Asha and the Doctor

I got married in my early 20s. I was still new to America at the time, having arrived a few years prior from India. My husband, Arjun, is Indian, but he was born in the US, so he had quite a different cultural background compared to me. I’d been raised in a traditional home, so I was always incredibly shy about my body. He, on the other hand, always seemed to want me to be more uninhibited. "Asha, you have such a slim, tight body," he'd often tease, "you should really show it off more." And he totally loved it when other men would look at me.

A few years into our marriage, he had a job transfer, which meant new medical insurance and a new doctor. I didn't know it then, but he later confessed he deliberately chose a new local male doctor for me. "I just find the idea of a male doctor examining female patients so exciting," he'd admitted. He picked one from the insurance list himself. I was a little uneasy about it because all my doctors, both in India and the US, had always been women. The thought of a male doctor, especially a white man, immediately made me a little uneasy. A knot formed in my stomach at the prospect of any intimate exposure.

I went for an initial visit, thinking he was assigned randomly. His name was Dr. Reynolds, and he was a white man, probably in his early 40s. He was quite a friendly guy, and to my surprise, I instantly took a liking to him. He was imposing—tall and fit, with a firm handshake. On my first visit, I just had to fill out some forms, and the doctor asked me about my medical and family history. When I came back, I told Arjun I liked him, and he was very pleased.

Arjun kept sending me to him for my minor allergy problems. Each time, he seemed even friendlier, and I was honestly kind of excited about going to see him. Although he was mostly professional, he had a flirtatious side. He liked to tease and joke with me, even when asking about my health, and he asked about other personal things as well. He always asked me to come back for follow-up visits, and he kept mentioning I should schedule a complete physical. I was nervous and found myself instinctively putting it off, a quiet dread growing inside me each time he mentioned the physical.

Eventually, I confessed to Arjun, "Arjun, I think he's starting to flirt with me. He comments on my looks and figure, and asks really personal questions."

Arjun just shrugged it off. "Oh, that seems harmless to me. After all, he is your doctor. You should have the physical if you think he's a good doctor. What's the big deal?" Despite my feigned annoyance, I felt a thrill. His attention was flattering, even as it made me uneasy. I visited him several more times, but I never made that physical appointment.

Then, one day, Arjun met him in the clinic lobby when he came to pick me up. It turned out that Arjun and Dr. Reynolds had gone to the same college, and they hit it off really well. It turned out that he lived not too far from us, and they even went to the same gym. Arjun mentioned to him that I was a good cook, and he immediately told me, "Oh, I'd love to try your cooking sometime, I'm a big fan of Indian food."

Arjun told him that he was welcome to come over for dinner sometime. To my surprise, he took him up on the offer, and they made plans for him to come over the next weekend!

I wasn't too happy that Arjun had basically invited him over, but I love entertaining, so I didn't really mind it. I made a pretty big meal when he came over, because I wasn't sure what he would like, so I made a few different Indian dishes, hoping that he would like at least some of them. As it turned out, I needn't have worried, because he seemed to enjoy all of them. He and Arjun were on quite friendly terms already, and he told us to call him by his first name, Patrick. I wasn't comfortable with that, since I was used to seeing him as my doctor, so I continued to just call him "doctor".

That evening, I wore a simple ankle-length skirt and blouse, my long hair tied in a knot. I'm quite petite and slim, and I guess I look younger than my age. During dinner, I often caught the doctor glancing appreciatively at my body. He complimented my cooking, then kept complimenting my looks and appearance, even openly saying to Arjun, "Indian girls are so attractive, and you got especially lucky with Asha."

My cheeks flushed, but I had to admit that I really liked the flattery and didn't mind getting attention from him, especially if it made Arjun a bit jealous. It was a novel sensation for me to receive such obvious admiration from a handsome white man, as it made me feel uniquely seen and desirable.

He then asked Arjun more questions about me, like how we met and got married. Arjun, to my utter mortification, blurted out, "Oh, she was so innocent when I married her; she hadn't been with any other guy before me, not even a kiss."

I blushed so deeply I thought my face was on fire, and I pretended to be angry with him. Arjun seemed to want to embarrass me, and I knew he got a kick out of it.

After dinner, Dr. Reynolds spotted a wedding picture of us, with me wearing a saree.

"You look lovely in that photo," he said. "I would have liked to see you wearing a saree."

Arjun jumped in right away. "Oh, Asha loves to wear sarees. Go on, Asha, why don't you change into a saree for him! Don't be shy, it's just your doctor!" I was taken aback by this and protested, but he was insistent, so I left them and went to the upstairs bedroom to change.

Arjun was right that I loved to wear a saree for parties and special occasions, but I was not prepared to wear one so suddenly. I found a beautiful red saree and matching accessories quickly, but it made me nervous to know that I'm dressing up for the benefit of a white man who until now I only knew as my doctor. I knew I didn't have a choice now, and as I got dressed, every hook of my blouse, every fold of the saree, felt like a step deeper into a performance I wasn't ready for.

I guess I took too long, because Arjun had to come into the bedroom to tell me to come down, just as I was touching up my lipstick to match the color of the saree. When I came down, the doctor was obviously awestruck by how different I looked in the bright red saree compared to my previous casual outfit, and he immediately came closer to have a good look. Arjun was holding my hand, and he made me walk slowly and turn around so they both could see me from different angles, much to my embarrassment. I had untied my long, flowing hair, which reached nearly to my waist.

The doctor immediately came closer and held my hair up with one hand to look at the saree. His hands on my hair, and his fingers brushing against the sensitive nape of my neck, sent an unexpected shiver down my spine. Because my blouse was cut low in the back, much of my shoulder was bare. I started blushing again, acutely aware of the "show" I was putting on. It felt both humiliating and strangely exhilarating to be so visibly appraised. He asked how a saree was worn. Arjun explained how the saree doesn't have any hooks or buttons, and how it is just draped around the body.

He said, stepping closer, "Wow, Asha, that's amazing. The red truly suits your complexion. And that top... it perfectly shows off your delicate shoulders. May I?" He lightly touched my shoulder and gently lifted the end of the saree covering my shoulder away from my body. My small choli blouse was tight and thin, and the outline of my bra and the shape of my breasts must have been clearly visible to them.

I hadn't expected him to be so quick; I mildly protested, folding my arms across my breasts to cover up, a last, futile attempt at modesty. But Arjun said, "Don't be shy, Asha, he's your doctor! It's alright!"

Reluctantly, I dropped my hands, giving him a full view, with just my blouse covering my upper body. A part of me, however, was already giving in to the thrill of being openly displayed, my body responding to his appreciative gaze with an almost uncontrollable excitement.

My breasts are relatively small but firm, and I feared that a hint of my perky nipples was visible even with a bra underneath. The blouse was cut low in the front too, showing a little cleavage, and it reached just below my breasts, leaving my midriff bare. Since I always wear my saree below my waistline, my waist, navel, and belly were completely bare. I felt that the doctor's gaze lingered on every curve, a possessive hunger in his eyes that made my skin prickle with both shame and an undeniable excitement.

"That top looks like it's made just for you, Asha," he said, obviously noticing how it clung to my curves. Arjun laughed and told him how the choli blouse top was indeed custom-tailored for me. He then dropped the end of the saree to the floor and asked me to turn around.

"Let me see how it looks from the back," he explained, his eyes sparkling.

I hesitantly turned around, acutely aware that the smooth curve of my shoulder and almost every inch of the bare skin of my back was now on display.

"You have gorgeous skin, Asha, such a nice shade of brown," he said.

I blushed, his comments making me feel like an exotic, coveted prize. Arjun was clearly excited to hear it as well.

Dr. Reynolds then cheekily asked me what I had on under the saree. I was shocked by his boldness, but then realized he was genuinely curious, so I told him shyly that I had a petticoat underneath. He knelt beside me and slowly raised the lower folds of my saree, revealing my matching red petticoat, which is the long skirt worn under the saree. He lifted it to my knee, exposing the smooth skin of my calves. Then, playfully, he asked, "What do you have on under the skirt? Anything exciting?"

I didn't answer, just blushed even deeper. Arjun laughed loudly, "Tell him, Asha! Don't be so shy. He's just curious!"

I rolled my eyes at Arjun. The doctor pretended to peek under my skirt, but I wiggled free and got away from him. He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound, and made a knowing gesture to Arjun, both of them amused by my resistance. I felt flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. The words were crude, humiliating, yet an electric current shot through me, making my loins tingle. My body, despite my mind's protest, was responding to their brazen gaze and suggestive words.

I then re-adjusted my saree and we all sat down on the couch in the living room. Arjun asked the doctor about the medication I was taking for my allergies. He explained it in detail, and then looked disapprovingly at me and said, "Arjun, she really needs to take her health seriously. I've told her repeatedly she needs a full physical. Why the hesitation, Asha? Is it the exam itself, or... is it me?" I started to stammer an apology and promised I would schedule one soon.

Arjun then asked him what tests I needed.

"Just a basic exam, anything else would depend on her medical and family history," he replied.

Then, he asked Arjun, "Do you two use birth control? Would you like to get Asha started on birth control? I can take care of that."

Arjun said, "We've been using condoms, but it would be a great idea for her to start taking pills; neither of us likes condoms much."

My face turned bright red as the conversation became incredibly intimate.

Dr. Reynolds continued, "I would have to give her a pelvic exam and a breast exam before I could write a prescription." He then offered to make an appointment at his clinic for the next week. I felt nervous; a tremor of apprehension ran through me, but it seemed I didn't have much choice at that point. A strange sense of inevitability, almost a quiet acceptance, was beginning to settle in, a surprising shift from my earlier anxieties.

Arjun told him, "By the way, Asha is embarrassed about having a physical from a male doctor. It's fine by me, but you might want to ask Asha if she's OK with it."

Dr. Reynolds reassured me, "It's completely normal to feel a bit shy, Asha. Think of it as a thorough check-up, just for you. I'll make sure you are comfortable. If it helps, Arjun is welcome to accompany you during the exam. It's no biggie. "

Arjun was surprised but quickly agreed to come with me, so I pretty much had to agree to it as well.

Dr. Reynolds then assured me that he has many female patients and it's not a problem, unlike how it may have been in India. He then told Arjun, "Most of my female patients are older women; I have to admit that it's nice to have a pretty girl like Asha as a patient."

They both laughed. I blushed, but I was secretly pleased to hear the compliment. Deep down, a new, daring curiosity stirred in me, a willingness to explore this forbidden intimacy.

The doctor himself called us the next day to confirm the appointment next week. It seemed unusual for him to handle it personally, instead of having his office do it. It seemed that he was taking a personal interest in it, and Arjun seemed to be quite interested in it as well. On the day of my physical, I was a mix of nervous and excited. I took my time getting ready, driven by a new, almost unconscious desire to impress him. I wore a floral blouse and a flowing skirt that reached just above my ankles, put on my best makeup and perfume, and even gave myself a manicure and pedicure.

Arjun must have noticed my nervousness, and he tried to keep me calm, saying he would be with me throughout and that there was nothing to worry about. I didn't tell him that my excitement was an almost intoxicating feeling, a readiness to surrender to the intimate scrutiny of this doctor whom I found increasingly captivating.

At the clinic, a nurse showed us to the examination room and took my height, weight, temperature, pulse, and blood pressure. I had already filled out a form about my medical and family history. She looked at Arjun curiously when she realized that he was going to stay with me for the physical, but she didn't seem to mind it. She then told us to wait for the doctor.

After a short wait, Dr. Reynolds came in. He had a much more professional manner compared to how he was with us earlier, which actually put me at ease. He pointed to an exam gown that was on the table and said, "Alright, Asha, here's your gown. It's... quite light, I know. But you can wear it, or you can stay in your street clothes, whatever makes you more comfortable. I can work with either."

He then left us, telling us he would be back soon. I looked at the flimsy gown and decided against it.

"No way," I thought, "this is too much. I'll stick to my clothes."

He came back a few minutes later and started the exam with some casual small talk. He asked me some questions about my general health. He checked my eyes, ears, and throat, then my neck and shoulders. He listened to my heart and lungs with his stethoscope, placing it just above my cleavage, which was visible with my V-neck blouse. He then asked me to lie on my back on the examining table and raised my blouse until my abdomen was fully exposed. He started feeling my abdomen firmly with his fingers, and I trembled slightly at his touch, with an unsettling mix of apprehension and feeling his presence.

He explained what he was doing as he examined my liver, spleen, and other internal organs thoroughly, sometimes inserting his finger under the waistband of my skirt. Then he asked me to turn over, raising my blouse to my mid-back to examine my kidneys and spine.

"Now, for your breast exam, please undress to your waist," he instructed.

I hesitated, then sat on the table and slowly started to undo the snaps on the front of my blouse. Seeing me fumble with it, he said, "Take your time, Asha. No rush. We're just going to make sure everything's healthy."

Arjun helped me remove my blouse, revealing my lacy black bra. I undid the snaps at the back of the bra, took it off, and sat up, with my hands crossed in my lap. I felt so embarrassed to sit topless in front of both of them, feeling completely exposed under their combined gaze.

I have perky dark nipples that harden at the slightest touch, and I was very self-conscious as they were already sticking out due to a vague feeling of excitement and arousal. He asked me to raise my right hand, and checked my right breast, feeling my underarm and all around my breast in a circular motion, his bare hands pressing the flesh of my breasts. He asked if I had ever had discharge from my nipple, and when I said no, he still pressed a finger on it, bending it to one side and lightly squeezing it, making me wince. His fingers on my nipples sent delicious jolts through me, but his professional touch did not go beyond a mere tease.

He repeated the process with my left breast. He asked me if I did breast self-exams, and told me that I should do them regularly, showing me the area to cover with his hand again on my breast.

"You can put your clothes back on," he said. I put my bra back on, and Arjun helped me with my blouse.

"Alright, Asha, next is the pelvic exam. You can keep your skirt on, just slip off your panties. Arjun can help if you need," he announced.

I blushed furiously, shook my head, indicating that I didn't need help, then reluctantly got down from the table. I awkwardly reached under my skirt to lower my panties, which were lacy black and matched my bra. He helped me back onto the table, asked me to lie down and slide down, then raised my skirt to my waist and gently spread my knees apart, lifting my feet onto the supports on the examination table.

He switched on the spotlight, and my legs, thighs, and pubic area were completely exposed, glowing in the light. I had shaved cleanly for the exam, so I had everything looking very smooth down there, which is how I usually kept it anyway. I had also waxed my legs, hoping there wouldn't be any unsightly body hair visible.

He talked briefly about pelvic exams, adjusted the spotlight, and came right next to me, his gaze fixed on my most private area. I felt intensely self-conscious because no one besides Arjun had ever seen me this closely. I wondered what he thought about my brown pussy lips, and how they compared with the many other women he had surely examined.

He then gently spread my pussy lips apart, running his finger along the outer labia. He applied lubricant to his fingers, then gently inserted his index finger into my pussy. I thought it was unusual that he didn't wear gloves. He explained each step, examining my insides. He rolled one finger around my cervix, pressing it lightly. I squirmed a little, but he continued, adding his middle finger. I held my breath as I felt his fingers reaching deep inside me.

"I'm checking your uterus and ovaries, Asha, just relax and breathe normally," he said.

His hands were large, and it was overwhelming to feel two of his fingers deep inside me, a new sensation that jolted through my core, making me instinctively squirm not only from discomfort, but also a burgeoning desire. He twisted his fingers around, checking every direction, while pressing down firmly on my hairless pubic area with his other hand. The initial embarrassment was overwhelming, yet the intimate invasion by his strong, bare fingers brought an undeniable, almost shocking pleasure, a sense of being completely taken and submitting to his examination.

I could feel that I was wet already, and the lubricant must have made it very slick. I noticed his finger was really wet when he withdrew it. He said matter-of-factly, "It's good your body is very responsive, Asha, even to a simple examination. It is normal to feel a little tingle there; it shows you're healthy."

His words only helped to heighten my embarrassment.

He then got a speculum and gradually inserted it. I winced as I felt the cold material. I was completely exposed, my legs spread obscenely apart, my cleanly shaven pussy on display, held open so he could see deep inside. Arjun was also looking at me from behind, and I felt a deep shame thinking about how my most intimate areas were on display to a white man, with my husband looking on agreeably. The doctor then checked my cervix closely and took a sample for a Pap smear test.

"Next, I'll check your rectum for hemorrhoids or other abnormalities, Asha," he stated.

I hadn't expected that, and it seemed to surprise Arjun as well. The doctor removed my feet from the stirrups and asked me to turn over and lie on my stomach. As I turned, he raised my skirt to expose my buttocks and thighs completely. I was stunned when I realized my ass must have been clearly exposed in the spotlight. He spread my legs a bit until my anal area, and even my pussy, must have been clearly visible to both of them.

He then left me in that embarrassing position to wash his hands and get latex gloves from a cupboard. He put them on, squeezed out lubricant, and smeared it on his gloved index finger. He spread my butt cheeks apart with his left hand and gently inserted his index finger into my ass. I gasped and grabbed the edge of the table tightly; a sharp, unfamiliar sensation pierced through me, as I wasn't used to any anal contact.

"Just a little pressure, Asha. It will feel tight, but there's nothing to worry about. Relax those muscles for me," he said, as he inserted his finger all the way in and rolled it around for what seemed like a long time.

When he was done, he wiped the excess lubricant from my anal area. The shock of the unexpected touch, combined with the raw intimacy of the moment, sent a shiver of thrilling vulnerability through me.

He wrapped up the rest of the exam in a few minutes. He helped me get down, and I put my panties back on. He explained more about the birth control pills, gave me samples, and told me to start taking them daily, but advised us to continue using condoms for a few more weeks.

When we got home, Arjun seemed very aroused by the whole experience. I was surprised to find myself quite responsive to his caresses. I was wetter than I had ever been when he entered me. The entire encounter with the doctor, his intimate presence and knowing gaze, had ignited something deep within me.