I've known for quite a long time that I was one of those lesbians. You know, those girls who tend to like other girls? Yeah, of course you do. I think when it first dawned on me I was about 16 years old. You might be sitting there saying, '16 is not an early age'. Well, to me, it was. I'm not old, I swear, I'm only 32. However, in my defense the early 90s was just as bad as the 80s. I was so in the closet, I bumped into Tom Cruise.
Anyway, moving along, I haven't even told you my name have I? That's rude of me, isn't it? Well, my name is Melissa Mitchell and I'm a lesbian. Sometimes I think we do need meetings. Not to get over being gay, but just so we single women can get dates. I won't complain to you how hard it is to find a good woman that isn't going to treat you like meat or talk about her ex at dinner. No, that's not what my story is about.
It all began about a month ago when I went to gynecologist for my regular, well you know, check up. You see, women are like cars. We need to get a tune up once a year or else we become run down. Just look at Paris Hilton. Anyway, I walked into the office like I always do. There was the receptionist that I knew so well but always forget her name smiling at me. I smile back; tell her I'm there to see Dr. Turner and she tells me to take a seat in the dreadful waiting room.
As with most doctors, I was in the waiting room almost an hour before I was called in by a nurse. She walked me down this long hallway until I got to the examination room. Oh, how I hate these rooms. They are small, cold and full of surprises. She takes my blood pressure then asks me to take off my clothes and slip on a gown. Flattering, isn't it? I nod my head and wait for her to exit. What? You thought I was going to show her the goods? No, I save that for the doctor. Yes, I'll admit. I have had a small crush on my doctor. She's such a stunning woman. She has nice tits, a nice ass and such lovely blonde hair. Oh, I think I just had an orgasm thinking about her. I try my best to push those thoughts out of my head and get undressed. My brown hair falls just a little bit above my shoulders which comes in handy I guess. I never told you what I look like? Wow, I'm a rude bitch aren't I?
Alright, guess I'll tell you, but my measurements are a well guarded secret you cheeky reader you. A lot of men tend to think I'm straight for the mere reason I actually put on make up. It's really sad when I tell them that I'm gay because they look at me like I'm completely lying to them to get them off my back. Like I said, I'm a brunette. I'm not too tall; I come in at 5"6'. I have plain brown eyes that match my plain hair. While my doctor might have smashing tits, I don't think I do. Pretty soon she'll be in here touching them and I will thanking God that I don't have a penis.
After about half an hour waiting in this small room and freezing my ass off, she comes in with a large smile. "How are you doing today Michelle?" she said ever so cheerfully. Sometimes I think doctors are a little too cheerful for your benefit. "I'm doing pretty good," I said to her. She nods her head, smiles at me and takes a seat.
"Ok, so this is an annual check up?" she asks me.
"Yeah," I tell her. My eyes are studying her face as she reads over my chart. She has such cool blue eyes. They are kind of like an ocean that I would love to drown in. At least I would die happy. She finally looks up at me with a smile that makes me melt. "Go ahead and lay back," she instructs me. "I'm going to exam your breast first, then I'll check you downstairs."
At this point, I'm getting antsy. I'm so sure that she is going to tell how horribly aroused I am. For the love of Christ, it's just an exam! Calm the fuck down. Breath.
"Ok, let me know if I hurt you," she says calmly. Her hands start to touch me and I instantly start to squirm. "Am I hurting you?" she asks me.
"No, not at all," I tell her. Oh God, why did I have to pick such a hot doctor? This is so not fair. Her fingers are now near my areola and I'm closing my eyes. My teeth find my lip and I start to breathe in deeply. I'm starting to wonder if she's even gotten the hint that I like her. I'm sure she's straight. I mean, to look at this much pussy and be a lesbian must be so tiring.
"Alright," she said with a smile, "you look healthy on top, let's check you down stairs."
No, I am thinking to myself. No please don't. She has me spread my legs as she sits back down to exam me. "Alright, you know the drill," she tells me, "this is going to be cold and… what's this?"
Oh no. Now I'm nervous. Did she notice how excited I am? Dear God I hope not. "I don't think I'm going to need lubrication like I usually do. That's odd."
"Um, well," I can't think of what to say. My mind is racing. "I'm about to get my period." Smooth. Real smooth, Michelle. Why the hell did you just tell this woman that?
"Oh, are you?" she laughs. "I guess that explains it. Alright, this is going to be cold."
I feel a rush of coldness inside me and it makes me jump nearly out of my… seat. I guess this thing is a seat? Alright, well, it might not be, but it's a seat to me. I feel it leave my body and I feel something else come into me. Something thin and then I hear her say, "ok this is a pap smear ok?"
Great, I am totally not enjoying this part. It hurts like hell and I feel like I'm being probed by aliens, like they are in there to gather my eggs to try out some cross breading experiment. "Ok, you are going to feel my fingers now. I need to check your uterus and ovaries," she tells me calmly.
"Alright," I said in a quick breath. This is the part that hurts but feels so good at the same time and I have to ask myself, am I bad person for this? Yes. I most likely am a bad person for this.
"Ok, you look good," she said with a smile. I breathe a sigh of relief and get up. She looks at me and asks me, "so you're about to get your period? When did you have it last?"
I freeze. That was a complete lie and now I had to think back a month. Shit. I am so not good at this. I'm so sure that she caught me at this point. "Well, I, um, I don't write it down," I lied. "Ok let's see," I try to think back. "March 14th."
"Alright," she eyes me weirdly before she looks down at her chart. "Well, are you sexually active at this moment?"
Damn it. I hated this. "No, I'm single so no playing at the hotel pool," I tell her. She nods her pretty head. "So no man has had sex with you so I don't have to ask about pregnancy?"
Ok, you can shut up. I know what you are thinking right now. 'You didn't tell her you are gay? Are you still in the closet?' No. I'm not. Ok, maybe I am. I opened the door and I think I'm almost half way out but it's hard for me to leave Tom Cruise behind. Ok you got me. I don't give a shit about Cruise. It's more about me and how I think people will change their opinion of me but I guess this time I feel like I'm too old to keep hiding.
"Well, no man has really swum in my pool since I was 17," I said slowly. She lifts her eyes from the chart and rests them on my eyes. She laughs slowly and says, "are you kidding me?"
"No," I try to laugh it off. Great, she's a homophobe and now she's wondering why the hell her patient was wet enough not to need lube. "Well," she breaths in slowly, "how come you never told me? Now I feel a little silly asking you if you need pills and all this other heterosexual stuff for years now."
Is that it? She's not going to chew me out for being gay? Ok, maybe she won't or wouldn't. I'm sure she has other gay women in her office. "I'm sorry," is all I can utter. Damn it! Tell her why! "I just didn't want to tell you or anyone else for that matter because of homophobia and you know that kind of thing."
"Well, I'm a professional," she laughs. Oh that laugh makes me want to jump on her and well, you know. "I'm also a lesbian myself," she winks at me. Wait, what did she say? What the hell did she just say? No, this can't be. My heart is sinking. I can't speak. I have to. Goddamn it, say something! "Y-you are?" is what I get out of my mouth.
"Yeah, I'm not obvious here in the office because well," she rolls her eyes, "some patients are assholes and I really don't want them to know." She smiles softly and closes my chart. "Can you be even more honest with me?" she asks.
I gulp. I'm caught. I'm so fucking caught. She knows now that I have the hots for her. "I-I guess I can be," I said to her lamely.
"I didn't need lube because you were excited huh?" she smiled.
"I-I um, shit," I couldn't weasel out of this. I knew I couldn't. Caught red handed with my hand in the cookie jar. I felt like I was 10 again and I got in trouble with my mom for knocking my little brother over. I close my eyes hoping that when I open them this will be a dream. They shoot open but there she is and she's waiting for an answer. "Well?" she presses me.
"Yes," I tell her finally. My mind is in overdrive. She's going to tell me something about her girlfriend now and how they have an Asian baby. Or how much her girlfriend looks like Angelina Jolie and they have an Asian baby.
She tucks her hair behind her ear and smiled ear to ear. "Well, as much as I'm flattered, it was a little weird. But I guess I can ask you this since I know you must find me attractive. Would you want to get dinner with me this Friday?"
What? Another curve ball has just hit me square in the face. My whole head feels like its on fire not to mention other parts of my body. "Well, Dr. Turner, you already saw my vagina and you already know I have the hots for you, so I guess I can't say no."
"I see a lot of pussy in one day," she laughs, "its kinda the reason I took this job. But you know, it gets tiring and some of the older patients make me wonder what I'm going to look like when I'm their age."
We both laugh and I looked at her. My whole naked body was exposed to this woman and I have no idea what she looks like. I guess I'll have to play the 'you saw mine so show me yours' when I try to get her to my place on Friday night. "Well," I said finally, "I guess I'll see you Friday night?"
"You sure will," she winks. She grabs a prescription paper and writes her private cell phone number on it and hands it to me. "Take me on Friday and you should feel great Saturday morning." She gets up, winks at me and leaves the room so I can get dressed.
That was rather direct. I guess I won't have to play that little show you mine, show me yours game after all.