The Rectal Exam

The lens hovers on the bare curve of a woman's spine, stethoscope's icy disc grinding against her flesh. It drifts downward as the doc's fingers drag it low, pulling a sharp inhale and sly chuckle from her unseen lips. 'That metal's freezing,' she purrs. Cut to his mouth twisting, teeth sinking into his lower lip—her smooth skin and teasing sounds unraveling his focus. 'Sorry,' Dr. Sumner mutters with a nerdy chuckle, 'one more deep breath?' Her back arches and sinks in a languid rhythm, hypnotizing him. 'Perfect,' he breathes, entranced. Snapping out of it, he coughs and peels the tool away. Pivoting to face her, she's a knockout—Yvette, all sultry allure. His gaze sticks like glue. 'Lungs sound fine, shots are current... anything else gnawing at you?' She shifts, uneasy, words catching. Yeah, something intimate's plaguing her, hard to spit out. He leans in, voice low: 'Nothing's taboo here, especially not with my top patient.' She eases, exhaling. 'Well, it's this nagging ache down there...' Tension coils, her eyes flicking to his, the air thick with unspoken heat.