Note:  Not too important but three different choices have been made for that always dubious title Hunk Of The Month.  The current choices all seem to be on the very young side

You can view the current choices by clicking the link below

Hunk Of The Month

A visit to the gynecologist is not most women's idea of a great time. For some of my friends, those trips are a source of anxiety and fear. Donning a paper dress and being poked and prodded with various instruments can be a real bummer - unless the man doing the poking and prodding is absolutely gorgeous. I'm lucky enough to have such a doctor. I've always been a sucker for Italian men, and he's the epitome of the type: thick black hair, deep brown eyes, athletic body. My first gynecologist, a sweet old woman who'd taken care of me since I hit puberty, retired two years ago. She recommended that I transfer my care to Dr. Santino, a man who had worked under her. From my first visit, I found myself unable to stop thinking about what it would be like for him to handle parts of me with the delicacy with which he held his stethoscope against my chest. He asked me questions while reviewing my charts, and listened to me patiently, his eyes locking with mine for so long it made me shudder. I wanted to believe that he felt it, too - that he was as drawn to me as I was to him - but to him I was probably just another patient. Or so I thought...

"That's a lovely dress," was the first thing he said to me that day. I shrugged off the compliment with some deprecating remark ("This old thing?"), even though I'd spent all weekend searching the malls for the perfect outfit for seduction. The dress I settled on was a clingy affair, high cut here and low cut there. Though I knew he'd notice (he was always quick and generous with the compliments), I didn't expect his eyes to slide down me the way they did. As I turned to take a seat on the examination table, I could see his reflection in the mirror over the sink as he stared lustily at my ass and legs. I flushed, and I could feel myself moistening. Just that one look from him would have been enough to satisfy me. Then he handed me the paper gown and said, "Cathy [his nurse] had to leave early on personal business. If you like, we can postpone the examination..."

"Oh, no. That's okay - I took time off work to be here, and I'd rather get it all over with." I laughed, then smiled teasingly. He smiled shyly; now it was his turn to blush...

He returned to the room armed with a tray of swabs and vials and looking unbearably sexy in his white coat. My pulse quickened when his hands slid beneath the paper gown and found first on breast, then the other. It was the best breast exam a doctor has ever given me; he cupped them, then squeezed gently yet firmly, pulling lightly at my hard nipples as I suppressed a moan. 

Asking me to lay down, he lifted the gown over my stomach and rubbed my torso in search of abnormalities. ("Nothing wrong here", he said huskily.) Then he sat at the end of the table and took first my left then my right foot in his hands, caressing each gently, then softly placing it into a stirrup. I was so aroused I thought I would faint. I felt him place a finger in me. "Does this hurt?" he inquired, a teasing quality to his voice. With the gown over my knees, I couldn't see his face at all and had no idea of what he had planned.

"Oh, not at all," I answered with just enough flirtation in my voice to keep him guessing.

"How about this?" he asked, pulling his finger out halfway and slipping another in alongside it. I suppressed a moan.

"That's fine," I answered, and I could hear him chuckle - the arousal in my voice must have been pretty obvious. He continued to finger me, and then I felt something exquisite on my clit. It took me a second to realize it was his tongue! Then I could hold it in no longer; I moaned and arched my back as he finger-fucked me and licked me at the same time. Soon I was near coming, and barely noticed when he stood up (without ceasing the motion of his fingers), lifted my gown over my neck, and fondled my breasts and stomach with his other hand.

"Oh, yes," he sighed, squeezing my tit lustfully. He bent down and sucked one breast, then the other, fondling them at the same time. He looked into my eyes, almost asking permission. I knew what he wanted, and I spread my knees even wider to let him know he could have it. With his free hand, he unfastened his belt and unzipped his pants, pulling out a very nicely sized and extremely hard erection. He pulled his fingers out of my pussy and rubbed the tip of his penis over my slick, wet lips. Every molecule in my body wanted him inside me; I moaned and stared into his eyes, willing him to do it. He obliged, sliding his penis into me so quickly and with such force that we both gasped. My feet curled in the stirrups. His hands found my breasts and squeezed them while he pounded me with everything he had. Suddenly, I came with such force I thought I was going to fly off the table.

I stopped him. He looked at me questioningly, a little fearfully, as if afraid I'd suddenly changed my mind. I slid down the table until I was eye-level with his cock. I grabbed his hardness and stroked it, then pulled it between my full breasts. He groaned, reaching down to help me squeeze my tits around his cock as he fucked them. Then I slid further down, and took him in my mouth. "Oh God," he moaned. Then he looked down at me and asked sexily, "Can I come on your breasts?"

I smiled in response, and slid his cock in and out of my mouth, tonguing him while I fondled his balls. Suddenly he pulled out of my mouth. I moved up a little, then pulled his cock between my breasts as he came like a rocket. His come shot all over my breasts as I rubbed him against them. The sight of my come-sticky breasts must have been amazing for him, because looking down at them made him groan and he spurted a fresh squirt between my tits.

We cleaned up without comment. I think he was a little worried after the fact; after all, sex on the examination table isn't exactly included in the Hippocratic Oath. When we were dressed, he asked me, "So, what now?"

"Now?" I repeated. I stood up, pulled one of my business cards out of my wallet, and slipped it into his hands. "Now you call me. When your out of the office. And we get together."

He smiled. "Sounds like a plan." He touched my cheek and gently kissed my mouth. Sure enough, he called me later that night. We had a wonderful dinner the following night, and an even better dessert... He and I are incredible together. However, no matter how hard we try (and try and try...), nothing can match the passion of that first "examination".