Indecent Exposure Read Free Page B

up from her own chair with a movement that disclosed more of her legs than Luitenant Verkramp had ever seen before. “I’ve had lots of practice,” she smiled at him. Verkramp could well believe it. “In the hospital.” Feeling like a weasel fascinated by a giant rabbit, Verkramp sat hypnotized in his chair as she approached.
    “Stand up,” said the doctor.
    Verkramp stood up. Doctor von Blimenstein’s fingers unbuttoned his jacket as he stood facing her and a moment later she was pushing his jacket back over his shoulders so that he could hardly move his arms. “There we are,” she said softly, her face smiling gently close to his, “that feels a lot more comfortable, doesn’t it?”
    Comfortable was hardly the word Luitenant Verkramp would have chosen to describe the sensation he was now experiencing. As her cool fingers began to undo his tie, Verkramp found himself swept from the safe remote world of sexual fantasy into an immediacy of satisfaction he had no means of controlling. With a volley of diminishing whimpers and an ecstatic release Luitenant Verkramp slumped against the doctor and was only prevented from falling by her strong arms. In the twilight of her hair he heard her murmur, “There, there, my darling.” Luitenant Verkramp passed out.
    Twenty minutes later he was sitting rigid with remorse and embarrassment wondering what to do if she asked if he wanted another cup of tea. To say “No” would be to invite her to take the cup away for good while to say “Yes” would still deprive him of the only means he had of hiding his lack of self-control. Dr von Blimenstein was telling him that a sense of guilt was always the cause of sexual problems. In Verkramp’s opinion the argument didn’t hold water but he was too preoccupied with the question of more tea or not to enter into the conversation with anything approaching fervour. Finally he decided that the best thing to do was to say “Yes, please” and cross his legs at the same time and he had just come to this conclusion when Dr von Blimenstein noticed his empty cup. “Would you care for some more tea?” she asked and reached out for his cup. Luitenant Verkramp’s careful plan was wrecked before he realized it. He had expected her to come over and fetch his cup, not wait for it to be brought to her. Responding to the contradictory impulses towards modesty and good manners at the same time, he crossed his legs and stood up, in the process spilling the little bit of tea he had kept in his cup in case he should decide to say “No” into his lap where it mingled with the previous evidence of his lack of savoir-faire. Luitenant Verkramp untangled his legs and looked down at himself with shame and embarrassment. The doctor was more practical. Picking the cup off the floor and prising the saucer from Verkramp’s fingers, she hurried from the room and returned a moment later with a damp cloth. “We mustn’t let your uniform get stained, must we?” she cooed with a motherliness which reduced most of Verkramp to a delicious limpness and quite prevented him from realizing the admission of complicity in his mishap implied by the “we” and before he knew what was happening the beautiful doctor was rubbing his fly with the damp cloth.
    Luitenant Verkramp’s reaction was instantaneous. Once was wicked enough but twice was more than he could bear. With a contraction that bent him almost double, he jerked himself away from the doctor’s tempting hands. “No,” he squeaked, “not again,” and leapt for cover behind the armchair.
    His reaction took Dr von Blimenstein quite by surprise.
    “Not what again?” she asked, still kneeling on the floor where his flight had left her.
    “Not – What? Nothing,” said Verkramp desperately struggling to distinguish some moral landmark in the confusion of his mind.
    “Not? What? Nothing?” said the doctor clambering to her feet. “What on earth do you mean?”
    Verkramp turned melodramatically away