Breathing test.

Mrs. Olivia placed the earpieces of the stethoscope in her ears. "Just continue breathing deeply," she said standing at my side, placing the ear of the stethoscope on my back. I had taken about two breaths, when she suddenly reached around and grasped my cock in a familiar way, almost the same way I do when masturbating, rendered exotic due to the unfamiliarity of the hand that was doing the grasping.

"Breath in... and out... in... and out..." She began stroking my penis in rhythm with my breathing. I could feel the eyes in the waiting room watching intently. "In... and out... in... out... in... out... in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out." She stroked faster and faster, and soon I was not breathing deeply, but outright panting. It was hard to believe this was happening, but any doubts I may have had were wiped away by the sheer overwhelming reality of the sensations she was causing me to have. I don't know if it was the clearly practiced to perfection technique she used, or some heightened sensitivity due to whatever ailed me, or some combination thereof, but it felt electrifying.

She continued listening to my back, every once in a while moving the stethoscope to my bare chest, then back again. She had stopped saying "in" and "out", and allowed her stroking to be the cue. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that the still pantless nurse's aide had plunged her fingers into her snatch, and seemed to be masturbating sympathetically.

I felt close to finishing, in the sense all hand jobs, self administered or otherwise, are meant to end. My breath caught in my throat.

Mrs. Olivia must have been listening for this signal, because she stopped stroking, instead suddenly grasping my member tightly in such a way as to prevent my orgasm, took a look at the timer she wore on her wrist, and evidently marked the result on her clipboard. Despite everything else that had happened so far, in that moment this seemed the most intolerable thing of all, her leaving me on the edge like that, and had it not been for my embarrassment, I would have continued where she left off. I made plans to sneak off to the boy's room after leaving the nurse's office, and finish it off if possible, so I wouldn't have a raging boner the rest of the day.

The show over, the girls in the waiting room returned their attention to their magazines, their conversation, or the nude girl with the now half-drained enema bag who sat among them.

I turned to Mrs. Olivia, still intently concentrating on her clipboard. She had several fingers, sticky with my precum, held within her mouth, sucking them absentmindedly, lost in thought.

I spoke up even though so far she's shown no interest in what I had to say. "Is that all? Can I go now? Are we almost done?"