Kath reclines again and briefly doesn’t seem to know what to do with her arms. She can’t cover her breasts, which would be her natural instinct. She settles for draping her right arm across her face, covering her eyes behind her elbow, and leaving her left arm straight down her flank. There’s a small smile on her face now, she can see the humor, too. Meanwhile, Jess has rolled up the gown and disposed of it under the table, unaware of the distress she just sparked.
“With no linea nigra and a firm abdomen, you wouldn’t expect the patient to still be lactating, but it would be a strong indicator if she were. Her nipples certainly appear to be fully developed, though.” Jess is rolling Kath’s left nipple between her fingers, while the rest of the group, myself included, watch in silence, entranced by the caress. And it does seem as much a caress as an examination.
Apart from the now-severely erect nipples, Katherine’s breasts are flat across her thorax. In this supine position, the lower costal cartilage – the lower part of her rib cage immediately above the stomach – is more elevated than her flat bosom. The pleasing form of her left breast has migrated laterally while the right, stretched by the raised arm, is nearly imperceptible – the breast tissue only discernible to the touch, or by noting the absence of visible ribs proximal to the nipple.
Jess cups the ‘pleasing form’ with her hand. “These are very soft. I would guess that’s post-breastfeeding ptosis, I don’t think the sagging would be from age in a, what, 40 year old?” she asks, with a quick double-squeeze.
“I’m non-responsive,” responds Katherine. Good, she still has her sense of humor.
“And she doesn’t have an inverted nipple, like Sarah, they don’t survive breastfeeding,” comments Ryan.
“Excuse me?” responds Sarah, putting her hands on her hips with feigned indignation. “Have you been peeking? Who told you this?”
Ryan’s guilty glance at TB answers her question.
“And have you been talking about my breasts, too?” she asks Sean.
Sean embellishes his accent into a ‘posh’ Brit. “I had not even noticed you had breasts, ma’am. But now you mention them, would you mind putting ’em on show? Come on now, don’t be a bore.”
The group is laughing, but Jess is intrigued, “Only one side? Seriously? Can you show me, Sarah?” I notice she still has her hand resting on Kath’s chest, her thumb slightly deflecting the left nipple.”
Sarah pauses briefly to watch Jess, who does appear to be genuinely interested. Years ago at college, I studied insect pheromones in biology – powerful stuff. I have no doubt some kind of neurosteroid was at work here, either the unproven human sex pheremone, or a natural sympathetic response to Kath’s scent. The group is bunched around the table as if we hadn’t just gone through two years of social distancing, Nick’s erection is noticeable (Ryan has loose fitting pants; TB and Sean are currently obscured from my glance). Kim’s nipples also appear to be erect, the other women (Sarah, Jess, and Brooke) seem to be wearing bras or thicker clothing. However, they all have the flushed look and dilated pupils I noted on Katherine earlier. The mere fact Sarah is reaching for the buttons on her blouse shows that normal behavior has been warped by this intimacy within the room.
Surprisingly, I am not upset by the sexual tension that’s apparently stalking my near-naked wife. It’s not that my usual petty jealousy has been cured, more that a unique set of circumstances have conspired to make this seem almost natural. Previously, Kath wouldn’t go topless on a sparsely populated beach of strangers. Now, she was showing her body to a close group of my friends, and could even smile about it. And not only showing her body, Jess was still stroking her boob with her fingertips absentmindedly. I should probably resume control of the lesson, but I want to see how this ‘science experiment’ plays out. Plus, I am as horny as the students are right now.
Sarah reaches behind her back to unclasp her white bra. I get a glimpse of the decorative cups, but from my position at the foot of the table, I mostly see the sheer white panels that make up the wide strap at the back.
“Ta-da!” Sarah announces, as she spreads her arms and flicks her blonde hair behind her shoulders. Apart from Nick and TB, who she dismisses with, “You two have already seen these,” she briefly turns to each of us, including me, to show them off, purposely adding a little bounce with each movement. Her breasts are slightly larger than average, probably a C-cup, hosting large, feint areolas with an indistinct boundary. And she does indeed have an inverted nipple on her right-hand side; a vertical crease turning it into an innie rather than an outie. There’s probably an anatomical word for it, but I’m not thinking particularly clearly right now.
“Up to ten percent of women have inverted nipples,” Sarah announces. “Mine is coming out, as I’m always tweaking it. If you ever see me with my arms crossed, I’m probably squeezing my nipple.” She gives a quick demonstration of this revelation – even I have seen her with her arms crossed before.
“It’s not a problem, though,” Sarah continues. “Sometimes, they grow out during pregnancy, even if they don’t, the baby can still latch on. But very few remain inverted after a course of breastfeeding.”
“Come, come,” says Jess, gesturing with her hand that is finally off Katherine’s breast. “Let me feel.”
Sarah steps up to the left of Katherine’s table, opposite Jess, who reaches across to take the inverted nipple between her fingers. She studies it with a pinch and roll, before moving her hand to the left nipple. Sarah seems amused by the situation, she does like being the center of attention. Her move has triggered a ripple of movement among the rest of the group; everyone wants to watch and the table is now encircled closely. I hold my ground at the foot of the table, and notice Katherine getting a close-up view, peeking up from under her arm.
“They are definitely different. Katherine’s nipple has more structure behind them than Sarah’s, or my own,” says Jess. “Feel them,” she encourages Sarah, who is now curious and obliges by taking hold of Katherine’s closest nipple for an inspection.
“Are you a mother, Brooke?” asks Jess, apparently on the verge of a great medical discovery, but needing more clinical trials.
“No, Jess, I’ve never been pregnant,” she replies, “but your logic is sound, the breasts don’t fully develop until pregnancy. I’m also guessing Katherine is a mother, but let’s get a nurse’s opinion.” Brooke reaches out and takes a hold of my wife’s other nipple. A line is almost forming now, half-a-dozen hands waiting to compare the feel of my wife’s nipple against Sarah’s nipple, or their own.”
Throughout this exploration of touch, I’m watching Katherine on the table. Her right arm covers her eyes again. She is breathing faster, exhaling through her mouth, and subtly squirming, pressing her knees together rhythmically. Only I notice. Or is Brooke observant to this also?
There is a lot of tactile exploration going on – Kath’s nipples, breast tissue, and abdomen are being gently prodded, manipulated, and palpitated as the students make their own assessment of my misguided challenge; is this ‘unresponsive patient’ a mother?
It’s becoming too much for Katherine. “Uhh… I think I need to take a break,” she announces. Her hands are now pressed on her upper sternum, fingers white with the pressure. Her eyes remain closed.
“Are you uncomfortable?” asks Brooke, with concern.
“No, ahh, quite the opposite,” she responds falteringly. “I, um, I need… relief.”
“Oh,” Brooke answers, then pauses, while she and the group digest this new revelation. “There’s not really anywhere private. The rest of this floor is locked.”
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