Whatever they may say to the contrary, women always like undressing at the doctor's. Of course, the proprieties are preserved. But there somehow seems always to be some reason for clothing to be removed and intimate examinations to take place however healthy the lady is. Mine is a country practice. I see women patients of every social class and I meet some of them socially. They include Mrs Harrison, the wife of our minister, the Rev. John Harrison. Once a year for some years, I have given Mrs Harrison, a vigorous lady of 73 now, a very thorough and complete medical examination at their house, at her husband's request but in his absence, and afterwards sat down to dinner with them. The examination takes place in the early evening in Mr Harrison's study and during it, we can hear him and their housekeeper Lydia going about their business. At the surgery, women patients undress behind a screen. There is no deliberately means of privacy in the study. Mrs Harrison undresses with calm deliberation in front of me while I get out my instruments and put on a pair of thin rubber gloves. I suspect the gloves are not strictly necessary in her case but, as I say, the proprieties must be observed. Mrs Harrison makes no concession to the convenience of being examined at home. She comes to me fully armoured in the usual accoutrements of an elderly lady. I watch as she removes her dress to reveal an old fashioned whaleboned bra such as a Wagnerian heroine might have worn, a bulky, old fashioned girdle, stockings and suspenders and sensible, cotton knickers best described as capacious since they must contain an ample bottom. Everything except the stockings is white. The bra comes off first so as to liberate her unexpectedly shapely breasts for my appreciation. Although we are pretending to be completely businesslike, she can't resist, like so many women, giving a little welcoming squeeze to their bareness. The stockings, unfastened with intent concentration, are next followed by the girdle and finally the pants, the big pants. These are dropped and stepped out of with a pretence of indifference that always makes me want to laugh although I don't. The staid and respectable Mrs Harrison has now achieved her (and her reverend husband's, I am aware) object of becoming totally nude in front of me. I've noticed that nudity transforms our ideas about older women in terms of sexual appeal. Nude, Mrs Harrison has a big comfortable and perfectly desirable body with pretty breasts and a full bush of greyish hair to preserve the modesty of her genitalia. I can well understand that she likes to show it off. We begin with her breasts, weighing and squeezing them questioningly for any suspicious lumps. We discuss solemnly whether she should go for a mammogram. (Answer yes : she wouldn't want to miss that.) I ask her to walk round the study to give her an opportunity to show herself off to me from every angle. Now I ask her to stand with her back to me with her legs apart and to bend over to touch her toes. She tenses a little at this but is as obedient as a child. Her buttocks part and her little anus, which she has taken care to ensure is clean, is revealed to me. I touch it with the tip of my right forefinger, pushing slightly into the wrinkled lips of the orifice and do not miss the slight tremor on her part that this most intimate touch provokes. The tightness of her sphincter tells me that Mr Harrison does not use that hole. We end with an examination of her vagina for which she stretches on her back on her husband's table which has been cleared in advance for the purpose. When I part her labia with my hands, I can see that she is now very wet and oystery-smelling, so wet that there is really no need to lubricate the speculum I am going to insert in her vagina. But I do it anyway since our little pretence requires it. The speculum goes in and I lock it so that her vagina gapes. I see, fully exposed, the glistening red flesh of the walls and the mouth of her cervix. Her wholly inner being is revealed to me and I see her body tremble with the intensity of her pleasure. I prolong it for as long as I dare and I see that it is with regret that she feels the speculum slide out of her vagina. She dresses again, a little self-consciously this time and we go out to meet her waiting husband. She takes his hand and they both stand smiling at me as I pronounce an absolutely clean bill of health. Lydia comes in to say that dinner is ready and I see from her face that she shares her mistress's secret and is fully complicit. I expect to see her at my surgery before the week is out.