Broken Desires

Chapter One

Sofia pressed down on her legs, stilling the tremble threatening to overtake her entire body. Couldn’t believe she was doing this. Such a stupid game their little private Facebook group played every year. They’d gotten Sofia good this year though. That’s what she got for running her mouth about the hot gynecologist she had a secret crush on. And what were the odds that her best friend Dara would pull her name. They probably fixed the drawing. And lo and behold, she’d dared her to shave her vagina and make an appointment with the dude!
You think he likes you, you like him, make an appointment, see what happens.

Insane. Nobody got dates with
a dude who made a living mining vaginas. Jesus, this was nuts. Didn’t matter now, this wasn’t about getting a date anymore, this was about surviving what she started. She was all big talk in the group, no way was she backing down, she’d never hear the end of it.

As it was, her interest in the doc was totally one sided. S
he’d lied about his side of the infatuation, the man didn’t know she existed. He merely shopped at the same supermarket as she did, at the same times. He had eyes only for the produce and the way he handled the veggies would make any woman envious. The supposed eye contacts, the shared smiles—all harmless little white lies. How pathetic she was.

The only thing that wasn’t a lie was her need for a che
ckup. She was way way behind.

“Miss Parsons?”

Sofia’s heart lodged in her throat as she leapt up from her chair.

The petite blond nurse smiled as
Sofia went through the door. “The bathroom first, I need a urine sample. Cups are on the table in there with markers. Just write your name on the cup and bring it to the counter.” She pointed behind her. “After that, we’ll weigh you and take your blood pressure, okay?”

“Okay.”
Sofia smiled and hurried to the bathroom. Despite telling herself this was only about the checkup now, the second she was inside, she did a panic makeup and hair check. Then did the disgusting urine thing, cleaning her bottom with the antiseptic wipes before and after. She’d bathed like she was meeting with the Pharaoh of Egypt, shaved all her parts baby smooth as directed. She’d damn near patted glittery powder down there then worried he’d think Vegas Vagina instead of Fairy Princess.

She mash
ed her lips together for an even blend of color then walked out with her nearly full cup of golden liquor. She froze in panic at seeing the doctor five feet before her, speaking with a nurse. Shit. She spun around and urine sloshed out of the cup, onto her hand.

“Miss Parsons?” the nurse called.

“Um, coming.” Sofia glanced over her shoulder, trying to figure out where the hell to wipe the urine. She headed back in the bathroom and cleaned herself off then carefully entered the little gyno freeway of activity. Jesus, the space was too damn condensed.

About five minutes later, Sofia sat her naked ass on
the crinkly paper covered table, holding the gown shut at her back with one hand, while inspecting her perfectly painted toenails
. Dr. Fletcher. Daniel Fletcher. Not Daniel, just Dr. Fletcher. You will behave professionally. No small talk unless he prompts. And if he does, no chattering on and on. And especially no sexual cracks. Keep all questions…gynelogical. Gynelogical? Was that a word? Could be. But better not use it.

Sofi
a jumped when the door opened and that hunk walked in. Shit, he was bigger up close. Brad Pit bone structure with Tom Cruise’s eye and hair color. Sweet baby Jesus.

“Miss Sofia?”

Add orgasmic voice to that. Nice and silky. Deep. “Yes, that’s…that’s me.” She cleared her throat, only it brought up a bucket load of phlegm that caught in her windpipe and set her on an esophagus clearing marathon.

“You okay?” he asked, when the
minor clearing turned to coughing.

She held her hand up, turning her head
away while nodding.

“
Do you need to get some water?”

She shook her head, hacking,
and then oh hell, her gagging reflex kicked in.
This can’t be happening.
Before she realized, the good doc presented a cup of water to her. She took it and gulped the entire thing down, finally able to breathe air.

“Jesus. I’m-I’m fine.”
Her voice wheezed like a cancer patient with only half a lung and ten minutes till death. “Sorry. Went down the wrong pipe.”

“It’s okay.” He sat in a chair three feet before her and she finally chanced a look at him while wiping…
oh shit…black tears
from her face. Then she noticed the perplexity in his brow. “Don’t…don’t I know you?”

She pointed at herself. “Me? Oh no, I mean, no, I don’t think you do. I don’t know you, that’s for sure.
I think I’d remember a face like yours.” Ohhhh crap, really?

He lowered his face but not before she caught his grin. Well, this was fantastically humiliating. He took up his clip board. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’m ready if you are.”

“Oh yeah, sure. I’m ready.”

“Before we do your physical exam, are there any problems you’re having that you’d like to discuss?”

“Oh, right. Ummm…” she looked up at the ceiling. “Period seems to be fine. Uh.” She looked at her hands in her lap. The idea to talk about sex presented itself and before she could think too long about it, she dove right in. “I’m not really sure if this is a physical problem or not but…” she chewed her lip. “It’s…sexual.”

“
Okay.” His voice was nonchalant as he sat there all relaxed looking.

She began scraping her nail
polish off. “I seem to have a problem um…you know. With the pleasure parts.”

“How so?”

God, she was really doing this. No way could she look at him. “Maybe it’s not a problem, maybe it’s a myth, I’ve heard it was. From some women.”

“Ah,” he said. “Are you referring to the G-spot?”

She met his gaze then snapped it back to her lap. “Yes. That.”

“It does exist, but it’s not always the same for every woman.”

“It does?” She forced her gaze to his, straining to match his indifference. “Where? I mean, where is this fantastic place?”  

“I
can show you in the exam, if you like.”

Demonic butterflies hacksawed her guts. He’d show her? “Okay.”

“Any other problems?”

“Well, since I’ve gone this far, might as well finish. Okay, so, you know how you’re supposed to be able to orgasm from the G-spot and that other place?”

“The clitoris.” More casual, borderline monotony in his tone. Like he’d said the elbow.

“Yes. That.”

“You’re having problems with climaxing from the clitoris?”

She cleared her throat. “Well...yeah.”

“Do you have a significant other?”

“Um, no. I don’t.”
Oh my frikn God, he’ll know I
masturbate!

“So, you’re having problems when you masturbate?”

Her face went up in flames.

“Look, don’t be embarrassed, this is all entirely natural and normal.”

And boring if she went by his tone. She gasped a light laugh. “Good to hear it. Sure isn’t easy for me.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Shit, shit, shit. What was the problem? It was all true what she’d said, she just never dreamed she’d be having this conversation with him. No rehearsed lines. “Well, I don’t know, honestly. I just can’t…cross the finish line if you know what I mean.”

“How long do you try?”

“Um, well. I don’t really use a timer, so--”

He chuckled. “Ten minutes? Fifteen? Thirty?”

She looked up at the ceiling and took a huge breath. “Maybe…thirty.” She nodded as casual as she could.

“Do you use any aids?
Vibrators, dildos?”

She
suddenly wanted out of this conversation, out of his office, and off of planet earth. There was nothing but business in his tone, and frankly, it felt like
none of his.
“None, zero,” she lied. “Maybe I should try? Yes, that’s a good idea. Anyway, that’s about it. What’s next?”

He
regarded her with eyes that
knew.
Knew she was lying but thought that normal too and so graciously let it ride. He stood and opened the door. “Susan?” He turned back to me. “Next is your external exam, I’ll be checking your breasts and vulva, then we’ll get you in the stirrups for the pelvic exam. And then we’re done.”

My
vulva?
“Oookay.” This was
such
a stupid idea. She needed to stop this before they got on the vagina coaster to hell. The man was not interested in her, this much was clear. Not physically, anyway. She was a hound when it came to the opposite sexual attraction, and he was a flat-liner, a dud, a bad egg. And well, she’d technically done as dared. They didn’t say she had to
finish
the exam. 

The nurse came in
with a pleasant smile and shut the door. Great, nurse voyeur 101. Fuck that. Sofia put her hands over her face and moaned.

“Are you okay?” the good doc asked.

She shook her head. “No, I’m not. Dizzy. Need to eat. My sugars…” She slid off the table and went in reverse toward the bamboo accordion divider behind her. “I’ll have to reschedule, I’m
so
sorry. I need to go take my medicine. Stupid me, I forgot, I’ve been stressed lately.”

“Are you sure? Can you drive okay?”
he asked.

“Yes, yes, my meds are in my car, I’ll be fine.”

“Well, would you like to come back up after you—”

“No, no. I can’t,”
she said from behind the makeshift wall. “I’ll have to call and reschedule, I’m so sorry, of course I’ll pay for the visit, for wasting your time.”

“Alright then. Call the office as soon as possible, it’s not good to neglect these checkups.”

“Absolutely, I will.” First thing next millennium, doc.

****

Daniel was still grinning several hours after Sofia left. She’d chickened out. Had she actually faked a diabetes episode? Forgotten the nurse inquired about that when filling out her health history?  No doubt.

She was
undeniably original.
I don’t use a timer.
Damn if that wasn’t…
precious
. Had he seen her some place before? The way she’d blushed at all the sexual references wasn’t a good sign. She wasn’t a virgin physically, but in every other aspect? Definitely. He wasn’t convinced that was a deal breaker, though. His women had to be mature and experienced sexually, and not afraid of bondage. But since she had opened up about her
pleasure parts
issues, he kept her in the game. It was a positive but hardly a slam dunk.

He’d have to play this wild card by ear.

Daniel
left work, a little relieved that he was finally past the guilt hump that came with using his profession as the staple source of his
pleasure
addiction. He only wished he could escape the self-disgust of being just like the biological sack of bones he hated. No, not just like; Daniel had made sure to create as many differences between him and his father as he could. Beginning with quality control. Daniel was upper class, and the piece of shit that called him son was gutter matter. Where his father was a dirty slut, he was a sophisticated one. Where he was sloppy with his sins, Daniel was neat and orderly. Where he gave himself entirely to his filthy cock’s needs, Daniel practiced restraint.