1. Ogling the Optometrist


    Date: 9/12/2015, Categories: Office Sex, Author: benawriter, Rating: 11, Source: LushStories

    Returning from a vacation trip one evening in the pouring rain, I seemed to have difficulty following the white lines as I drove. Although I had not experienced any particular problem reading, etc. I decided to check with a local optometrist just for safe measure. After filling out the usual preliminary forms, one of the receptionists took me to one of the examining rooms. There, she dimmed the lights, dilated my eyes and left me waiting for the optometrist. A few minutes later, Dr. Jennifer Lewis popped in, offered me her hand to shake and took a seat on the rolling stool by the desk. “How can I help you today, Mr. Jameson?” she asked cheerfully. I explained my concern, albeit slight, and she nodded. “As we reach middle age, our eyes tend to challenge us, drifting from clear focus to fuzzy images once in a while, but that can be for many reasons,” she said. “A change of diet, lack of sleep once in a while, perhaps a bit of work from stress, or anything personal can give your eyes reason to ask for a little attention. Let’s just take a quick look and I can tell you more.” She handed me a small white card and instructed me to hold it over one eye. Then she leaned in very close to me, turned on one of those nasty little penlights and shone it into my eye. “Look left,” she said, and I followed her instructions. “Now right. Look down.” That last command changed the path of the exam immediately. As she leaned forward, the good doctor revealed a goodly portion of her cleavage, one ...
    of the things that makes me weak with desire. Indeed I looked down, and further down and tried to suppress a smile that my brain was trying to send to my face. “Look up,” she continued. Try as I might, I flicked my eyes up but they somehow drifted low enough to continue my gaze down her blouse. “Look up again, please, look as high as you can,” she urged. I managed to comply and she sat straight up. “Cover the other eye and let’s see how it looks,” she said politely. She followed the same steps, and when I looked down, the other eye got its share of cleavage. Again, she had to remind me to look up. At that point I was hoping she would not look down because something was developing and I seemed to have no control to prevent it. Then she held a small ruler across the bridge of my nose and went through the same routine but without the flashlight. She invited me to look down, left, right, up and down again. A small smirk crossed her lips and she rolled closer to me as she dropped the ruler on the desk. “I don’t think there’s any problem with your eyes, Mr. Jameson,” she said softly, “but you do seem to have a fetish, don’t you?” “Excuse me?” I asked, trying to sound baffled, but she had me cold. She unbuttoned two more of the top buttons on her blouse, pulled it open with her hands and let me see some beautiful soft mounds, practically spilling out of her lacy white bra. I was shocked and my mouth dropped open; I was unable to speak. She picked up the phone on the desk, pushed a ...
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