I fantasized about my gynecologist fingering me
Dr. J was the kind of woman you instantly trust as a gynecologist, which makes the fantasizing kinda perverse. Seemed like she could be someoneâs mom. She had a name that suggested her demographics well: an Asian last name and a boomer first name, maybe in her 50s or 60s, though she wore her age very well. Excellent skin. She had a curl and highlights in her straight black hair. Accent like she had been living in California her whole life. Small; maybe my height, not even close to my weight class. She did not look like my mother, she was just similar demographically.
She had a good bedside manner, and reassured me I wasnât dying. She asked me to lie back on the table and spread my legs. I did, letting the hospital gown tent awkwardly over my front.
She told me she would press a finger inside me and check for symptoms. She slid a gloved finger easily in my wet fuck hole. I breathed, trying not to tense up. âDoes this hurt?â she said, pressing firmly on the inside of me, on the side of my belly button.
âNo,â I said. It felt good. The exam room was warm. I felt safe with her. I could feel my hole, so tight around her, growing wetter, drooling, begging for another soft finger.
âHow about this?â she said. Deeper inside me, pressing my cervix. It was a little uncomfortable, but the whole thing was ridiculous. A man in a gynecologistâs office, trying not to look directly into the fluorescent ceiling lights above, trying to ignore the smell of their arousal on the doctorâs fingers, deep inside their wet cunt. All because this doctor reminds them of their mother.
For a second I wondered if she could tell. She could look at me, horny mixed trans boy, and sense the mess of Asian mommy issues, and she could just keep stroking inside me. âYou have hysteria,â she would say. Wasnât that what they called it in the Victorian times, when doctors treated women by making them orgasm? She could say some medical technobabble about resetting a pressure point inside my vagina. âIâm going to take care of you,â I imagined her cooing. She could do literally anything with me. I could feel my pulse against her hand. Touch my clit, slide another finger in, fluttering. Eliciting moans, growls, feral sounds I didnât know I could make, just feeling her gentle fingers inside me, stroking. Her mouth, on my clit, sucking, my back arching, coming undone there in the exam room.
But of course she didnât do that. That wouldâve been fucked up. Crazy unprofessional. She slid her fingers out and said, âIf you had a pelvic infection that wouldâve hurt.â
I would play those moments in my head that night as I masturbated with my vibrator. Fingers inside myself, where hers had been. She was in me, stroking, the wetness lubricating. I came on my own hand, feeling the contractions over and over again. I imagined her pulling out her fingers, covered with slick juices, smirking. She was so hot, she was old enough to be my mother, she would probably be disgusted if she knew I was fantasizing about her, touching me in my most intimate place.
Yeah, not gonna sort out the oedipal complex. Iâm totally normal about Asian womenâŚfingering meâŚ