Open a button in my blouse

Open a button in my blouse

I took office quickly and welcomed my first patients. The first were elderly men and women, who often had problems with bladder, hearing or simply old age. In short, nothing interesting to put in the tooth! Shortly after lunchtime, a man entered. He had a body of Apollo, green eyes and fleshy lips but when I tried an approach, as subtle as it is, he was forced to confess his homosexuality. I was still empty-handed, very excited and a little disappointed with this day.

The last client on the program was a septuagenarian whose arm was plastered and whose dark eyes fell a little too frequently at the level of my chest, which strengthens despite myself. The elderly were not really my cup of tea but my belly was boiling and I say to myself that after all, I could play well with him and satisfy him a little. Especially since with an arm in the plaster, he had to struggle to “evacuate” his desires.

While he was sitting on the bed, I decided to discreetly open a button in my blouse. When he saw the furrow of my breasts, the old man, who could have been my grandfather, was speechless. I put myself in front of him, so that he did not miss a crumb of the show, and positioned me between his legs apart. I smiled gently, placed the stethoscope tips in my ears and slipped the flag under his shirt. I heard her heart pounding as her eyes did not leave my chest and her body shuddered.

I continued my auscultation then felt his hand soft, injured but powerful to land on my hip and my buttocks as if nothing had happened. In my turn, my heart was pounding in front of so much daring, even rudeness.

“You are not very serious, Mr. Duton,” I said, smiling as I continued my analysis.
“I’m sorry,” he stuttered, promptly removing his hand. My hand slipped because of this damn plaster, he lied while blushing but still complimenting me on my beauty.
“Do not worry, we’ll soon be able to take it away,” I told him.
Once my inspection was over, I invited him to get up and position himself on the scale. I noticed a bump particularly well marked on his pants a little faded.

I smiled quietly biting my lower lip and, once he was on the scale, I leaned forward to the level of his pelvis and took my time to read the result displayed by the machine. The scent of his cologne intoxicated my senses. Even at a distance, I could feel his erection coming to my attention and I was not indignant, quite the opposite.

– You are good at the level of weight but you should not hesitate to eat more, I advised him standing up and seeing his eyes turn away from my ass. Do you exercise a lot?
– A little but unfortunately not as I would like, he replied, looking at his right arm plastered.
– You are married ? I asked curiously.
“Widower,” he replied with difficulty. And besides, I’m right-handed, “he added, laughing as if to relax the atmosphere.

I immediately understood the meaning and decided to smile at him.
– Nowadays there is always a way to find what you are looking for, I maliciously whispered.
“Oh, for old men like me, there is not much hope left,” he mumbled, following me to the office to settle his visit.

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