The Check-Up

Posted in: Fetish

Contrary to popular opinion, I love going to the dentist. The main reason was that I got to see women wearing latex examination gloves. Sure, I could see that sort of thing on any police or medical television drama, but seeing in real life was far more exhilarating, not to mention more arousing. Yes, I admit it, I am a latex glove fetishist and have been since I was twelve. It started when I first donned on a pair and masturbated. Needles to say, it was love at first sight, or rather first touch. And throughout my adolescence, it had always been a fantasy of mine to have a girl give me a handjob while wearing latex gloves. Of course, that fantasy was never realized until I had reached adulthood when I went for my semi-annual dental check-up.

I had arrived early. My appointment was at 2:30 PM, so I was fifteen minutes early. I checked in at the receptionist’s window and sat down, eagerly awaiting my turn to see Dr. Erin Birkin. I quivered with anticipation as I watched the hands of the round wall clock slowly approach 2:30. My eyes darted from the red second hand to the black minute hand and back again. The fifteen minutes seemed to stretch out infinitely. I wondered what the hell was taking so long.

I saw door to the right of the receptionist’s window open and some ursline, goofy-eyed man stepped out. He regarded me briefly with those goofy hazel-colored eyes and then looked away. He exited the waiting room not to long after that. As I tried to shake that hulk of a man’s image out of my head, the door opened again. A petite brunette dressed in aquamarine scrubs stood in the threshold and said my name. I stood up, relieved that my waiting was over, and headed towards her.

“Hi, I’m Nicole,” she said while extending her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Nicole,” I replied formally as I shook it.

I let go of her hand after a couple of seconds, even though I still wanted to keep touching it. On top of being a latex glove fetishist, I also love hands, female ones. Gloves weren’t anything without hands to fill them.

Nicole led the way down the narrow hall to the exam room. As we walked, my eyes scanned her backside. I suppressed the urge to slap her tight little ass. Had I not done so, she, no doubt, would have slapped me across the face. And since I do not enjoy physical pain, I felt I had done the right thing by holding back.

Nicole and I entered Exam Room 2, according to the gray plastic plaque on the door. She sat me down on the chair and draped a paper bib over my chest. I briefly stared at her breasts as she did it.

“Dr. Birkin will see you in a few moments,” Nicole declared before leaving the room.

This alone time before Dr. Birkin’s arrival provided the opportunity for me to snatch a pair of latex gloves. There were two boxes on a counter to my right, next to the open door. I had to move swiftly in order to avoid detection. I waited for what seemed the right moment, and I sprang from the chair. One of the boxes contained small-sized gloves, while the other contained medium-sized ones, which was what I wore. Nervously, I pulled out a pair from the box marked MEDIUM when I saw the lovely figure of Dr. Erin Birkin standing in the threshold. I froze with an emotional amalgam of fear and embarassment. I was dreading her reaction.

But she was not angry or irritated. She looked amused actually, which no doubt surprised me. I thought I was going to be lectured about stealing.

“Do you like those?” Dr. Birkin asked, her voice purring with sensuality.

“Yes,” I said, still overcoming my frozen state.

A saturnine grin appeared on her comely, round face.

“I do too,” she said.

Well at least she and I had something in common. But I wondered if she enjoyed them the way I did. If she did, it was a thrilling concept.

“Next time, just ask me or Nicole if you want a pair,” Dr. Birkin said, her voice now less sensual and more authoritative.

“OK,” I said. “So I can keep these?”

My palms and fingertips were moist with nervous persperation.

“Of course you can,” she said assuringly.

I pocketed the purloined gloves and sat back down.

Dr. Birkin stood over me and teasingly said, “You thought that I was going to yell at you, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said, still recovering from my frightened state.

“It’s alright,” she said soothingly while she petted my right shoulder with her left hand. “Guys take gloves from me all the time.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, all the time, especially young guys, your age and younger. Some girls do too.”

I had regained most of my composure now and I was feeling bolder and more confident, so I asked, “Do they tell you what they use them for?”

“No,” Dr. Birkin replied. “But then again, they don’t really need to. I already know anyway. They either inflate them for laughs or they….”

“They what?” I interjected.

“Well, I don’t think I need to tell you what other activity people use them for.”

No, she did not. I felt slightly embarassed that Dr. Birkin had suspicions of what I did with latex gloves. I was raised to regard masturbation as unhealthy behavior, but I could never view it that way. Plus the alternatives, total abstinence or perpetual fornication, were both impossible and unthinkable. I was never well-liked by the ladies and the idea of gay sex never appealed to me, so masturbation was my only sexual outlet.

Dr. Birkin let go of my shoulder as soon as Nicole returned. The two of them began organizing their tools to perform my cleaning and exam. I watched them carefully. Although Nicole was cute, my eyes were on Dr. Birkin. She was more alluring to me, one reason being that she was not wearing those unflattering aquamarine scrubs like poor Nicole was. Instead, Dr. Birkin wore a white smock with a creme-colored satin blouse and a black skirt underneath, looking rather classy.

In fact, Dr. Birkin reminded me of a classy actress I have fancied for a while. I don’t know her real name, but she played Samantha on “Sex and the City.” I could never remember actors’ or actresses’ real names, even though their names appear on the main titles. I guess I never pay any attention to that part of the program. Nevertheless, Dr. Birkin’s resemblance to that actress was striking. I wondered if anyone has ever pointed that out to her? How would she react if I told her? Would she take it as a complement or an insult? Or would dismiss it entirely? I did not bother to risk it.

I continued to watch Dr. Birkin and Nicole prepare for my cleaning and exam. I did not pay so much attention to the beginning, since I did not know what exactly what they were doing. But my attention was raised whenever Dr. Birkin and Nicole headed to where the latex gloves were. They both pulled out a pair. Nicole grabbed a pair out of the SMALL box while Dr. Birkin fetched a pair out of the MEDIUM box. Nicole walked behind the chair as she started putting on the gloves. I could hear the hissing sounds the latex made as she stretched it onto her hands. Unfortunately, I did not get to see too much of Nicole donning the gloves, so I focused on Dr. Birkin.

She slowly walked toward me as her right hand entered one of the latex gloves. Her beautiful, football-shaped brown eyes, accentuated by dark eye-shadow, locked onto mine as she donned the glove. Dr. Birkin pulled on it tightly and released it, making the glove snap. I felt the blood rush into my penis that moment. She shoved her left hand into the other glove and raised her left arm as her digits found their positions. Dr. Birkin pulled the glove even tighter and released it, which resulted in an even louder snap. My cock continued to stiffen, but it was not fully erect yet. She winked at me as she turned to retrieve her safety glasses and two disposable masks. She handed one to Nicole and put the other one on, followed by the glasses. I turned
my head to the left and watched Nicole put on the mask with her latex-gloved hands. She then reached below the chair and flipped a switch
that made it recline, and another to raise the base up. Dr. Birkin flipped on the the switch to the overhead lamp and positioned the light on my mouth. She grabbed an explorer and a mirror and leaned over me.

“Open for me, please,” Dr. Birkin asked.

And so I did. At my old dentist’s office, a hygenist would normally do this job, but I guess Dr. Birkin either could not afford one or just did not want one. Besides, I preferred Dr. Birkin leaning over me than anyone else. I felt relaxed around her. She was careful and gentle with those tools as she checked for plaque. I found myself closing my eyes and dozing off while the procedure took place. But the soft, sensual feeling of her latex-covered knuckles resting on my cheeks kept me awake and excited. My penis kept getting harder and harder over an agonizingly slow period. It was fully erect midway through and I wondered whether or not either one of them noticed.

I saw Nicole’s sharp, narrow little eyes occasionally glance down at my crotch. She managed to suppress a giggle at one time. I guess she noticed.

I don’t know how long the procedure took. My internal clock needed serious recalibrating, so I could not trust it. But if I had to hazard a guess, I’d say it took roughly a half-hour, give or take a few mintues. I knew it was done when Dr. Birkin shut off the lamp and moved it aside.

“OK, your teeth look good,” Dr. Birkin declared. “You have no cavities and it looks like you’ve been flossing more.”

“I have,” I said proudly.

Dr. Birkin took off her glasses and set them on the counter behind her. Then she and Nicole removed their masks and yanked off their gloves. They bunched them together and threw them away. I noticed Nicole whisper something to Dr. Birkin while they were discarding their masks and gloves. They both giggled afterwards and turned back to me, smiling.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

Suppressing her snickering, Dr. Birkin said, “Nicole has noticed that you were experiencing a little…stiffening.”

She pointed to my crotch as she that. I could feel myself blush as I heard her. They both knew now. I looked down and noticed the tent that had popped up in my khakis.

“Now I can only imagine how uncomfortable that must be for you,” Dr. Birkin continued. “So, would you like us to take care of it for you?”

Although her words were hidden with intimation, I knew exactly what she was suggesting.

“Are you serious?” I asked.

“Oh yes,” Dr. Birkin replied.

“Definitely,” Nicole added.

I’d a be a fool to refuse them. After all, this was what I had always wanted throughout my adolescence and now in early adulthood.

“Sure,” I said, not trying to sound too eager and desprite.

“But you must swear to whatever you hold sacred, that you will not tell anyone,” Dr. Birkin declared.

“Scout’s honor,” I said as I raised my left hand, which was ironic since I was never a Boy Scout, or even a Cub Scout. I wasn’t even a Royal Ranger.

Dr. Birkin closed and locked the door while I saw Nicole open a drawer and fish a roll of masking tape. She began to pull the tape off the roll.

“What’s that for?” I asked.

“We both feel more comfortable knowing where your hands are at all times,” Dr. Birkin said.

Whatever they needed to do in order to fulfill my fantasy was all right by me, even if it involved a little bondage.

Nicole taped my wrists to the arm rests. I could move my fingers but not much else. She then unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled down my khakis, followed by my underwear. My gentials were now exposed.

“Not bad for a short white guy,” Nicole said while scanning them.

“Yup,” Dr. Birkin added. “Not bad at all.”

It was no doubt the best compliment I have received in a long time.

They headed toward the counter and retrieved fresh pairs of latex gloves. Their right hands entered their gloves in unison and both stretched out the latex really tight and released them, resulting in a very loud snap. They did the same with their left hands.

Nicole headed to my left and cupped my balls with her left hand while she reached underneath my golf shirt with her right hand. I reveled in how soft Nicole’s latex-gloved hands were. Dr. Birkin seized my stiff penis with right hand and placed her left hand over my mouth. My pleasured doubled when I felt her latex-gloved hands on me in addition to Nicole’s.

“Let’s begin,” Dr. Birkin said.

She began stroking my cock and the sensation was magnificent. Her grip was firm, but not too firm, and her rhythm was neither too slow nor too fast. It was at the proper tempo, whatever that was. I had no way of providing a proper measurment, but I knew it was right. Dr. Birkin definitely knew what she was doing. She probably had plenty of experience.

Nicole ran her latex-gloved thumb over my testicles as if she was turning a pair of those Chinese meditation balls. That felt great too, as well as her other hand running up my chest. I felt a slight caress on my left nipple, followed by a gentle pinch. After that, my penis was not the only thing that was erect.

I felt hot semen spew out of my penis like a volcano. Usually, I would stop here, but Dr. Birkin kept going. I guess she wanted to squeeze out every last bit of the white stuff.

“Well, that should take care of the swelling,” she remarked.

Indeed, it did, as well as my long-time desire. Nicole let go of my tesicles and my nipple, and then flipped the switches that lowered the chair’s base and propped up its back. I noticed some semen on Dr. Birkin’s right index finger and thumb. She wiped the remaining semen that was still on my cock onto her the palm of her glove. After that, she yanked it off and threw it away. She ran her left gloved hand through my hair.

“Did you enjoy that, Sweetie,” she asked while petting me.

“I did,” I said, it being the only response I could muster with my sexual euphoria.

“I’m glad.”

I easily broke free of my masking tape bonds. When my hands were free, I immediately pulled up my underwear and khakis, buttoning and zipping them as I stood up. Dr. Birkin removed my paper bib and then yanked off her other glove. After that, she took my chart and began writing in it while Nicole organized my dental health kit, which included a toothbrush, toothpaste, and dental floss. She put them all in a little plastic bag, and then I noticed her write something on the bag itself.

Nicole smiled as she handed me the kit and said, “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

I noticed she still had her gloves on.

“By the way,” I added. “Thank you both very much for…taking care of my swelling.”

Dr. Birkin looked up, smiled, and said, “It was our pleasure.”

As well as it was mine. I stood there for a minute, wondering if they were going to say or do anything else. But they did not, aside for their usual post-procedural duties. So, we said our “good-byes” and I headed out. I stopped at the receptionist’s window to pay my bill. After that, I headed out to my car. Before firing up the ignition, I read the writing on the bag.

It was two phone numbers. The top one had Dr. Birkin’s name next to it and the bottom one had Nicole’s name. Below the numbers was a message, “Call anytime after 7:30PM.” I wondered what this meant. Was this an invitation to a liasion or something less physical? In either case, I had a feeling my love life was going to get very interesting very soon.


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