“Sean, I …” I started to protest, and then a thought occurred to me. Was he … inviting me to play? It would be just like him to find out what he wanted to know under the guise of kink. He was almost too good at it and, despite my aches and pains, the thought of it was making me wet. Our play sessions were always spontaneous rather than scheduled because trying to read the other’s intentions and figure out if we were operating in reality mode or play mode was half the fun.

“Yes?” he asked.

"You know how I feel about the doctor,” I said reluctantly.

He nodded and then took my ear lobe gently between his teeth.“ I do,” he said as he slowly planted kisses up my neck and into my hair. “But I’m worried about you, Chels. I think someone needs to have a good, long look at you,” he said seductively, punctuating each word with a kiss, then moving his hands to my shoulders and gently massaging my achy muscles. My heart started beating faster with each word he said, and my body started responding to him like it always did, like a swarm of butterflies fluttering just above the surface of my skin, awakening every nerve ending and giving me chills.

He picked me up in his arms and I could feel the rise and fall of his chest and hear the strong, steady beating of his heart as he held me close. He walked me over to the stairway. I loved the smell and feel of him and relished how safe and adored he made me feel when he held me like this. It was heavenly. When we reached the landing, Sean set me back on my feet and gave my bottom a gentle push up the stairs.

“I think I’ll go change for bed now …”

“Good. Why don’t you wear that nightgown tonight, babe,” Sean said. “You know the one I like.” Sean was good at this. He knew that a big part of the turn on for me was being told to undress and change into a gown, and the inevitability of what was to come. I knew from previous play exams that this meant he wanted me to change into a front-opening patient gown. We had a few for precisely this purpose.

“Is that really necessary?” I asked hesitantly.

“I’m afraid so,” Sean said seriously. “I need to be able to examine you thoroughly. I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

I made my way slowly up the stairs, moist with anticipation and smiling to myself. My hubby was such a good listener. I told him I wanted to get in bed, but wasn’t ready to turn in. Now he was going to see to it that I didn’t. I walked through our bedroom to the master bathroom and opened the closet. Inside there were a few folded gowns underneath a mountain of folded bath towels. I pulled one out, shook it open and rested it on the counter. Then I began to undress, starting with my black yoga pants, pulling them down my legs and stepping out of them.

Next came my tunic top, and then the camisole underneath, until I was left standing in my bra and panties. As I unhooked my bra, I faced the full-length mirror and watched as my firm, smooth breasts were exposed to the air, making my nipples pucker in response. Standing there in nothing but my panties, I reached for the gown and shrugged it on, wrapping it around me like a robe.

As I lay in our bed, I closed my eyes and took deep breaths in and out to manage my excitement. I was grateful for the distraction of my arousal, as it took my mind off of the achiness and sore throat that were still brewing. I could feel the summer evening air moving through the windows, causing our sheer, full length curtains to billow gracefully into the room.

A moment later, I sensed a subtle shift of the air in the room and knew, even with my eyes still closed, that Sean had walked through the doorway.

“Are you ready Chelsea?” he asked, walking over to the bed and sitting carefully at my side. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He was so beautiful. Sean had changed into a fresh pair of scrubs, and had his Littmann Cardiology IV stethoscope, which he knew was my favorite, draped around his shoulders. He knew I was an auscultation junkie. I admired his strong, capable hands and the large, heavy stainless-steel watch that he always wore on his left wrist.

“I think so,” I said nervously. He smiled and tucked my hair behind my ear in that endearing way he always did.

“I don’t want you to be nervous. Why don’t you sit up for me?” he said, grabbing some pillows to prop behind me as I sat up in bed, careful to keep the gown closed. “I’d like to talk with you before we get started.”

I loved how he knew just what to do to draw out the suspense. As a doctor he knew what to do and as my lover he knew exactly how to do it.

“I thought …” I started to say. He shook his head knowingly.

“We’ll get to the exam. Let’s talk about your symptoms first, okay?” he said with a calm authority that was totally hot.

“I’m tired with body aches and a sore throat,” I said.

The other fun thing about these exams was that they served a practical purpose. When we were finished, I wouldn’t just be sated sexually, I’d also know exactly what was wrong with me. There were real benefits to being married to a kinky physician.

Sean studied me as I spoke, arms crossed over his chest and eyes fixed on my lips.

“Abdominal pain? Nausea or vomiting?”

“No.”

“Feverish? Chills? Anything like that?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t checked, but I don’t feel like I have a fever.”

Sean nodded and was silent for 10 or 15 seconds. I could see his wheels spinning and got excited wondering what he was planning.

“And … the body aches. Is that everywhere, or just in some places?”

“It’s pretty diffuse,” I said warily. “Kind of like the achiness you get when you have the flu.” Sean nodded thoughtfully.

“Okay. I’m going to check your temperature and your pulse right now. It’s important to know if you have a fever,” he said, getting down to business. He reached into his bag, which I hadn’t noticed before, and produced a digital thermometer. He swept it smoothly across my forehead and looked at the reading:

“101.9. You do have a low-grade fever,” he commented, almost to himself. Next, he turned my wrist palm side up and placed two fingers gently on my radial pulse. “I’m going to feel your pulse, and then we’ll get started with the exam. Just relax, and breathe nice and easy,” he said, lowering his head to monitor the second hand on his watch. He knew just how to stretch things out to turn me on, so he made me sit there and wait a full 60 seconds.

“Okay,” he said, taking his hand from my wrist with a perfunctory smile. “Your pulse is quite fast. Can you feel that Chelsea?” I nodded slowly and watched as he leaned in to gently loosen the opening of the gown I’d been so busy trying to keep closed.

“It’s okay,” he said with quiet reassurance. “Do you feel like your heart is racing?” he asked, his gorgeous hands swiftly lifting the stethoscope from his shoulders and plugging it in. “Just try to relax, love,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on me as he slid his hand inside my open gown, “and let me have a listen.”

He lowered his head like he always did when he listened to my heart, lingering for what seemed an eternity at the pulmonic valve and then moving the diaphragm almost imperceptibly down to my tricuspid, and I swear I almost had an orgasm on the spot.

“Very good,” he said, letting the stethoscope hang down from his neck because he knew it drove me wild to see him like that. “Now. What I’ll have you do is lie back for me.”

“Okay,” I said quietly. Sean got up and helped me as before, but this time he removed the pillows propping me up so that I was lying essentially flat. As he did so, the diaphragm of that sexy Littmann stethoscope grazed my left nipple and I nearly combusted. What he did next surprised me, and heightened the suspense and my arousal even more.