Delays

You slip out into the empty hallway with your hands clamped low over your cock, the cold tile biting at your bare soles. The corridor hangs thick with antiseptic and lemon cleaner as you count the doors, shoulders hunched, padding past the humming ice machine toward the third door on the left.

Your eyes dart toward every corner, paranoid that someone will step out into the hall at any second. Distant voices echo from the far intersection—approaching fast. You pick up the pace, reaching Exam Room B just as the chatter grows louder. Not daring to wait, you push the door open and duck inside as fast as you can.

When you look up, a sharp gasp cuts through the room. Dr. Bennett, a brown-haired woman in her mid-thirties, turns from her counter to stare at you—though the gasp came from the college girl sitting on the examination table in a crop top and jeans, a blood pressure cuff still dangling from her arm.

Dr. Bennett steps smoothly between you and the table, blocking the girl's view with her white coat as her eyebrows shoot up behind her frames. "Well. You must be Mr. Doe—you certainly know how to make an entrance." Behind her shoulder, the girl in the crop top immediately leans sideways off the crinkly paper, craning her neck around the doctor's hip to get another look at your bare thighs and cupped hands. When her eyes catch yours, she grins, lifts her thumb and pinky to her ear, and mouths Call me.

"Your intake was taking a while, so I pulled Chloe in for a quick blood pressure follow-up," Dr. Bennett says, her voice brisk and dry even as her gaze flicks down once to verify that yes, you are completely naked in her doorway. "Next time, knock. Go find Nurse Gabriela and let her know I need ten minutes."

"Wait, does he really have to leave?" Chloe asks, leaning further over the edge of the table as Bennett nudges you toward the exit. "I seriously don't mind sharing."

"I'm afraid I must insist," Bennett replies.

You spin around toward the door, giving up the only cover your hands aren't providing. From behind you, Chloe's voice rings out with sudden delight: "Never mind, I take it back! Making him leave was definitely the right call."

The comment jolts you straight out into the corridor, the back of your neck burning as the door clicks shut behind your bare ass.

Ten minutes. You just need somewhere to hide for ten minutes.

You hurry back down the cold tile toward Prep Room Three, keeping one hand cupped over your groin as you reach for the familiar metal handle with the other. You press down. It doesn't budge.

Panic prickles across your shoulders. Thinking the latch is just sticky, you let go of yourself and bring your second hand up to grip the handle, rattling it harder with both palms. Still locked.

"Careful, John, you're gonna break the hardware."

You freeze, your pulse leaping into your throat as Gabi's cheerful voice sounds right behind your shoulder. Caught completely off guard, you twist your upper body toward her with both hands still frozen around the steel lever behind your hip.

"I just put another patient in there to change," Gabi says pleasantly, holding your intake clipboard against her scrubs. "Dr. Bennett still with Chloe?"

"She said she needs ten minutes," you manage, your voice tight. "Can you unlock Prep Room One or Two? I just need a place to stand where I'm not—out here."

"Both occupied, sorry. We're packed this morning." She tilts her head toward the end of the hall. "Just go grab a seat up front in the waiting room. I'll call you back the second Exam Room B opens up."

"The waiting room?" you hiss, horrified. "Gabi, I can't go sit out there like this, there are three girls sitting right by the door! I can't just walk out naked in front of them, it would be—"

"John," Gabi interrupts softly, raising one eyebrow, "you're saying no, but another part of you is nodding yes." Her gaze drops deliberately to your waist—with both hands still gripping the locked door handle behind you, your stiffening cock is jutting out completely free and uncovered in the conditioned air, bobbing up and down with your racing pulse.

Heat floods your face as you follow her eyes down. Before you can snatch your hands off the handle to cover yourself, Gabi steps in and presses the wide medical clipboard and pen directly into your palms.

"Here," she says, her smirk curling into mock sympathy. "You still have three pages of patient history to fill out anyway. Two birds, one stone."

You don't argue. You immediately press the smooth backing of the board flat against your groin with the white pages and heavy metal clip facing outward, pinning your rigid shaft straight up against your lower stomach so it won't tent the plastic out at an angle. Held low enough to keep your balls hidden from the front, the cold backing presses flat against your throbbing length—and when you glance straight down, the flushed tip of your glans is nearly peeking over the top edge against your abs.

Gabi steps back half a pace, inspecting your handiwork from the front with an approving nod. "See? That is much better coverage."

Then she steps casually around to your left, placing her warm palm squarely against the bare skin at the small of your back to guide you down the hall. From her new vantage point beside your hip, the narrow gap between the flat board and your pelvis leaves the thick, trapped profile of your erection and your bare ass completely exposed to her view.

"From some angles, anyway," she adds mildly, giving you a gentle nudge forward.

Your bare feet drag across the linoleum as she steers you toward the hallway door leading back to reception. Three steps from the threshold, you plant your heels, forcing her to stop. Through the thin wood, you can hear the faint murmur of conversation from the waiting chairs.

"Wait—stop," you whisper frantically, clutching the edges of the clipboard tighter against your hips. "I'm serious, I can't just walk out there and flash a room full of college girls. Somebody's going to scream or call campus security."

Gabi sighs as if you're being terribly dramatic, though her dark eyes are dancing. "You know what? That is so thoughtful of you to worry about their comfort, John. Let's ask."

Before you can grab her arm, she steps past you, cracks the hallway door open a foot, and props it with her hip—leaving you pinned just out of sight behind the wall while the warm air of the lobby spills across your bare chest.

"Excuse me, ladies?" Gabi calls out in her brightest, most professional nurse voice. The quiet murmur in the waiting room stops dead. "Quick patient survey! Our ten-forty appointment had a minor laundry emergency and our male exam shorts are still on backorder. He needs to wait out here for ten minutes with just a clipboard, and he's very worried about making anyone uncomfortable. Do any of you mind sharing the waiting area with him?"

For one excruciating second, the lobby goes dead silent.

"Mind?" It's the blonde in the cut-off shorts, her voice ringing out bright and shameless. "Are you kidding? Our phones are dying out here, we'd love something to look at!"

"Wait—if it's that hunk from earlier, tell him thank you," the girl beside her chimes in, followed by a burst of breathless laughter.

Then the third girl—the one who bit her lip when you walked in—calls out clearest of all: "We definitely don't mind, Gabi! In fact, tell him to lose the clipboard!"

Gabi pulls her head back into the hallway and lets the door swing wide open, looking up at your crimson face with a triumphant, wicked little smile.

"Unanimous medical clearance," she whispers, her hand sliding back to the bare curve of your lower spine to push you across the threshold. "Take any open chair, John—and don't forget to actually fill out those forms."