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He fussed with the string. What kind of idiot would design something like this! "Trouble?" Tim saw her leaning in the doorway. She wore a lab-coat that hung to her knees, but thankfully the buttons didn't go all the way down and when she re-crossed her legs, he got a glimpse of trim kneecaps. He wondered if she might be naked underneath and in a rare moment of benevolence, he forgave his girlfriend for forcing him to make the appointment. "This stupid thing," he said, hand groping. "My female patients don't complain." He smirked without spite. She was a tall woman, well over six feet, judging by the way she filled the doorway, but graceful in appearance, swan-like neck, arms, and legs. And when she moved, to breathe even, her breasts swam of their own free will beneath the soft cotton, suggesting they were governed by the whims of nature, not restricted by lace or elastic or straps. "You're cute. This should be fun!" Her smile was broad across a handsome face. She covered the distance between them and thrust out a hand. "Name's McCord ... Anna." She had a strong hand, long fingers with the nails buffed and trimmed. It was a man-to-man shake. ?Any problems with dizziness? Vertigo?? ?None.? ?Come stand by me, close your eyes and raise your foot. If you feel yourself fall, reach for me.? Tim desperately wanted to put his Bağcılar escort bayan hands on the woman. There was that independence of movement about her chest. He wondered what she would do if he reached out and accidentally landed a hand on her tit? No, he didn?t have the nerve, but he fell towards her. She steadied him and Tim reached, his hand landing on her shoulder blade. It was about the size of a shovel and as hard. He slid his hand along her back. He had been right, no bra. He touched her backbone, the flexing vertebrae, bones feeling like a chain of steel bearings. ?Whoa!? she exclaimed, pulling Tim back to his feet. ?This mean I flunked my sobriety test?? ?Sure does,? she said, with a a throaty chuckle. ?Better sit down.? Anna led him to her table. ?Here.? She patted the end. ?Hop up and swing your legs over. That?s it,? she said, adjusting her stethoscope. She listened to his heart, looked into his ears, studied the underside of his eyelids, his throat, and tapped his knees and elbows. She worked quickly and efficiently, only pausing to jot notes. ?Ok, now the real work!? She snapped her clipboard. ?You ready?? ?Yes,? he said, and was horrified when his voice cracked. ?You're nervous.? ?I guess,? Tim replied. ?Because I?m a woman? Some men ? well, I could refer you Escort Arnavutköy to a male practitioner.? ?It?s not that. It's just, I'm sorry, you?re kinda intimidating.? ?Intimidating?? ?Well, you?re so damned big.? ?Big?? The eyebrows knitted. ?Not fat, I mean. Christ, there's just so damn much of you. How tall are you anyway? You into sports?? She took a step closer and stooping to hold eye contact, she started laughing. It was hearty, from down deep. Her face seemed to break into fragments of light. ?I?m six-foot three,? she said. Holy shit! ?And? ?Forty-two.? ?And?"* ?One-forty-four.? ?Anf?? ?And, I?m not telling you my bra size!? She straightened, then said, ?I ski in winter and play tennis in summer. Now, if there are no more questions, lay back and let me get on with it or you won?t get a sucker.? ?Doctors still give out lollipops?? Tim asked. ?I've tutti-fruity, but only for good boys. Lay back and let me see what all the girls are raving about.? Tim dropped his head and watched as she stooped over the sink to wash. He wondered what she might look like in one of those tennis outfits. The men at her tennis club must love it. He let his eyes drift from her arched body to the far wall and a poster of a ?cut-away? woman, her reproductive organs neatly labeled. Anna's hand Avcılar escort was on his leg. The front of the smock was unceremoniously pushed above his waist. Nudging his knees apart with a hip and moving his penis aside, she cradled his scrotum. The room went very still. Anna felt a little shock of surprise as her fingers closed around the lone testicle. ?You've only got one,? she breathed. ?Uh-huh,? he confided, turning his gaze. She shook herself, focused. ?Trauma?" "Trauma?" "Yes. Accident? Physical abuse? Medical procedure?" she asked bluntly. "No." She lowered her eyes, cupped him and thought about the consequences. She ran her thumb and forefinger along his good testicle; she found the surface silky and smooth and instinctively closed her hand.*He found her touch gentle. She was studying his genitals. He liked the attention; being exposed and carefully examined. His limp penis rolled off his belly. Anna gently lifted it. He felt the tingling sensation. He felt so naked under her gaze and he studied the ?cut-away-lady? in an effort to control the hormones that threatened to stiffen his cock. ?This one seems fine,? Anne straightened, his scrotum still in her hand. ?But we need to find the other one. An impacted testis could become cancerous.? He desperately wanted to say something funny, to make light of the situation. ?You may feel some discomfort.? He racked his neck, tried to steady his voice. ?You do this kind of work often?? he asked. Her eyes puzzled. ?I do have a few male patients,? she said. ?And my ex didn?t have any complaints, at least not in this department.? And unbelievably, she gave him a playful squeeze.