EYE CHART FLIRTATION

My Eye Doctor Thinks I’m Sexy

Getting freaky with the Target Optometrist

I could tell by the way he called my name that he wanted me.

“Next?”

He gave me that come hither look as his eyes peered over the top of his horn-rimmed glasses.

“Thank you for coming to see me today,” he said with a smile.

I followed him back to the private exam room. The lights were dimmed. I’d just arrived and already he was setting the mood for romance. I could see this man didn’t take things slowly. He got right to it like he was on a schedule or something.

“Take a seat”, he commanded.

I knew then what he wanted. My eyes.

I glanced over at his diploma hanging on the wall. It was large and prominently displayed, beckoning me to take notice. It was so obvious he wanted to impress me with his big credentials.

He shimmied up close to me and pulled out his bright light, shining it deep into my pupils for what seemed much longer than necessary.

Mesmerized by my big brown eyes I suppose.

He flicked the light off and told me my retinas looked very healthy. I blushed at his compliment.

Then he grasped his large phoropter and set it right in front of my face. He asked me to peek through the holes. He flipped the lenses around and asked the question I’d been waiting to hear.

“Which is better? One…or two?”

My pulse quickened. My heart went aflutter. My palms began to sweat. I wanted to get this right. But the two were so close. Which one should I choose? Which was better?

Hastily, I choose number one.

“Take your time,” he said patiently. He wanted me to be at ease. I tried to relax but he was so close I could feel the electricity between us.

We went back and forth for a bit; with him asking which one was better and me answering — merely optical foreplay for what was to come. Finally, he seemed satisfied that he knew what I needed. He then made a few quick clicks and adjustments and the eye chart on the wall in front of me snapped into focus.

“Read the lowest line you can see,” he directed.

I blinked a few times and decided to cut to the chase. I knew he was hot for me and I wanted him to know I felt the same. So instead of reading the line, I coyly propositioned him.

U & M E 6 9 ?

“Hmmm,” he said. “They’re all letters — not numbers or punctuation marks.” He flipped the lenses around a bit then said, “Let’s try that line again.”

Was he playing hard to get? Was my message too coded? Did he not understand I was good to go?

Then a thought occurred to me. There must be security cameras in the room. That must be it. There must be cameras in place to keep the freaky stuff from happening in the exam room.

I smiled slyly and read the line as it was.

“Okay, I think we got it now,” he said assuredly. As he pushed the phoropter away, he gave me a sideways glance. I melted. He then swiveled around on his stool flashing me his backside.

Nice.

He fished around his desk for his prescription pad and filled it out. I’m sure somewhere on there he must have jotted down his phone number.

He handed it to me as we rose out of our seats in perfect unison. We must be cosmically connected. Soulmates or something.

We walked side by side to the door. As he reached out to grasp the door handle, I winked and thanked him for the great service. He smiled awkwardly. He was so turned on he could only nod. He held the door open for me and as I exited the room, I could feel his eyes checking out my ass.

I know I’ll be hearing from him again. I’ll get that email in two years saying I’m due for another exam and that he wants to see me again.

Oh yeah.

What prompted this piece of weirdness? Christopher Robin’s date with his hygienist.

My Dental Hygienist Totally Wants Me

That time my teeth got a boner

medium.com

And I was spurred on by Carlos Garbiras’s nudge to just fucking write it already.

Let’s Burn This Motherfucker Down

Because you needed $50K but you suck!