Let him Go
From Create Your Own Story
You say goodbye. By this point you've exchanged numbers. Before he pushes the door open he says, “Shit!” If you had to guess the step-son is gonna be abandoned. Talking to you he continues, "If you see Alex, tell him I'll be back." Without your answer he lets the door shut behind him. No sooner than he does, you are called by the receptionist.
She leads you through the door, to take your weight, then into a room where she felt your blood pressure. She grabs your arm very gently to wrap the pressure band around it. When she’s finished she leaves the room telling you the doctor will be in shortly.
After a minute or so a knock comes into the room. The doctor, with a warm dark skin tone and short hair, comes in holding a clipboard. “Hi, I’m doctor Potesio, what can I do for you?” You give him the list of what you feel is off about you. He asks you questions, and it's a back and fourth. Questions and ailments. Eventually he asks you about your sex-life.
You go over your recent endeavors, and mull over the possibility of an STD. (You don’t have one). The doctor, who has taken a seat in an office chair placed in front of a computer, scoots closer. Close enough to you, on the examination table, to give you a pat on the knee. “Alright,” He says. “Lets..uh. Begin.” He stands up to be over you, as he prepares his stethoscope. He puts it on your chest. “Breathe In. Breathe Out” He guides you. “Hmm. Lets try without your shirt.” You do so. For a second you swear he is ogling you. The doctor tries the breathing again. This time his hands are a little touchy.
He goes on. “Lay on your back…” He continues the examination. You follow him. The doctor presses in odd places on your chest. Then your stomach. Though it’s less your stomach and more towards your waist.
“Okay,” he says, satisfied. “I’m gonna check your scrotum and testicles.”
You have a problem. The doctor, who is a Polynesian stud, has been touching you enough to get you going. Right now you have a semi-erect hard-on.
