When she squeezed my 'noogies'
I indeed had a fit.
I wanted her to immediately produce,
Her 'learning' certificate.
'Look at the wall to your right and cough.
No need to look at me,
As if you are pissed off.'
She insisted she was a doctor.
Dressed in black and not a white smock.
She told me to dropp my pants to examine...
My prostrate and other things I've got.
'Bend over. Spread those cheeks for me.'
~Do you understand how uncomfortable I am? ~
'I'm only here to do your prostrate examine.
Your primary doctor made this request.
And I'm a 'specialized physician'!
Get over it!
You can 'now' pull up your pants.'
I was hot!
Not for her.
And I was more shocked that she was beautiful.
That part of my prostrate appointment...
I came to hate.
But it was too late.
She was highly skilled AND quite the professional.
With a big diamond 'rock' on her left hand.
Out of my league.
And clearly not 'dating' material.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.