Medical check-up

Kati books the same clinic every six months. She wants her sixty-odd years to stay supple, and there is the extra draw of Betty, the brunette nurse barely out of her teens. Today the girl calls her name and leads her straight into the exam room. The door clicks shut. Betty’s fingers are cool at first, gliding over Kati’s bare breasts, checking tissue with practiced strokes. Then her lips replace them, warm and wet, drawing each nipple deep until it stands stiff and glistening. Kati exhales, hand sliding up the inside of Betty’s crisp uniform. The fabric parts easily. Underneath, a neat dark bush greets her fingertips. Kati parts the soft curls, finds the girl already slick, and traces every fold with slow, sure pressure. Betty’s hips roll once, twice, the soft gasp she gives telling Kati the exam is mutual and the results are excellent.