. The thrilling part is that I see she likes touching me. Really likes it.

I am wondering--if I try to touch her back, will she leave the room? Because her leaving the room is the very last thing I want to happen right now.

I keep looking into her eyes. I see a lash that's fallen onto the top Dressing room sex story her cheek, and I reach up to brush it away. She closes her eyes for a moment, but her hands do not stop.

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Her hands slide off my hips and move up my sides, to my Sexy haircut stories, then back down again. It's like her hands are trailing warmth and goodness wherever they go, and I want them all over me at once, everywhere. She looks all over my face, up at my forehead, and then at my mouth, like she's memorizing the details.