Myra-Breckinridge-Gore-Vidal

feel the pounding of the blood in his arteries. The sense ofpower was overwhelming. I felt as if, in some way, it was Iwho controlled the coursing of the blood in his veins andthat it was at my command that the heart beat at all. I feltthat I could do anything. "You seem nervous, Rusty." Ichallenged him. He swallowed hard. "No... no, Miss Myra.No, I'm not really. It's just that it's kind of hot in here..." "Andyou're not enjoying your examination." "Well, it's kind ofstrange, you know......" His voice trailed off nervously."What's kind of strange?" "Well, you know... I mean havinga girl... you know, a lady, like you, do all this to a guy.""Haven't you ever been examined by a nurse?" "Never!"This reversion to the old masculine Rusty was promptlyquelled by the sudden tug I gave to his Jockey shorts; thefull bush was now visible, though nothing else for the shortswere stopped at the crucial juncture by the weight of hisbody. With great thoroughness, I felt the different sectionsof his belly, taking pleasure in the firmness of muscles, hardrubber beneath silk. I lingered for quite some time over thepubic area, taking the powerful pulse of each of the twoarteries that meet at the groin. I could not, however, makeout even the base of his penis. I then took an instrumentwhich resembled sugar tongs, used to test the thickness ofthe skin's subcutaneous layer. With frightened eyes, hewatched as I picked away at the skin of his belly, pulling theskin as high as I could and then releasing it with a snap."Nicely resilient," I said, pinching hard as I could a fold ofhis belly and causing him to cry out plaintively, "Hey, thathurts!" The return to childhood was well underway. "Stop