Page 7 of Second Chance to Score

Robbie

I’d dreamed of getting back together with Violet many times over the years. Her telling me to take off my pants in that husky voice of hers made my mind veer in a very different direction, one that had nothing to do with physical therapy and everything to do with getting physical.

“What?” My voice sounded a little choked.

“It’s your hip that’s fucked up right? I need to get a look at it.”

Her voice was cool and clinical, but her eyes were dancing. I shot her a cocky smile and rose to my feet, unfastening my jeans and dropping them to my ankles. Her eyes went right to my crotch, making the slight bulge in my boxers become a much bigger one in an instant.

I cleared my throat, and she looked back upward, her face flushing slightly. I loved knowing that I had an effect on her, that I wasn’t the only one impacted by seeing each other after all these years.

Violet pulled over a cart, bringing the computer attached to it to life and typing a few things before turning back to me, her expression one hundred percent professional.

“Tell me about the pain,” she said, shooting me a brief glance before returning her attention to the computer.

“It comes and goes, but lately it’s coming more than it’s going. It’s okay if I’m running steadily but running in bursts of movement aggravates it. And if I do too much kicking in a day, it seems to get inflamed. There will be a throbbing pain and also it becomes hot to the touch. And I’ll start to limp.”

“Does ice relieve it?”

“Somewhat, but not totally.”

“NSAIDs?”

“Takes the edge off, when I take them. You know I hate pills.”

She nodded as she typed.

“I assume they’re giving you massage and some manipulation of the joint?”

“Yeah, like everything, it helps a bit but doesn’t totally fix it.”

“Any changes to your diet? Any new supplements?”

“No.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “I’m going to do some testing to see your range of motion, ease of movement, things like that.”

“Got it.”

“Which hip is it? Your kicking leg side I assume?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, lay on your left side please.”

I complied, resting my head on my bent arm while Violet started examining my ankle, moving up to my calf, knee, and thigh before getting to my hip. Her fingers felt warm and soft against my skin. Periodically she would stop to make notes on the computer, her face a mask of concentration.

After the physical examination she began testing my range of motion, shifting my leg in different directions and palpating various muscles.

“I’m going to lift your leg up to my shoulder now,” she told me. “Just relax and let me do the work.”

“Okay.”

She changed positions, lifting my leg up to her slim shoulder and watching the movement of my leg in my hip joint as she moved it back and forth. Despite her complete professionalism, I was still half hard from the touch of Violet’s hands on my body. With her up between my legs now, I was moving into a full-on erection and no amount of reciting statistics or thinking of unpleasant things was helping.

I glanced down and to my horror, realized that somehow my dick had worked its way out of the fly of my boxers.

I silently prayed that she wouldn’t notice. The last thing I wanted to do was look like an asshole. It was bad enough I’d gotten aroused from a simple exam, like I was some horny teenager who wasn’t in control of their body. Then again, this wasn’t just some random doctor. This was my first love. And hopefully my last.