Adultery The Aarogya Wellness and Intimacy Clinic

[prasannas2001]

 

 
"Seema," Dr. Anjali said, "I'm going to ask you to change into this."
 
"There's a changing screen behind you, and a hook for your clothes."
 
"Take your time."
 
She held out a gown.
 
It was light blue, the color of a shallow sea, and when Seema took it, the fabric was almost absurdly soft, brushed cotton, the kind that cost more than her wedding blouse.
 
She stepped behind the screen and undressed, folding her kurta and jeans and then, after a pause, her bra and panties.
 
She pulled the gown over her head and felt it settle against her skin.
 
It was short.
 
Shorter than she had anticipated.
 
The hem floated a good six inches above her knees, and the back, the back was nothing.
 
It was cut away entirely, from the shoulder blades all the way down to the small of her back, held together only by a single thin strap that she had to tie in a bow behind her neck.
 
She turned slightly and caught her own reflection in the mirror mounted on the screen and saw the long line of her spine, the smooth brown of her back, the small hollow at its base.
 
She had good legs.
 
She knew that much.
 
Her thighs were full and firm from years of Bharatanatyam as a girl, and they had always been her one vanity.
 
"All set?" Dr. Anjali called.
 
"Yes, doctor."
 
"Come."
 
The examination chair stood at the center of the room under the chandelier.
 
Seema had seen pictures of such things but never sat in one.
 
It was upholstered in a pale cream leather, padded and reclined at an angle so that the patient lay back as though on a lounger, hips tilted toward the ceiling, head resting against a cushioned cradle.
 
From the sides of the seat, two curved leg rests extended outward and upward, padded at the knee, positioned so that a woman's legs would have to fall open to use them.
 
And at the very foot of the chair, mounted on a slim chrome arm, sat a small black camera pointed directly between the leg rests.