| I Kissed a Girl, Chapter 4 Maryann went into the luxurious bath suite that adjoined her bedroom, the feel of her daughter's tender soft lips still on her cheek. The pressure in her pelvis had never really gone away, but at least while she'd prepared dinner and chatted with the girls over dinner there'd been sufficient distraction to hold it at bay. When they were watching the movie however her sinful mind had gained strength. The feeling of separation that she found so disconcerting was overwhelming. Part of her looked at the whole scene disapprovingly, while the other part stayed on the couch salaciously watching the girls. What was it about the teenagers lying on their stomachs occasionally kicking their bare legs that affected her so. She undressed with the conundrum swirling in her head; considered taking a bath then decided that she'd shower in the morning. Washing herself right now was just too dangerous. She paused to look at her nakedness in the mirror. Her breasts had always attracted a lot of attention. She could hardly remember when they'd been as pert and high as Becky's, but they had. A few extra pounds over the years, not to mention nursing Rebecca, had swelled them and made them heavy. Recollections of her daughter suckling turned the pressure in her lower abdomen to an ache. Her eyes automatically went to the pea sized bumps in the middle of her four inch diameter brown areola. Ever since nursing Becky they never fully retracted anymore. It almost appeared that they were growing under her gaze. She hoped it wasn't true and willed herself to look away but it did no good. In a few seconds her hopes were completely dashed. There was no doubt that her nipples were distending. She would have known it even if she weren't watching the phenomenon in the mirror. The familiar tingly tight feeling was there and the tingle seemed to have a way of transmitting itself directly between her legs, as though there was a hard wired connection. The pea sized bump was now almost the size of a kidney bean and had a similar reddish tinge to it. Maryann knew that they could get nearly twice that big with stimulation. She recalled how Don, her late husband, used to suck and pull on them with his teeth. The memory sent such a wave of sensation rolling over her that her head started spinning and she had to grip the vanity counter for support. Bending slightly forward lifted the large fleshiness of her boobs off her ribs and made them hang free. She shuddered from the electric currents that seemed to be dancing on her skin—under her skin—all over her. The shudder made her tits wobble which only made the tingling worse. Her eyes drifted down over the modest swell of her middle aged child-bearing belly to the wide based inverted triangle of curly brown hair. She was remembering when that hair had been golden and just surrounded her crease; remembering when a novice nun had acquainted her with the names of all of its parts and had sent her on her first trip to heaven. The throbbing started. 'NO! ' her sexually repressed brain screamed. 'That wasn't heaven ... it was ... was the devil's waiting room!' Mother Superior had assured her that any contact with her womanhood not specifically for the purpose of cleansing, medical examination or in the process of marital sexual congress was a sin that would ultimately lead to damnation. Of course the Prince of Darkness had to have a lure; powerful bate to turn the unsuspecting and the weak to his evil ways. Pleasures of the flesh were one of Satin's the favorite tools. Maryann's hands were shaking as she pulled the plain white night gown from the drawer and dropped it over her head. Though soft, the freshly washed cotton rubbed on her semi erect nipples sending another stream of pleasure signals to her neglected vulva. How she missed Don at that moment. Slipping under the covers of her empty bed, memories of her late husband's rough efforts to stimulate her swirled. She'd wanted to tell him to be gentle, to stroke and caress with a lighter touch, but it was her husband and she belonged to him, for his pleasure, not hers. Soon he would mount her and begin thrusting inside, just as God had intended. Once in a while she was able to let herself go; to immerse herself in the sensations. Sometimes the angle was just right and she felt his penis rub on her clitoris. Sometimes she even moved and shifted her pelvis to try to get that wonderful contact but even then it was usually over too quickly. She knew it was wrong but the best—the only times—she'd been able to actually soar to the gates of heaven had been when she let her mind drift back to the manipulation of the young novice who had taken her to the gates of hell. It never ceased to amaze her how the devil had been able to mimic the bliss of that sanctified moment. Rolling on her side she hugged her full bosom feeling her hard points against her forearms. Waves washed over her and her legs clenched together reflexively. She felt the slippery juices being squeezed out onto her upper thighs. She willed herself—forced herself to stop. A tear trickled onto her pillow and she thought about her appointment with Doctor Perez in the morning. She was praying that the medical practitioner with firm ties to the church would be able to help her overcome these sinful urges when she finally fell asleep. Next door Elizabeth Conrad was finishing her nightly cleansing and moisturizing. Fighting the ravages of time was a long tedious process. The diaphanous blue nightie she wore, sans panties, was one of Harold's favorites. Her nipples were already tingling in anticipation and that promoted the yearning feeling at the juncture of her thighs. She was able to look after her own needs when necessary—just as she'd done this afternoon—but that never seemed enough. It was like bread and water. It could keep you alive but it wasn't a life. Exiting the bath suite to the bedroom her disappointment was like a blast of cold air. Harold lay slightly propped up on the pillows the paperback novel resting on his chest. His closed eyes and regular breathing made it obvious that he'd drifted off. Beth went to his side of the bed and relieved him of the book, placing it on the nightstand. She pulled the covers up and gently removed his reading glasses before giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead. As she rounded the foot of the bed she considered putting underpants on and then, deciding not to bother; she slipped under the covers on her side. This was happening more and more frequently. She didn't blame her exhausted hubby, she knew he worked hard and it was always a little better on the weekends. The trouble was her sex drive was going up and his evidently was going down. In the early years they'd averaged four or five times a week. It was almost too much for her back then, but she never refused—well hardly ever. Over the next ten years it dwindled down to three then two. After fifteen years Elizabeth was ready for the five a week but the actuality was not much more than one; hence her investment in toys. She was considering whether to partake of the relief she stored in her underwear drawer which brought back the memory of her inadvertent discovery that Michelle had become sexually aware. 'Fourteen, ' she mused, 'I wonder how long she's been pleasuring herself?' It wasn't early in the horny woman with the sleeping partner's mind. After all it was the same age she'd started and she'd come to have the opinion that she'd been somewhat late. 'If it hadn't been for that week at the cottage... ' The memory came flooding back again. After her cousin had introduced her to the utter joy her own body was capable of that afternoon on the dock, they'd hung out, reading and swimming until dinner time. Ginny had been right, there was no sign of their mothers until Aunt Margaret appeared on the cottage deck wearing a terry towel robe, cocktail in hand and called them in for supper. Elizabeth remembered being surprised to find her mother in a similar robe taking the hamburgers off the barbeque. When her mother leaned forward to serve the burgers a side view of the gape in the robe revealed that she was naked under it—or at least topless. Her aunt served up the salad presenting a similarly spectacular view. Lying on her bed beside her snoring husband she felt the same sharp twinge between her legs as she'd felt that summer's evening. Aunt Margaret (mom always called her Maggie) had very large breasts. It wasn't a surprise, although the very first time she recalled really noticing had been earlier that day during the brief time the older women had spent with them down at the water. Beth wondered if it was her new awareness of the marvelous sensations that could be generated from your nipples causing the pressure in her girlhood. When she saw the size of her aunt's tittie caps in that brief glimpse between the parted lapels of the robe the yearning churning between her legs had made her wiggle against her chair. Clean up was left to her and her cousin and the mothers took their drinks out on to the deck to watch the sunset. Elizabeth washed and Virginia dried. She remembered hardly being able to keep her eyes off her cousin's boobies as the jiggled inside the tiny pink top when she reached up in the cupboard to put the dishes away. When they were finished Ginny took her by the hand and lead her to their shared bedroom. Michelle's mother didn't even realize that her hands were massaging her breasts through the sheer nightie as she recalled that evening. Only much later did Elizabeth have an appreciation of how fateful the next exchange with her cousin was. "I wonder what they were doing up here all afternoon" she'd said. She would never forget the look on Virginia's face when she answered; "Do you really want to know?" The way the older girl's face lit up gave her second thoughts. Maybe she didn't want to know. "I can show you ... and we can do it too," her cousin suggested as she peeled her skimpy bikini top off. One of Elizabeth's hands had found its way to her mons and squeezed it through silky nightgown as she envisioned her cousin's boobs wobble and sway when she removed her bottoms. Ginny had just stood there letting her cousin admire her nearly matured figure for a moment. Behind her closed eyes, in a flash, for just the briefest instant, it was Maryann Spencer's head on her cousin's body. 'That's odd' Beth thought; but what happened next in that rented cottage bedroom was so life changing that it eclipsed all extraneous thought. Ginny crossed the small bedroom and without the slightest hesitation she'd pulled her younger cousin's little one piece suit all the way to the floor. Elizabeth had wondered even at the time whether the older girl could feel the heat radiating from her girlhood that had just been exposed. Her cousin was kneeling in front of her and Ginny's face was only inches from her burning sex. She recalled how gentle and soft Ginny's hands were on her hips pushing her backward. One of twin beds buckled her knees and she'd let her hips descend in a remarkably controlled way until she was sitting on it. Her cousin was pushing her knees apart and she instinctively resisted. "Just relax honey ... if you thought your fingers felt good, wait'll you feel this," the kneeling girl had whispered. Elizabeth rolled onto her back beside her sleeping husband and her hand found its way under the hem of the sheer blue nightie. Her fingers worked gently over the hot, sticky yet slippery, wetness between her legs. She knew her juices had been even more abundant that day in the secluded cottage. That day so many years ago when Virginia Pearson, her older cousin applied her tongue and lips to her pubescent vulva and began to lick. A wave of heat enveloped her and her gently probing fingers became Ginny's tongue. Elizabeth recalled how her fourteen year old self nearly screamed in frustration when her cousin lifted her head and looked up at her with anxious eyes and a juice smeared face. "Would you like to try it?" she asked but it sounded like a plea. The younger girl having her first cunnilingus experience didn't really understand the question. Virginia, seeing the confusion on her inexperienced cousin's face, got to her feet and pulled her cousin's legs up onto the bed. The next thing Beth knew she was looking up from her supine position directly at Ginny's pussy. She had seen it out on the dock, but that had been from nearly ten feet away now it was barely a foot above her. She remembered thinking how much it looked like a butterfly—the delicate bright pink wings spread and the lump near the top could have been the insect's body. Another realization was that it smelled so wonderful, sweet and delicious; the prone youngster had an overwhelming urge to taste it. She didn't have to wait long. Her cousin simultaneously lowered her head and her pelvis. The girl on her back felt the soft lips and tongue licking and flicking all over her vulva and the tremendous waves of pleasure that had been on hold were growing and flowing again. Their grunts and groans were muffled by the spongy wet flesh of each other's sex. The wet slurping sounds were more noticeable than the vocal ones. Earlier, on the dock, the explosion had taken her completely by surprise, this time she was ready for it—longed for it. A second or two before it happened, her hips started to buck and her back arched. As she screamed her release into her cousins soggy quim she wrapped her arms around the older girl's hips which seemed to also be moving a lot more than before. The memory had the fingers of her right hand gyrating at blinding speed under the sheer blue nightie. Her left hand which had been providing complimentary stimulation to her breasts, scooped up the pillow under her head, and she turned her face into it to muffle the sharp sound that rose from her core and emerged from her mouth. Strangely she was floating above the scene. This wasn't part of the memory; she'd never been floating up near the ceiling of the rental cottage. Her head was spinning and she wasn't in bed beside her husband but she knew that she couldn't actually be looking down on the two girls on the single bed either. Her fingers had slowed but they were still massaging her tingling vulva when the girl on top rolled on to her back. In her post orgasmic vision the teenagers were on the bed head to foot. It wasn't her and Ginny she saw, it was Michelle and Becky. The startling vision sent an entirely new rush through her and she bit the pillow to suppress the noise. Was it a premonition—mother's intuition? Exactly what was happening next door? Suddenly so relaxed and peaceful feeling Michelle's mother did something she hadn't even thought about in years. She brought the juice soaked fingers of her right hand to her mouth and began to suck on them. 'So sweet and delicious, ' was the last thought she had before she slept, fingers in her mouth like a baby with a soother. Angelina Perez turned off her BMW in the assigned parking space beside her office. She stepped out of the car into the grey, cool, drizzly morning. Other residents of the area would call it cold but, for the doctor who'd spent most of her life in the tropics, it was refreshing even if it did turn her chin length black hair frizzy. She collected her black well traveled medical bag from the back seat. Force of habit carrying the thing with her nearly everywhere she went. Ten years back in her native Guatemala made her feel like a medical emergency might be unfolding around any corner, and that she might be the only help for miles. 'I should just leave it in the office or at home, ' the pretty forty year old Latina thought as she opened the large glass and steel door of the four story building. The slightly lemony smell of the detergents from the night cleaners filled her nose as she crossed the terrazzo floor to the elevators. One car was on the fourth floor and the other was on the third so Doctor Perez opted for the stairs. Her sensible wedge heel shoes with the crape soles provided excellent traction for the four flight climb. During her ascent she thought how different this was from back home; different but familiar. She'd been recognized by the Carmelite sisters as a prodigy when she was about ten. Her aptitude in the sciences particularly chemistry and biology was phenomenal. Despite the desperate poverty, or maybe because of it, when she had completed the necessary courses of study the sisters arranged for her to take entrance exams for the University of California. With the help of a San Francisco Parrish that the Church had seen fit to twin with hers in Guatemala, she'd been enrolled at the incredibly tender age of sixteen. Eight years later at twenty-four she had her medical degree. The dream was for her to return home and provide medical care for her impoverished and disadvantaged people. Political unrest at the time of her graduation made returning unwise if not downright suicidal. It was for the best as she gained valuable experience for the next four years in the state-of-the-art facilities connected to the university. Finally in ninety-six some stability returned to the country through UN intervention. She'd returned as originally planned and set about trying to improve her people's lot. Her connections to the California medical community and the Church, along with the continuing efforts of the Carmelite sisters raised the standard from desperate to terrible. The election in two thousand and seven reignited the social strife and it was no longer safe. Even Madre Chavajay agreed that Angelina had to go for her own safety. Perhaps when—if—order was restored she could return. So that's how she found herself with a tidy little medical practice in the States waiting for the political climate back home to change. Having spent nearly three quarters of her forty years in the squalor of the third world; this brightly lit comparative luxury wasn't foreign to her but it was a relief. As she opened the door with the engraved sign bearing her name she wondered whether she'd have the courage and fortitude to go back. "Good morning Doctor Perez" her pretty and quite young receptionist greeted her as she crossed the empty waiting room. "Morning Linda" the olive skinned physician returned and picked up the files that had been set on the counter. 'The stack gets bigger every day, ' she thought as she retreated to her office. Many of her new patients were formerly seeing Doctor Garcia. When Caesar retired the resident that he'd chosen as his replacement and whom he'd mentored for nearly a year fell flat on his face. The feedback the Guatemalan refugee got told her that Doctor Smythe might be a highly competent physician but when it came to bedside manner he had a lot to learn. She was looking through the names on the folders when Linda set the cup of black coffee in front of her. The cute little redhead was another reason it would be hard to leave the comfortable surroundings. Separating the folders into two piles, one for returning patients and the other for new, she began to browse the medical records of the people she'd see for the first time today. They were all women which very much pleased Doctor Perez. When it came to pissing patients off Doctor Smythe apparently did his best work with the fairer sex. Since hers was a family practice Angelina assumed that she would eventually encounter the male members of her female patient's families but it was her experience that it took quite a bit to get men to see a doctor. Something about turning over control which was inherent to involvement in heath care system discouraged them. Turning over their intrinsic need for control to a woman was almost impossible for most of them. The returning patient stack was twice the size of the new. 'At least it seems to be slowing down, ' she thought and made a mental note to check with Linda on how many patients she currently had. Doctor Perez wasn't sure exactly where she was going to draw the line but she didn't want to over extend herself. She was tired of the assembly line medicine she'd been practicing back home. She wanted to treat all her patients' needs, and to be able to spend the time to do it. The first file she picked up was Maryann Spencer's. She began to get acquainted with the woman she'd meet an hour or so from now. Maryann was preparing a breakfast of French toast and sausages when the girls, still dressed in their sleep shirts, came into the kitchen. Normally she'd have sent Rebecca back to her room to put on a robe but knowing that their visitor probably wouldn't have one she decided to relent on this occasion. "What have you girls got planned for the day?" she asked putting the last of the egg soaked bread in the pan. Rebecca looked out the window at the gray misty morning while she was pouring two glasses of juice. "We'll probably play some games on line ... maybe watch a movie" "I have a doctor's appointment at ten and then I have to pick up some groceries so I'm not sure what time I'll be back" Becky's mother laid out her own agenda. Forty-five minutes later missus Spencer was saying good bye to the teenagers who were clearing up the breakfast dishes. She was already nervous before the car was even out of the driveway. Even theoretically discussing her sexual problems with the unmet doctor wasn't easy. Now that the reality was only minutes away the frustrated widow wasn't even sure that she could do it. "What da ya wanna do?" Becky asked her guest as she stowed the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. "Let's check out YouTube ... see what's new" Michelle suggested. The older girl hid her disappointment well. She was anxious to show her friend a certain movie just to see what her reaction would be but the choice was made—for now. They headed for Becky's bedroom. Michelle picked up her knapsack and went toward the washroom. "Where are ya going," her host asked "I was gonna get dressed," came the matter of fact reply. "Ah why bother ... it's gonna be crappy out all day ... why don't we just stay comfy?" Michelle looked at her new friend and felt a mind thrill. She'd been enjoying the sight of Becky's boobs, and the way they moved unrestrained under the nightshirt. She knew very well if they got dressed that her companion would certainly put on one of her all concealing bras and that would end the show. She was admiring the jutting cones when she answered, "Your house ... you're the boss," and then she giggled. Rebecca hoped she could hold her young friend to that statement later on. She was enjoying the way her neighbor's evidently hard little nipples were poking against the front of her thin nightshirt. They took turns browsing YouTube before progressing to their Facebook accounts. It gave both girls an opportunity to introduce the other to their friends. Through Gloria's friends list she'd managed to get on Melanie's list. When the photo of the girl who'd wowed her at the party came on the screen she was tempted to describe the event to Michelle but decided that the movie would be a better ploy. The song started playing in her head right on cue, 'I kissed a girl and I liked it... ' Around noon they were tiring of the blogs and chats. "I'm getting hungry" the older girl confided. "What da ya say we make some popped corn and watch a DVD?" "What have ya got?" Michelle returned. "There's one I just got last week. I haven't even had time to watch it yet" Becky lied. "What's it called?" "Cruel Intentions ... ever heard of it?" the younger girl shook her head, "No but I'm not a big fan of movies. I mean I like to watch them but I don't remember titles and stuff," Michelle informed. "It's about a brother and sister who play tricks on their classmates." Becky didn't mention that the tricks were sexual in nature, nor the scene that she'd replayed so many times. It was only twenty minutes into the movie and older girl hoped it would spark the right curiosity. "Sounds cool" Michelle agreed. The only change Elizabeth made to her overnight attire was to don a pair of panties. She was over the stove cooking up the eggs when Harold came into the kitchen and kissed her on the back of the neck. His lips sent a thrill down her spine that lodged between her legs. "Looks like I missed out last night," her husband observed, giving his scantily clad wife an appreciative once over as he sat down at the table. "You might say that," she confirmed setting the scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. "I'm sorry honey ... but you know that during the week I just ... I really don't have the energy," he said with a pathetic grin. "Forgive me?" "I understand," she replied kissing the top of his balding head. "I'll make it up to you on the weekend," he promised shoveling a forkful of his fluffy yellow breakfast into his mouth. 'It's only Tuesday!' Elizabeth lamented in her mind but said nothing. 'Why am I so damn horny anyway?' Twenty minutes later she was seeing him off to work at the front door. Their parting kiss did not linger but he squeezed her ass through the silky material which caused the persistent hum that had been playing in her womanhood since she'd gotten up to intensify. She didn't stay to watch him back out of the drive. With the kitchen cleaned up she went back to the bedroom to put on some working clothes. Opening her underwear drawer she chose the top pair of everyday cotton panties and told herself not to look at the other side where her sexier lingerie was piled on top of the ornately carved wooden box. 'Maybe later, ' she consoled herself. The hum simply would not go away. She was determined to ignore it as she set about to organize the study. It was pretty well the last room in their new house to still be full of stacked boxes. 'Catching Michelle in the act ... that's what started all this' she deduced opening the first box which was full of hard cover novels. Absent mindedly she started putting the books on one of the shelves. Her mind was turning over the progression of events after her ill timed invasion of her daughter's space. That's what had got her thinking about that week during her fourteenth summer. It had brought back so many repressed memories and it seemed her brain wanted to revisit that whole week. Remembering the incident on the dock, the very first time she'd masturbated, was logical enough given what she'd seen in Michelle's bedroom; but why had she relived the after dinner tryst with her cousin last night. The surreal vision she'd had of floating over the bed made her pussy jump. 'I haven't thought about that vacation in years ... and I need to bury it again, right back down in that deep hole where you keep things that scare you.' She decided that she wasn't going to think about that rental cottage, or her aunt and cousin, or any of the other things that had happened that week anymore. The amateur psychiatrist in her was saying, 'You can suppress the memory but the experience is still there ... it's part of you and there's no getting away from that ... if I don't think about it maybe this damn tingle in my pussy will go away, ' she argued with herself It was a worthwhile goal so she dedicated herself to organizing the study; 'Concentrate!' she demanded and it worked—for a while. Maryann got out of the car and smoothed her straight black knee length skirt. All the way across town the gnawing in her lower belly had been getting worse. She tried everything she could think of to distract herself from rehearsing the up coming conversation with her new doctor. 'At least it stopped raining' she thought looking up at the slate grey sky as she approached the glass and steel entrance to the little office building. 'That's brilliant Maryann! Think about the weather ... it's so profound and absorbing.' In the lobby she checked the directory; Dr. A. Perez — 402 . She actually thought she was getting used to the churning in her stomach until she opened the door and entered the small waiting room. There were two other women one sitting in a chair and the other on a couch. Both glanced up from their magazines when she closed the door. Walking toward the receptionist's desk she felt like she was naked; everybody knew why she was there. Her belly went into a hard knot and the girl behind the counter greeted her, "You must be missus Spencer," the redhead smiled and held out a clipboard "Hi, I'm Linda." Maryann was embarrassed that all she could manage was a jerky nod. 'That's kind of rude, ' she thought taking the form from the girl, but her mouth and throat were too dry to attempt to speak. "We got all your records from Doctor Smythe, but if you'd just look the information over and make sure everything is still correct, that'd be great." The way her hands were shaking didn't make it easy to read the form that was neatly filled in with all of her basic information. "If you'd just like to take a seat I'm sure it won't be too long." The clock on the wall read nine forty-five when she got her first glimpse of Doctor Perez. She didn't know what she'd been expecting but the sight of the short woman in the white medical coat ushering a young woman out of her office made the gnawing in her belly intensify. She wasn't just pretty, she was gorgeous. The black chin length hair framed a face that could have been on magazine covers. The very Latin looking doctor couldn't be much over five feet tall. Her tiny build was apparent even draped by the flowing coat. Tiny that was except for her bust. She wasn't sure why the fact that her new doctor's bosom was out of proportion with the rest of her figure struck her the way that it did. 'It's probably because you've always been so self-conscious about your own' she concluded. Doctor Perez looked toward the woman sitting on the couch and smiled sweetly. "Nancy ... won't you come in please." There was just the slightest hint of a Spanish accent. The woman who rose from the couch appeared to be about the same age as her. She hoped she wasn't staring at the doctor as she and her new patient disappeared into the office. Picking up the magazine closest to her from the coffee table and was pleased to see that it was a Church publication. 'I'm in the right place, ' she felt assured. She was browsing the table of contents when the sound of another voice made her look up. She blinked her eyes because the woman standing at the head of the hallway that lead out from the waiting room looked so much like Becky that she could have been her twin. 'She's too young to be a nurse' Maryann thought but the pink scrubs the woman—more like girl—was wearing said differently. "Miz Harper" the young woman who'd been sitting in the chair looked up from her magazine and smiled nervously. "Come with me please," Becky's doppelganger continued once she was sure she had her patient's attention. The woman whose name evidently was Harper got up to follow the nurse down the hall. Maryann thought miz Harper looked to be mid-twenties, maybe a little older. She returned her attention to the Catholic periodical but the hallway seemed to amplify the sound of the two women who'd just left. She heard a door being opened and a voice she recognized as the nurse's saying, "Please step in here and remove all of your clothing, including any jewelry. There's an examination gown on the table ... you put it on with the ties toward the front." "Do ... do I need to take my ... my panties off?" Maryann heard another voice say. It was so faint that she concluded that miz Harper was whispering. "Yes the doctor prefers to have you completely disrobed" the nurse confirmed. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes to do the preliminaries" she heard Becky's look alike inform her patient; and then she heard the door close. A shiver went through her, but it was a warm shiver. She hadn't thought about that, about getting undressed—naked. 'That's what doctors do stupid. They take down your symptoms and then they do a physical exam to determine the cause ... duh!' Her annual visits to Doctor Garcia swirled in her mind. She rejected the thought that she was excited by the pelvic exam. It was nervousness plain and simple. After so many years of seeing him, (he had delivered Rebecca) she'd become accustomed to him performing the procedure but she wouldn't call it comfortable. He always engaged her in small talk to take her mind off what he was doing. Every time sitting in his waiting room she'd had to remind herself that this was one of the three valid reasons for contact with her genitals but she always got a funny disturbing feeling just the same. She invariably found herself on the way home denying that she'd felt a thrill when he penetrated her with his gloved fingers. And then there was Bonnie, his nurse, who always stood at his shoulder the whole time with the most inscrutable grin. Once, when he was running late, Bonnie had been sent in to do the breast exam. Doctor Garcia used a disposable paper poncho as an examination drape. When he did the breast exam he always just slipped his hands under it and palpated her breasts while they were completely covered. It was only embarrassing—she thought—because she was so sensitive about the size of her bust. When he did it, it barely took a whole minute. The time his nurse performed the exam she'd had Maryann lie down and then she'd pulled the poncho up around her neck. She recalled the glint in Bonnie's eye when she did a visual sweep of her nakedness. The woman, who Maryann thought was too young looking to be a nurse, had spent a very long time squeezing and kneading her breasts. The woman who always wore a very crisp looking white dress had even pinched her nipples explaining that she was checking for discharge. She'd wondered why the doctor had never done this kind of examination but she was too timid to question the medical professional. When Bonnie had heard the sound of the door opening she'd pulled the paper examination drape back down very quickly. She was glad—she thought, sort of—that it had only happened the once, but it was followed by the most difficult pelvic exam she'd ever had. When Doctor Garcia had started the bimanual part she felt so dizzy and flushed that she was sure she was going to pass out; but it wasn't sexual—it WASN'T! Maryann could not make out the print on the magazine page beside the photo of a nun standing in a lovely garden. Her vision had become so cloudy and her hands were shaking. She felt the hand on her shoulder and realized that Doctor Perez had been calling her name. Later she would think that she must have appeared to be mentally handicapped with the beautiful Hispanic woman leaning over her saying, "Missus Spencer ... are you OK?" When she was snapped out of her daydream it felt like the rumbling tightness in her tummy was worse than ever. Doctor Garcia's kind dark eyes seemed to reach right inside her. "Would you like to come in now?" She rose feeling shaky and stupid, adding to the nervous embarrassment that she'd been experiencing since she'd gotten out of bed that morning. "Of course ... yes, I'm sorry," she said falling in step behind her physician. "I was just lost in thought." "Don't worry it happens to me all the time," the petite woman in the white coat confided as she closed her office door behind them. Maryann found her short little laugh very calming. "Have a seat," the doctor indicated a chair beside the small desk. "How can I help you today ... or is this just a get acquainted appointment?" 'That's it! A get acquainted appointment' the Latina had given her a way out. She didn't have to reveal her deep dark secret after all. Looking into those kind dark eyes the distressed woman knew that she had to go through with it and she was wishing she'd rehearsed a way to start. Doctor Perez reached out and took the clip board with the personal information form on it from her. She hadn't even realized that she still had it. Maryann only made one change and the blue ink made it stand out against the rest of the black and mostly type written text. Under marital status she'd crossed out married and checked the box marked widowed. Angelina scanned the form she had reviewed when she'd arrived this morning and saw the change immediately. "I'm so sorry," she said with genuine regret in her voice. "When did your husband pass away?" The doctor put her hand on Maryann's forearm and it felt so small and warm. "Last winter ... uh, about ... uh, six months ago—" Her eyes went down to her lap and they were starting to flood. Keeping her right hand on her patient's arm Angelina pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and handed it to Maryann with her left. There was silence while the grieving widow regained her composure. When Doctor Perez sensed that the moment was right she rephrased her earlier question, "So how can I help?" Although she had decided that there was no way she could confide her problem to Father O'Halleran she wished there was a confessional screen between her and the doctor. Looking down at the tissue she'd used to dry her eyes she sucked in a deep breath and just blurted it out. "I've been having, uh, I don't know ... uh feelings ... I mean sensations in my ... uh, between my legs ... uh—" she was destroying the tissue while she tried to figure out how to continue. "You mean sexual urges?" the doctor correctly deduced. Maryann drew a ragged breath and replied, "Yeah ... I mean I guess that's what they are." It wasn't a first for Angelina. She'd been around devoutly Catholic women all her life. The sexual repression and torment some of them endured broke her heart. She considered it not only her professional responsibility to alleviate suffering but, in a way, it was her religious obligation too. The doctor knew very well that there were people in her faith who preached moral standards that were impossible for normal human females to meet. That was one of the reasons she'd approached Father O'Halleran with the idea of forming the young women's group; that and the fact that she was carrying a heavy burden of guilt for having deserted her people for her own safety. Here she was in the lap of luxury; she simply had to be making some kind of contribution. It wasn't penance, more like fulfilling a conviction to the sexual health of her younger sisters in the faith. Right here and now she was confronted with an older sister who had already been damaged by the archaic doctrines. Years of experience and a couple of disasters had taught her that just telling her patient to go and get relief from their sexual frustration in any of the myriad of ways available would not work. It was a problem that demanded the utmost in tact and discretion; particularly in the case of older victims. Maryann felt as though a weight had been lifted. The awful confession was made and she was confident that her doctor, having close ties to the Church, would not lead her down the path to damnation. 'But what would—what could she do?' If she'd had the slightest clue as to the answer to that question she mightn't be here in the first place. She thought the worst was over and managed to raise her head and engage those sensitive dark caring eyes again. Doctor Perez put both hands on her now; one on each forearm. "I think we need to check your overall health first," Angelina said softly. "There are some physical conditions and disease that can mimic ... uh, present as sexual urges and we need to be sure none of those is present first." Maryann searched the brown eyes and the woman in the white coat across the desk recognized the lack of understanding. "I'd like to schedule you for a full physical," Angelina said and took her hands off her patient's arms so she could tap a couple of keys on the keyboard connected to her desk top computer. Maryann's head was spinning. "I'd like to do it right now but I have another patient waiting," her physician said as she scrolled through her schedule on the screen. "I want to do it late in the day so we won't be rushed," the doctor was saying almost to herself. "Will that be OK for you?" Maryann was glad the Latina looked at her because it made nodding her agreement an option—she couldn't trust her voice at that moment. "I can do it tomorrow after five" she announced with apparent satisfaction. "Can you come in then?" All the air had gone out of her and once again she could only nod her assent. "Great!" Angelina said standing up, signifying that the consultation was over. "I'll see you tomorrow about five. If you can be here a couple of minutes before that would be good. It'll give Vicki time to get you ready." Doctor Perez opened the office door as she was speaking. Maryann had stood up at the same time and was turning to leave when her doctor appeared to have a sudden concern and pushed the door closed again but kept her hand on the knob. "When was your last period?" The question hit the distressed patient between the eyes. She had to swallow hard a couple of times in spite of the fact that she had no spit at all. "It ... it ended last Friday," she croaked in response. "Good" Angelina said with a sigh of relief and opened the door again. "So I'll see you tomorrow at five," Doctor Perez concluded and then turned toward a woman sitting on the waiting room couch. "I'm sorry Helen I'm running a little behind now, but I'll try not to be too long" "It's OK ... I'm not in a big hurry," her patient excused her. Maryann saw her doctor scurry down the hall where her daughter's twin had taken the other patient. She now surmised that the young woman who looked so much like Becky was named Vicki. "It'll give Vicki time to get you ready," the doctor had said. By the time she was back at her car missus Spencer felt that her head had cleared quite a bit. Even with the burden of her secret out where it could be dealt with she still had the gnawing sensation in her belly. The nervousness and anxiety weren't relieved they'd been put on hold until tomorrow at five. She checked her watch and wasn't surprised to see that it was only ten-thirty. It was going to be a long thirty hours. |