A Doctor's Office Dalliance

"I know it's hard to give up the sweets, Mr. Pyle. I've had your wife's cherry crumble, and it is to die for... but not literally. So, let's try and keep it to just one small treat a day, okay? And you already know what I'm going to say about vegetables and whole grains, don't you?"

"Yes, doctor," he nodded with the lack of enthusiasm that comes from having heard it all before.

"And if I was a middle-aged White man, you might actually listen to me," I thought silently to myself. Out loud I added "Remember to keep that leg up as much as you can and change the dressing every twelve hours. I'll see you again in a couple of weeks."

"Thank you doctor, I will," he replied, but he avoided looking me in the eye when he said it.

"It's nice to see you again, Mrs. Pyle. Keep an eye on this troublemaker for me." I joked to his wife as I held open the door between the exam room and the empty waiting room.

"Oh, don't you worry, Doctor Sarkar," she said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "I will."

She won't though.

For all their good intentions, the Pyles just can't bring themselves to change the bad habits of a lifetime. Not on my say-so anyway. Her diabetes is almost as advanced as his, but the only thing that brought them into the clinic today was the weeping ulcer that had developed on his foot. And that's only because he let it get so bad that he couldn't hide it from her any more.

He's going to lose that foot by the end of the year. I hope I'm not the one who has to do it, but I probably will be. I'm the only doctor in a good two-hundred mile radius of this town, and I just know he's going to wait until the very last minute.

"Why did I ever take this job?" I asked myself again, like I do every time I fail to get through to a patient.

Because by the time I finished my residency, my student loans were overwhelming. Because I was going to be in debt for decades. Because I jumped at the opportunity when the state's recruiter offered to pay off my loans in full. All it took was a five-year commitment to work in an underserved, rural county tucked away in the heart of nowhere.

I knew it would be a big adjustment from my life back east. My now-ex fiancé tried to talk me out of it. He tried very hard, and when I refused to listen, he refused to follow me because there's no work for him out here.

That was a little over ten months ago. It's hard to blame him now. In hindsight, we both refused to give up our own dreams for the other person. Unfortunately, we both said some things that neither of us can take back. So that's over.

"Are we clear for lunch, Sandy?" I asked the nurse receptionist behind the desk when the front door had closed behind the Pyles.

"We're clear, Pasha. Next appointment's not until one," she confirmed.

Other than a few sheriff's deputies with paramedic training, Sandy and I are the only health care in the county, so our appointment calendar is typically full. Sandy always blacks out time in the middle of the day though. It gives us a chance to clear any early back-ups, or to have a break if the morning runs smoothly.

I went back to my desk and typed up a few quick, depressing notes on Mr. Pyle's left foot.

After that, I slipped off my cute kitten-heel pumps under the desk, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to compartmentalize my worry and frustration. There would be more patients to see, and I couldn't let the emotional toll show. I only wished I had some outlet for it, but there were precious few opportunities around here.

Originally I harbored Hallmark-movie dreams of the perfect small town with quaint, seasonal festivals and quirky little shops and cafés. I imagined the perfect meet-cute with a ruggedly handsome new guy who would sweep me off my feet. In those movies, the small towns are always vibrant and full of active, diverse, and interesting young people with rich social lives.

Then I got here and found the "town" is only a few dozen loosely clustered buildings along a two lane stretch of highway. The asphalt is cracked and patched, none of the street lights work, and half the buildings are either boarded up or falling down. The natural resources that brought people here for a century were used up decades ago. All that's left is a county full of played-out mines, clear-cut timber, and fallow farmland.

I have to drive forty minutes to the nearest grocery and feed store. It has an automotive aisle that is usually better stocked than its fresh produce section. It's really no wonder that the Pyles can't improve their diet.

With the paperwork and my reverie out of the way, I slipped my shoes back on and took my phone to the big, back room of our repurposed storefront clinic that serves as a store room, break room, and meeting room all in one.

"What have I got today?" I wondered aloud as I opened the refrigerator door. Inside I found my homemade dal palak with basmati rice, just as I knew I would. Thank god for Amazon. Sandy had already started in on the plate of cold fried chicken and potato salad she had brought from home, along with a package of Oreos and a bottle of Diet Pepsi.

"What was that?" she asked, looking back from our lunch-slash-conference table.

"Oh, nothing. Just talking to myself."

"What have you got today?" she asked, as she did every day, when I took my steaming lunch from the microwave.

"It's um, lentil and spinach soup with rice. Would you like to try some?"

"Oh, no. I'm sure it's much too spicy for me," she declined. "Smells good, though."

I always offer, but she's never adventurous enough to take me up on it.

Sandy has become my unlikely best friend out here. She's been married for over thirty years and has four kids who have all grown up and moved away. We don't have much in common besides work, but that's more than I have with anyone else. She invited me to her church the day I arrived. I was raised Hindu, so I declined. But she persisted.

After a few weeks, I finally realized that church is really the only form of social interaction around here, other than high school sports, and so I took her up on it. The high school is over an hour away. At least going to church gets me out of the house on Sundays and Wednesdays.

"Be careful not to drip any on your pretty blouse," Sandy added when I draped my lab coat over the back of my chair and tucked my skirt under my legs as I sat down.

Back when I was a little girl growing up in central New Jersey, my mother used to brush my hair and dress me in saris and tell me that we're only as pretty as we feel. Back then, I didn't want to feel pretty, I wanted to feel smart. I wanted to win the spelling bee and get straight A's and be valedictorian in a high school with a graduating class larger than the population of this whole town.

I don't feel so smart any more. I feel naive. I feel like I got suckered by the recruiter. I feel trapped, a stranger in a strange land, with no one I can really relate to or lean on. Now, feeling pretty is about all I have left, for all the good it does me.

My small-town meet-cute fantasy was just that, a fantasy. After ten months without so much as a jostle, I've given up hope of randomly bumping into my soul mate. There just isn't anyone to bump into. The kids who grow up here leave the first chance they get and they don't come back. The only people left are too set in their ways to see that their way of life is dying out. They complain that the world is going to Hell, but they refuse to try and change anything for the better.

And they are all just so very White.

I never thought that would bother me. Andy, my ex-fiancé, is a White guy. But now it seems like every single face I ever see is Caucasian and frankly, it is a little disconcerting. I feel like the melanin content of this county tripled when I moved in and I'm not even all that dark.

Sandy and the women at church insist that Jesus will send me someone when He is ready. It's funny, you can actually hear the capital 'H' in their voice when they say it. I once jokingly asked if Jesus is single. It didn't go over well.

"Why do I bother looking?" I asked rhetorically as I thumbed open the dating app on my phone.

When I finally broke down and signed up on a dating app, I still held out hope. All I needed was a local guy to introduce me to the vibrant single's scene tucked away in some off-the-beaten-path neighboring town that I just hadn't found yet. My profile was fun and flirty. My pics were cute. I swiped on three guys out of four in a fifty-mile radius.

And nothing. Not a single match.

So I expanded the area and swiped a couple more guys. Still nothing. I expanded the search area again, figuring it would only be about an hour-drive if we met halfway. As days and weeks went by, I went back and swiped on every guy within a two-hour drive. Still no matches.

I don't want to think it's a racist thing, I really don't, but it's kind of hard to come to any other conclusion. I feel the same way about the untouched dishes I bring to Wednesday night potluck suppers at church. The macaroni and cheese and the Jello salad get gobbled up, while my chicken korma and my samosas are ignored. While no one has ever called me names or been overtly racist, I just can't help feeling that I don't belong and I'm not wanted.

Just as expected, when I opened the app, there were no notifications and no new guys.

"Seriously, why do I bother, Sandy?" I asked, less rhetorically this time, expanding the search radius once again all the way out to a real city.

"Still no hits?" she asked with a sympathetic smile.

"Well, here's a guy staying at the Airport Hilton looking for a good time tonight," I told her. "Do you think it's worth driving four hours there and four hours back for a booty-call?"

"You're better than that, Pasha," she told me.

"Am I?" I swiped him anyway, just in case he didn't get any better offers.

There was a growing rumble from the street outside, and when Sandy and I looked up at the clinic's big storefront window, a tractor trailer rolled slowly past.

"Well, somebody's lost," Sandy remarked. "Haven't seen one of those this far south in years."

The rumble of the engine faded and I went back to my phone.

The next guy up had his profile filled with pics of the Confederate flag, his pickup truck, and his guns. I caught myself wondering if maybe he harbored a secret fantasy to hate-fuck a Desi girl. And then I came to my senses and put my phone down in disgust.

"Why do I even bother?" I asked again, this time letting the desperation creep into my voice. "Why do I bother getting up an hour early to work out? Why do I bother doing my hair and makeup every day? I mean every single day, I shower and I shave my... everything! And I put on cute underwear and I take my stupid pill, just in case today is the magical day... But what's the point, Sandy? Why do I bother with it all?

"I'm never gonna fit in here. I'm never gonna meet anybody or have any kind of relationship. I can't even hook up just to get laid! The only thing--I mean, the only thing--keeping me going right now is my vibrator, and I swear to god, I live in fear of running out of batteries.

"I should just buy a pair of Crocs and a twelve pack of Walmart panties and delete the stupid app and be done with it. I'll just eat all the Jello and mac-and-cheese I can stuff in my face and give my vibrator a sexy name and make jokes about going home to him every night and then cry myself to sleep alone on the sofa in front of a Hallmark movie while I waste what's left of my twenties.

"What's the point of doing anything else? I mean, why should I bother?"

So much for compartmentalizing my emotions. Sandy sat through my rant with a patient smile.

"Don't be so desperate, Pasha," she consoled. "Jesus has a plan for you. Maybe this is the week that a nice, young man shows up at church."

"Yeah," I conceded with a deflating sigh. "Maybe this is the week... Do you suppose Jesus's plan includes cookies?"

Sandy slid the Oreos across the table to me with a smile full of sympathy and I took one with a wry laugh.

Just as I had taken a bite, the bells on the clinic's front door jangled. The man who came through into the waiting room in faded blue jeans and a canvas jacket was the first Black person I'd seen in weeks.

I guessed him to be in his late 30s or early 40s, older than anyone I had ever dated, but well within the parameters in my dating app.

"Can I help you?" Sandy called out to him as he took off a baseball cap and looked around the empty waiting room.

He turned and spied Sandy and I through the door to the back room. "Uh, Hi." he replied, "I've got a one o'clock appointment with Doctor Bipasha Sarkar." Glancing down at his watch, he added "I guess I'm a little early."

"Oh, you must be Mr. Barber," Sandy replied. "New patient," she said to me as an aside, then turned back to him and said "Just have a seat and I'll be right with you."

He was fairly trim, punctual, polite, and from this distance, not unattractive. I let myself start hoping that my romantic, small-town meet-cute was finally happening, and before I could stop myself I had visions of date nights and dinner parties and tangled sheets cascading through my imagination.

"Why don't I go ahead and get him checked in?" I asked, setting my half-eaten Oreo back on Sandy's plate and grabbing a paper towel to wipe my hands. She gave me a sly little smile with a conspiratorial glance heavenward.

I left my lab coat behind, crossed over into the waiting room, and offered my hand. "Hi, I'm Doctor Sarkar, but please, call me 'Pasha'."

Up close he was handsome in a simple and effortless sort of way, with skin the color of toasted pecans and a few days' growth of stubble along his jawline. Weathered creases nestled in the corners of his pale gray eyes when he smiled. "Oh... Uh, okay. I'm Jared Barber. It's nice to meet you, Pasha."

His grip was firm and warm. My heart fluttered and I held it a moment too long, relishing the feel of his hand in mine.

"I, uh, I guess I didn't expect you to be so, um..." he started to say, but then trailed off with a noncommittal sort of gesture. "Well... There's really no way to finish that sentence without looking like an idiot." He fidgeted with his cap, and I swear he was blushing behind his shy smile.

"Try," I prodded, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms.

He chuckled, looked at the floor and then back at the door. He was definitely blushing now.

"I, uh... I was gonna say 'pretty'," he shrugged with a glance to check my reaction. "Are you allowed to call your doctor 'pretty' these days?"

"I think we can let it slide" I smiled and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "Let me just pull up your appointment on the computer."

"I didn't mean anything by it," he assured me, following me to the receptionist desk. "But it's been my experience that you only see good-looking doctors on TV."

Oh my god, was he flirting with me? It had been so long since anyone had flirted with me. That flutter in my chest settled in. I stood behind the desk and leaned over the keyboard, looking down at the monitor and giving him a chance to glance down my blouse. I hoped it was open just enough.

"Good-looking TV doctors always have good-looking patients, right?" I asked, hoping it sounded flirty. "So, maybe we're on TV."

"Maybe we are," he agreed, stepping towards the desk. "But nobody gave me a script."

"I guess we'll just have to improvise then, won't we?"

"I guess we will."

I looked up with a smile and his eyes met mine. There was a connection. I know I felt a connection. I held his gaze a little bit longer than I meant too, and I felt myself blushing as I looked back down at the computer screen.

"So, are you new in town, Jared?" I asked, clicking through the menu options to open his file.

"No ma'am. Just passing through."

My shoulders slumped with those three words. "Oh?"

"Yeah, my insurance company says I have to get an annual physical to keep their best rate," he explained. "And you were the most convenient in-network appointment along my route."

The only eligible man I had met in months was 'just passing through.' I never had any kind of chance with him. All of my delusions of long-awaited happiness collapsed, but I did my best to hide my sudden disappointment as I jiggled Sandy's mouse and scowled at the computer screen.

"Well, lucky me," I said, trying to force some levity into my voice despite the wave of melancholy. "I guess that was your truck that drove past a few minutes ago?"

"Yes, ma'am."

I clicked a few boxes on the computer screen and handed him a clipboard with our new-patient in-take form to fill out. Then I told him I needed to review his insurance provider's outline of coverage and excused myself.

"Why do I get my hopes up?" I asked Sandy as I grabbed my lab coat and slumped off back to my office.

I sat at my desk and tried not to cry while I looked over his file. Jared Barber was 39, single, from Boulder, Colorado. If he had been married, or really old, or riddled with STDs it would have been easier, but he seemed to be perfectly dateable. How could the universe be so cruel?

Sandy came back to my office to tell me that Mr. Barber was ready for me in Exam Room Two. She had finished taking his vitals and had urine and blood samples ready to pack up and send off to the lab. She gave me a sympathetic pat on my shoulder as I picked up his file from my printer.

"Jesus's plan will always prevail against the devil's wicked tricks," she told me. "Have faith."

I gave her a smile to be polite, but it wasn't Jesus I was feeling in my heart just then. I gave myself one more moment and a deep breath before I forced a friendly smile on my face and stepped into the exam room to find Mr. Barber sitting on the table in his boxer shorts and T-shirt.

"How are you feeling today, Mr. Barber?" I asked while I looked over the vitals Sandy had scribbled on his chart. It was so easy to just fall into my regular routine.

"Oh, I'm doing alright," he said. "A little nervous, maybe. It's my first time with a lady doctor."

Since I'd taken this job, I had heard the same thing from many of my patients who thought a man could do better. I'd learned to ignore it and move on rather than engage. But then he added "I just hope I don't, you know, embarrass myself."

That caught me off guard. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you know, sitting here in my shorts... alone in a room with a beautiful, exotic woman." He looked over at the supply cabinet with a bashful smile, and then glanced back at me. He was flirting with me again.

I smiled back and tucked that stray lock of hair behind my ear again, but I didn't reply. There was no point in flirting. Still, the flutter in my chest returned as I turned towards the sink to wash my hands. I could almost feel his eyes exploring my legs and backside. I liked that feeling.

"Do you have any specific concerns?" I asked him, drying my hands and sticking to my normal spiel. "Any aches or pains? Shortness of breath? Anything unusual in the bathroom?"

"No," he shook his head and his brow furrowed in a moment of thought. "Nothing comes to mind."

"Well, your vitals all look good," I told him. "It might take up to ten days to get your lab results back. If you don't hear from us, that means everything is fine and we'll mail you a copy of the results."

"Yep. Sounds good," he agreed.

"I just have one question about your file... Under education, it says 'Post-Graduate'."

The term is kind of vague. A lot of people who take a college class or two after they graduate high school mistakenly think that means "post-graduate".

"Yeah," he nodded, and looked down with a grin as if he'd heard the question before. "Yeah, I have a Master of Arts in Philosophy."

"Oh. Okay." I made a note, and thought to myself that a career in philosophy must not pay as well as driving a truck.

"It's not what you think, though," Jared added.

"And what do I think?" I asked, holding the clipboard to my chest.

"Well, most folks reckon I was foolish enough to waste an education on something with no job prospects," he explained, and I felt a little guilty because that's exactly what I had assumed.

"I got my CDL and started driving a truck right outta high school. All that time behind the wheel, it gives you a lot of time to think. I saw this ad for an online university and figured if I'm gonna be doing all this thinking, well, I might as well learn to do it right. So I signed up for a philosophy class, enjoyed it, and took another one. Eventually I had enough credits that they gave me a BA and then an MA. I'm actually working on my PhD dissertation right now."

"Wow," I was impressed. He was ruggedly handsome, single, and well-educated. The universe was cruel indeed. I should have just done the examination and sent him on his way, but the conversation was just so effortless.

"I only ever took Philosophy 101 as an enrichment elective, so I probably won't understand it, but what's your dissertation on?"

"Oh, well, um... I don't have a title yet, but I'm studying exilic identity and how the mid-century writings of Albert Camus apply to the transient existence of the modern working class," he said, and the note of pride in his voice was tempered by a humble shrug of his shoulders. "Most people's eyes start to glaze over right about now."

"I admit, that went over my head," I nodded. "All I really got out of Intro to Philosophy was an answer to the question 'Who is your favorite philosopher?'."

"Oh, yeah? So who's your favorite philosopher?"

Why was I letting myself be drawn in like this? I should have stopped it. In a few minutes he'd walk out the door and drive away and break my heart. I was only making it worse, but god, it felt so good to have a casual conversation about something other than the weather. I missed good conversation so much.

"And don't say 'Hippocrates'," he added with a teasing grin. "That's too obvious."

I let out an indignant little sigh at the extra stipulation and I hoped it came off as cute rather than petulant. "Well, actually, I was going to say Sri Aurobindo."

"Oh yeah? You're into Integral Advaitism?" he grinned. "Nice."

"No," I confessed, my head hung in mock-embarrassment. "I don't really even remember what that means. Aurobindo was from Kolkata... That's where my parents are from."

Jared laughed at that. It was a light, airy laugh that suggested an effervescent sense of humor--one that I very much wanted to know better; one that I would never have a chance to.

"Honestly, that's as good a reason as any other," he conceded with a smile. His eyes met mine and I held his gaze for just a second or two too long again. I forced myself to shift into a more professional demeanor before I could set myself up for even more heartache.

"Yeah... Well, alright then, let's get started, shall we?" I set my stethoscope in my ears, ready to start the examination. And then I stopped.

I knew a relationship wasn't in the cards, but even if it was just for a night, I knew I wanted this man. I felt so desperately alone, so close to spiraling into full blown depression. So... Well, horny, dammit. What I wouldn't give for just one passionate night of sheet-clutching ecstasy.

What I wouldn't give...

I took the stethoscope off and hung it around my neck. He gave me a quizzical look.

"Listen, Jared... this is kinda unprofessional of me, but I don't meet a lot of single men around here, so I'm just gonna take a chance and ask... Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?"

He smiled. Those sexy grey eyes crinkled up in the corners, and he blushed again before his face dropped and he looked down at his knees. He shook his head and made a little "tch" sound, and I knew the answer.

"There aren't any restaurants around here, but I could cook," I offered, just to forestall the inevitable moment of rejection, but it came anyway.

"I wish I could, Pasha," he said, looking back up at me with earnest disappointment in his eyes. "I really do... But I gotta make another four hundred miles by ten o'clock tonight. I just... I can't."

It wasn't an outright rebuff. He was actually pretty gentle, by any standard. But it was still a little humiliating to put myself out there and then be turned down. It was unprofessional of me, and I really should have known better.

"Ah, well," I shrugged and tried to hide my chagrin. "I had to ask. I'm sorry if... If I embarrassed you at all."

"No, no," he assured me. "It's fine. I'm... I'm flattered. Really. I wish I could."

"Alright, well... Take off your shirt and we'll get you back on the road as quick as we can." I set the stethoscope back in my ears and went back into professional mode to try and regain some semblance of my dignity.

I went through the exam by the numbers, listening to his heart and lungs, checking his ears, eyes, nose, and throat. I was more than a little self-conscious when I asked him to lie back so I could feel his abdomen, but he took it in stride and it wasn't as awkward as it could have been. Still, it took all I had to ignore the sensation of his warm, dark skin beneath my hands and focus instead on the palpation exam.

And then it was done.

I jotted down a couple of notes, and that was it. The physical was over and Jared Barber was going to get dressed and leave. My mind and my heart were both racing. This was the first shot I had at physical intimacy in months, and I was about to lose it. This job, this place, this situation were so maddening I couldn't think straight through the desperation. There had to be something I could do to make this work. If I let this man walk out of my life, I knew I was going to regret it for a very, very long time. But what could I do? God, what could I do?

Jared sat up on the edge of the exam table and reached for his T-shirt.

"Wait," I said, stepping in front of him and laying my fingers gently on his bare chest.

I forced myself to look him in the eye, unable to believe what I was about to ask. "This... This is really, really unprofessional of me, and you have every right to say 'no', but... Look, if you had the time, you'd totally have dinner with me, right? You weren't just politely brushing me off were you?"

"No. No, of course not," he insisted. "I really do wish I had the time."

I would have never in a million years said the words if there were any other way. But there was no other way and the desire was overwhelming. I forced myself to push forward, damn the consequences.

"And after dinner, we'd probably end up in bed together, right? I mean, we're both intelligent, attractive adults, and I'm totally down for it, so there's no reason you wouldn't take me to bed, is there?"

"No, uh... None that I can think of," he confirmed with a bewildered smile.

"Then let's just forget about dinner and skip to sex," I urged, without giving either of us time to think. I dropped my hand to his knee and pushed it up his thigh under the leg of his boxers. I felt the hot weight of his penis on the back of my thumb.

"It's been almost a year for me, and I really want you..." He must have thought I was such a slut, but I didn't care. If I had to be a slut to satisfy this yearning, then so be it. I took his manhood in my hand and looked back up to his deep grey eyes. "So, if you want me too... You can have me... Right here, right n--"

Before I could finish, he leaned forward, reached his hand behind my neck, and pulled my mouth onto his.

My heart raced as I felt warm lips on mine for the first time in far too long. His penis swelled in my grip and I kissed him with impatient hunger, pushing my tongue into his mouth to taste the heat of him. With my other hand, I reached around his back to coax him up and off the exam table. He pushed himself to his feet without ever taking his lips from mine.

I felt the press of his growing erection against my hip as I ran my hands up his bare ribs and back. My knees went weak and I sank into the kiss I had so longed for. He held me tightly and grabbed my ass through my skirt as his lips and tongue wrestled mine.

With his hot skin under my hands, it suddenly occurred to me that I had a nearly naked man standing in my exam room and I was still fully clothed. I broke our kiss with a reluctant sigh and pushed him away as I stepped back.

"I can't believe I'm really doing this," I told him with a nervous smile, even as I tossed my stethoscope onto the chair, and shrugged out of my lab coat.

"Neither can I," he told me with a sly grin as his fingers began to nimbly unbutton my blouse and I opened the zipper on the side of my skirt. "But I think it's too late to stop now."

"Definitely too late," I agreed as my blouse fell open. I let it slide down my arms as I shimmied out of my skirt and kicked it away along with my shoes. As I stood there in the matching underwear set that complimented my caramel skin tone so well, I was grateful that I wasn't wearing twelve-pack Walmart undies. I mean, my boobs look awesome in this bra and Jared definitely noticed.

"Damn, you look fine," he muttered with a smile, shaking his head in disbelief as I did a giggling little pirouette to show off everything I had on offer.

His voracious gaze made me feel so sexy and so desired and just so appreciated. "This," I thought to myself, "this is why I bother."

He grabbed me then and pulled me into another deep, long kiss and I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him back. His broad hands roamed over my bare skin. I relished that intimate sensation of connection I had been missing, body against body, skin against skin.

"Oh god, I've waited so long for this," I murmured, closing my eyes and tilting my head as his lips left mine and drifted down my neck and throat. He nibbled his way back up to my ear as I pawed at his back and clutched his head against me. I felt his erection flex against my hip and the release of my bra as he unhooked the clasp. His hands wandered unimpeded across my bare back. His fingers drifted under the lacey waist of my underwear.

My heart, my brain, my soul all melted in his embrace and trickled down my thighs.

I hastily pulled my arms out of my bra, tugged the lace from between our bodies, and flung it aside. The feel of my bare tits crushed against his warm body sent a slow motion convulsion down my spine. His hands moved up my ribs and cupped the weight of my chest. I felt the gentle pinch of my taut nipples between his clutching fingers and I trembled with a mini orgasm that I hoped would be the first of many.

"Oh, fuck I like the way you touch me," I whispered before Jared turned his face back up to mine and kissed me again.

Against my hip, his erection flexed once more. I had a vague sense of his length and girth, but I suddenly needed to know if the rumours about Black men were true.

My lips left his and I dragged my tits down his stomach as I dropped to my knees on the scuffed industrial tile in front of him. Without hesitation, I shamelessly grabbed the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down to his ankles. The straining lance of ebony flesh that bobbed in front of me was dripping slick with precum.

"I hope you're not disappointed," he said with a contrite smile. "Some women have, uh... unrealistic expectations."

"Not at all," I assured him, wrapping my hand around his turgid shaft and caressing its pulsing heat against my cheek. He wasn't monstrously huge, but the stereotype was true enough for me. He was the biggest I had ever had.

Jared let out a low groan as I pressed my tongue to the underside of his cock and slowly licked him from his heavy testicles to the tip of his glans. Looking up at him, I teasingly flicked his cockhead with my tongue once and then again before wrapping my lips around him and gently stroking him in my grip.

I used to be good at this. I hoped I still was.

"Mmm, Pasha... Damn, girl that feels so good." The ache of ecstasy showed on his face as he looked down at me and twined his fingers in my hair. I held his gaze in mine as I sucked on his big dick, using my tongue and my teeth and every trick of fellatio I knew to drive him over the edge.

"Oh, god... Oh, shit... Mmmm... Damn," Jared grunted. His shaft grew slick and wet as I salivated along his length, taking him as deep into my throat as I could. Before I knew it, I was drooling over that magnificent erection, the slaver running down my chin and dripping hot on my bare chest.

I didn't care how much of a mess I was. I wanted to see the tension in his eyes as he struggled to hold back, and feel the surge of release as his resolve broke against my long-dormant cock-sucking talent.

Jared's eyes stayed locked with mine. He bit his lip as the strain built. He tried to pull his ardent manhood away from my face, but I wasn't going to let him. I grabbed his scrotum and rolled his testes gently between my fingers as I jacked his shaft faster, suckled his glans harder.

"Dammit Pasha, I'm gonna blow if you don't stop!" he grimaced.

"Do it!" I urged quickly, before engulfing him again. A moment later, I was rewarded with a guttural moan of release as he swelled one final time before erupting into my mouth. I let my lips part as he continued to ejaculate.

God, I had missed the salty tang of thick semen on my tongue, running down my throat and chin. It was gratifying to know that I hadn't lost my touch, that I could still inflame a lover's passion almost effortlessly.

Jared was panting slightly as he helped me to my feet, his dark face flushed from his orgasm.

"It looks like we're going to need another semen sample, Mr. Barber," I teased him with a sultry grin as I wiped my chin with a finger and licked it clean. "I'm afraid I've... misplaced the first one."

He shook his head with a laugh. "You're gonna have to give me a minute, Doc," he said, and he pulled me into his embrace and kissed me hard. I held his body tight to mine as my hands wandered up his broad back. His hands dived into my underwear, groping at my ass.

"How about you let me at that lonely little pussy while we wait?" Jared asked, stepping back and taking my hips in his hands.

"Oh!" I exclaimed in surprise as he spun me around. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, mauling my boobs with his palms, kissing my neck and shoulders. My ass pressed against his hips and I felt his spent cock hanging wet and heavy against the back of my thighs. As I closed my eyes and relaxed into his grasping embrace, I took one of his hands in mine and guided it down my body, past my navel ring, down and down into my underwear and between my legs.

His hand found me sopping and eager. His two middle fingers opened my blossoming labia and curled into me. He felt the sudden tension as I gripped him tighter and my body succumbed to another deep shiver.

"Oh, yeah. There is it," he whispered in my ear as he massaged the slippery flesh behind my clit. "There's that little love button. Tell me how you like it, Pasha. Tell me what to do."

"Faster!" I hissed and his fingers quivered faster inside of me. "But gently." The deep massage eased to a fluttery tickle. "Yes!" I moaned, "Ooooh-Hhhhoh... Just like that... Unngggh.."

His right hand worked me into a froth. His left arm wrapped around me and grasped at my right boob. I felt the weight of his body against mine, the heat of his skin, the prickle of his stubble against my cheek. No vibrator can give you that sense of intimacy and connection, no matter what you name it. I clung to his strong arms and bit my lip to keep from moaning out loud as my knees went weak and I was seized by another mini-orgasm.

As his fingers withdrew from my sex, he dragged them up across my swollen clitoris, sending another shiver up my spine. Jared slipped his slick fingers between his lips and sucked my hot essence off of them.

"Is it true that Indian pussy tastes like curry?" he murmured in my ear, and before I could even roll my eyes he added "Because I don't think I've ever had curry before, but I like how you taste."

"Want some more?" I asked, rolling my head to the side as he nuzzled the nape of my neck and groped at my bare tits. Reaching behind me, I fondled his not-yet-recovered penis. If I could be curious about Black guys having big cocks, I guess it was only fair for him to be curious about Desi girl stereotypes.

"Damn right I do," he replied with no hesitation. His strong arm held my waist as he pushed me forward, bending me over the exam table. The paper crinkled beneath my boobs as he pulled my underwear down my legs. I kicked them away and he forced my ankles apart, spreading me open to him.

I felt the ticklish bristle of his scruff between my thighs before the rapid flicking of his tongue assaulted my eager little clit provoking a deep moan of satisfaction. His tongue probed into me and his lips suckled at my blooming flesh, but Jared didn't stop there. His hands spread my buttocks apart and he licked his way across my delicate perineum until his tongue was swirling around my anus.

I'd never had my ass eaten before and the novel sensation evoked a shudder of ecstasy. My knees quivered and I collapsed against the exam table.

"Oh god, that... That is... Oh, GOD!" I moaned, louder than I meant to, as the paper covering the table crumpled in my grasping fingers.

I could see myself in the mirror on the wall, naked, bent over the table with my ass in the air, my tits crushed beneath my chest. I could see the naked Black man on his knees, his swelling manhood bobbing with anticipation. The image seemed so out of place in the sterile, organized confines of the exam room--so primal and filthy and raw. I couldn't believe that the slut I saw in the mirror was me.

This was so far beyond unprofessional conduct that I couldn't even comprehend how much trouble I might be in. Could my contract be terminated? Could I lose my license? The respect of my family? My own self-respect?

I didn't care.

I was on the precipice of a shattering orgasm, and in that moment there was nothing I wouldn't sacrifice for it.

Jared's hands were everywhere, caressing my legs and hips and ass and ribs, as he orally ravished my nether regions sending an exhilarating thrill through my body.

"Yes! Yes! Ye-ahhhHHHmmmph," I cried out and then clamped my teeth into the padded exam table to stifle the orgasmic scream that tried to escape my quavering throat. Jared was relentless, devouring my ass and puss, heaping more and more stimulation on my overwhelmed nerves until the sheer euphoria was all-consuming. I was aware of nothing else.

It had been so long since I had experienced anything like that.

At last the ferocious orgasm subsided and I found myself panting, slouched face down against the exam table.

"I guess I did alright, huh?" Jared asked. He punctuated the question by slapping my ass, sending one more languishing shiver up my spine.

"That was amazing," I admitted, rolling over to slouch facing him. He helped me stand up and get my balance as I added "No one has ever rocked my world like that before."

"Think you can do it again?" I asked, taking his reinvigorated erection in my hand and stroking the length of it.

Jared took my bare shoulders in his hands and pulled me into another long deep kiss. I could taste my own hot nectar on his lips and tongue. Standing there in the exam room with my naked body pressed to his, I felt such a connection. The shared experience of such reckless intimacy inflamed my desire for him.

I felt the yearning in his throbbing cock wrapped in my fingers and knew that he longed for my body in the same way. His lips left mine and traced my jaw to the hollow behind my ear and then down my neck to the nape of my shoulder.

"Take me," I whispered in his ear, almost begging, "Take me now!"

Jared grabbed me by the ass, and I barely suppressed a startled squeal as he lifted me off the floor. He set me gently on the edge of the exam table with my legs splayed, paper crinkling beneath my ass.

He paused a beat and stared down at my naked body with a hungry smile. But I felt appreciated enough so I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck and I devoured his mouth in another desperate kiss. The weight of my tits and the hot, firm flesh of his dick were sandwiched between us and I could feel the cool slick of his pre-cum smearing across my skin.

Jared pulled his hips back enough to let the mass of his big Black cock drop prone between us, and I wiggled my ass until his sticky head nestled between the drooling folds of my ravenous puss.

"Do I need a rubber, or something?"

"No, it's fine."

Slowly at first, and then all at once, he was in me. I bit my lip to stifle the groan of unbearable satisfaction that swelled from deep in my core.

The placid expression of desire on Jared's face reflected my own lust. His eyes closed and his mouth shifted from a loose pucker to a wider gasp with a smile playing about his lips as he withdrew his rod, grabbed my ass, and thrust it back.

"Oh, that's a tight little pussy, Doc," he sighed, and started fucking me in earnest with long steady strokes. "Damn, that feels good."

"Unf... Stretch me out... Don't be gentle." I demanded, clinging around his neck with my ass perched on the edge of the table. "Make me take the whole damn thing. I wanna feel it all."

He thrust in harder and I pulled him deeper, my ankles crossed behind his back. Deep down in my gut I could feel long-dormant muscles distend, straining to accommodate the unyielding girth that impaled me.

"Yes! Ohhh, god... Ah! That's it!... Ah!... Yes!" I cried out, in sweet agony at the effort of receiving him.

Jared moved a hand up behind my head, tangling his fingers in my hair, and holding my forehead to his. Gazing into his bright gray eyes, I could see the same desperate need for release, the same longing for connection and intimacy, the same loneliness.

In an instinctive, animalistic trance, I rocked my hips back and forth, pulling his unrelenting manhood into me deeper and deeper with every thrust, unaware of how precarious my seat actually was or how slippery I was making the vinyl exam table.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, as my ass slipped off the edge.

"I got you," Jared assured me, still deeply embedded in me, his strong hands cradling my ass and my back. "I got you."

"You got me," I panted and pulled myself up by his broad shoulders to press my lips to his.

Jared set me back on the table, then unclasped my entwined hands from behind his neck and with tender ease laid me back supine. Standing over me, his slick, bronze erection was only half way in, and I started to inch forward again.

"No, no," he whispered, "Let's try something else." I was all too willing.

He took my ankles in his hands, and raised my legs in front of him. Reaching under my knees, he held my arms at my sides and took my hands in his and he pulled. Slowly, and with steady purpose, he pulled me on to the full length of his cock until my hungry little puss had swallowed the whole thing.

"God that is so... so deep..." I moaned, closing my eyes, throwing my head back. I pulled tight against his arms to keep him planted balls-deep inside me as I savored the tight fullness in my belly. "Ohhh... you fill me so tight."

"You like that?" he asked.

"Yesss!" I hissed, wiggling my ass against his thighs.

For just a moment, I felt the tension in his muscles ease and the pressure deep in my loins abate. I felt my overstretched body begin to relax. He didn't withdraw but a fraction of an inch though, before his arms tightened, pulling forward. Instinctively, I pulled too. With a short, quick tug, he had reached my limit again.

I gasped with surprise, my eyes snapping open. As he looked down on me from between my ankles with a lusty smile of conquest, Jared started fucking me with short, but powerful strokes. He filled me with a constant churning stimulation that never left me a moment to recoup.

"Ungh! Ungh! Unh-god, Yes! Yes! Oh! Oh! Ah!" I cried out louder than I meant to, grunting with every thrust.

I felt the searing strain deep in my core. I felt the bounce of my tits heaving on my chest as our bodies contracted into each other over and over again. I felt the intimacy between us in his gaze as I pulled harder on his hands and curled my head up off the table to watch him watching me.

"You like that?" Jared asked again, louder, matching my enthusiasm. "You like getting that tight little pussy fucked by a big Black dick, huh?"

The exam room was supposed to be soundproof, although I had never tested it.

"God, yes!" I practically screamed. "I love it! I love the way you fuck me... So hard... And so deep... And so fast... I love it!"

What if Sandy could hear us, though? What if the sound proofing was only meant for a quiet consultation? What would I say if Sandy knocked on the door? There is no lock. What would I do if she came in and found me lying naked on my own exam table, with my legs in the air and a patient fucking me absolutely senseless? How long would it be before the whole town, the whole county, knew what a dirty fucking slut their doctor is?

And why did the thought turn me on so goddamn much?

"Oh, god, I'm gonna cum so hard!" I wailed, heedless of the consequences.

My back arched, pushing my shoulders into the padded table, tilting my ass. If anything, the change of angle pushed him even deeper into me.

"Yeah, do it!" Jared insisted, driving himself harder and faster. "Cum for me, Pasha. I wanna feel you cumming on my dick!"

"Don't fucking stop!" I growled, letting go of him with one hand and reaching down between my legs where the root of his slick phallus spread me open. I found my clit swollen and agitated like never before and I rubbed it under my two middle fingers with urgent fury.

A jolt of ecstatic energy surged through me. I felt my whole body clench and spasm around the sumptuous length of flesh buried inside me.

"Oh, god, Yes! Yes! Ye-ahhhHHH!!!" With my eyes screwed shut, I let myself cry out in the trembling, unrestrained release of another raging orgasm.

As my senses returned one by one, the passionate churning in my belly ceased, but the wonderful tumescent sensation inside of me remained. The hand gripping mine loosened, twisted, twining its fingers between mine as I lay there panting in the afterglow. It was more than just physical. Beyond my body, my mind and spirit felt calm, renewed, satiated after a long and terrible hunger.

"That... That was... Oh, god... I don't have words..." I gasped.

"You really needed that," Jared said, stroking and nuzzling my outstretched calf propped on his shoulder.

"I really did," I agreed with a sigh, brushing my hair off my face with my free hand. "Help me up?"

I untangled my legs and let them dangle off the table as he took my hands and pulled me up towards him. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I kissed him again, long and slow, my bare chest smashed against his. He raked his fingers gently through my hair and the fuzz of his short-cropped curls tickled my palms as I caressed his head, each of us guiding the other in a kiss full of gratitude and emotion and communion.

Between my legs I felt his still-rampant erection flex inside of me.

"You're not done yet, are you?" I asked, stroking his jawline. I could see the hungry answer in his eyes.

"I really do need to get back on the road," he balked, but without much enthusiasm. One hand drifted down my bare back and grabbed my ass.

"Hm. As your doctor, I really don't recommend leaving an erection unfulfilled like that," I told him with the most professional demeanor I could manage, considering the topic of conversation was stuffed inside of me. "It could lead to painful ischemic priapism or even erectile dysfunction."

I kissed his neck and rocked my hips back and forth, coaxing another flex from his engorged dick.

"We, uh... We wouldn't want that, would we?" he asked with a breathy groan, squeezing my ass in both hands.

"No we wouldn't," I agreed, scooching myself back away from him with a sigh. As his taut shaft slipped free, it snapped upright, spattering us both with my love juice. I took him in my hand, the majestic Black cock that had given me such a gratifying and memorable orgasm.

"Besides," I added, with a sultry gaze, "I still want a chance to ride this monster."

"Well, if it's doctor's orders..." Jared conceded with a grin as he climbed up on the exam table and I scooted around to make room. He stretched out long and lean and naked, his dark skin reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights above us.

I swung a leg across his body, straddling his hips with my clit nestled against his scrotum, and measured the length of his cock against my belly.

"Y'know, no one's ever been this deep before," I told him as I pressed his shaft to my skin. "Virgin territory."

He laughed that shy, airy, irrepressible laugh again and stroked my thighs, coaxing me up onto my knees.

"You do know how to make a man feel special, Pasha."

"Mm-hm... Now you just lie back and enjoy this."

As I tucked him back in between my swollen folds, I bit my lip and gave him a coy smile. With my eyes locked on his, I relished the expression of blissful agony on his face as I leisurely impaled myself.

I like being on top. There's an agency, a feeling of ownership. This isn't just something happening to me, this is something that I am doing, something I want. When I'm on top of a guy, looking down over him as I bounce on his cock, watching the passion and the ecstasy on his face, I feel so feminine. Like my role in this beautiful, primal connection is so clearly defined and it just fills me with an energy I can't get from a trashy novel and a vibrator.

"Ohhhhhhh, god..." I moaned as Jared filled me. I felt sumptuous and wanton and glorious. As he stroked my thighs, I ran my hands up my own body, fondling my tits, caressing my face, combing my fingers through my hair and eventually reaching skyward, stretching out my arms and spine, luxuriating in the sway of our union.

Catching sight of the unlocked door again, I again wondered what Sandy would think if she walked in and caught me fucking a patient. Some primitive little piece of my brain actually wanted her to. I want to be caught and exposed for the slut that I am. God, the idea made me so hot; I ground my hips around on Jared's cock with all my weight.

"Aw, Pasha, yeah..." he moaned, reaching for my tits. I leaned forward, letting them sway into his reach and relished the feel of their weight in his groping hands. "You look so damn good riding my dick like that. Mmmmm..."

"Yeah?" I asked in a husky whisper, "You like the way these titties fill your hands?"

"I do," he agreed, leaning up to take a plump nipple between his lips and make teasing circles with his tongue.

"You like the way this tight... little... Desi... puss... fucks?" With each word, I thrust my hips into his groin for emphasis.

"Fuck, yesss!" he groaned, arching his back to raise his hips and meet my rhythm.

"You gonna give me that semen sample I asked for? Hmm? Are you gonna cum for me, Mr. Barber?"

He laughed at that.

"C'mere, Doc," Jared beckoned with a sultry grin. He reached for my neck, and pulled my face down towards his, and once again devoured my mouth in a kiss full of shameless disregard for the doctor/patient relationship.

I braced my elbows on either side of him and let my tits graze lightly over his muscled pecs as I kissed him. His fingers dug into my ass and urged my hips back into motion. We quickly settled into a staccato tempo of thrust and counterthrust, fucking each other with reckless abandon. Soon, I was gasping for breath. I felt the pores begin to prickle on my skin and I felt the slick of Jared's sweat beneath me.

"Oh, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I panted as I felt my thighs burning and the ache in my shoulders and core building. "God, I don't wanna stop, but I can't take much more!"

"Nah, we got this, girl," Jared insisted, breathing hard. He brushed the unruly hair from my face and looked deep into my eyes. "Nobody ever loved me this hard. You're gonna have me going off like a fucking jizz volcano any minute."

His urgently bucking hips shifted to a slower but stronger and steady cadence. Reinvigorated by his bawdy encouragement, I matched him, working his cock with long and languid withdrawals, and quick, powerful injections that slammed the air from my lungs with deeply satisfying grunts.

Our fervent moans and cries were joined by the grating squeak of locked casters on vinyl tiles as the heavy exam table shifted under our constant back-and-forth jolting. We both laughed, but we didn't break our stride. If anything, the squeak squeak squeak of the exam table inching across the floor renewed my furor and I drove my body even harder towards the brink.

"Mmm, Pasha, I'm there, girl... You Ready?" Jared finally gasped.

"Yes!" I hissed, pressing my forehead to his and staring down into his yearning eyes. "Cum for me, baby! Cum for me! Cum for me!"

The exam table stopped squeaking as he wrapped me in his arms and thrust his hips up off the table, raising me off my knees, pushing all my weight tight against him, driving him into my depths. As Jared moaned my name, I felt him swell deep inside and I felt his trembling tension beneath me.

No matter what kind of birth control you use, there's always a chance of failure. It may be small, but it's not zero. And at this moment, with potent seed flowing through my cervix, I always wonder--is this that moment? Is this the moment when something goes wrong? Is this the moment that changes in my life forever? In that moment, I felt so feminine, and so connected, and so--just for a moment--loved.

Held snug in Jared's arms, his glistening skin pressed to mine, one final shiver seized my spine and then every muscle let go. I melted into his steamy embrace as he collapsed beneath me back onto the exam table.

We both lay there for a long minute catching our breath. My head rested on his shoulder. His fingers traced a gentle path up and down my spine.

In those last few moments I tried to etch every sensation into my memory, the sound of his breath so close to my ear, the warm feel of his cooling skin and the curve of his placid muscles, the smell of his sweat, the dilation of my vagina around his erection, even as it slowly subsided. It might be months or years before I experience any of this again, and I wanted to savor the now, before it became then.

My breathing slowed and so did Jared's. His spent penis finally slipped from between my lips leaving a waft of cool air. I pushed myself up and crossed my arms over his chest, looked down at him and said "You have to go now, don't you?"

"I have to go," he agreed, without urgency, his fingers still wandering up and down my bare back.

"Will I ever see you again?"

"I come through this part of the country a few times a year," he replied. "Usually try to make the best time I can and put it behind me quick, but... I'm thinking I might have reason to linger. You got my number in your files, right?"

"Yeah, I've got it," I confirmed, that flutter returning to my chest.

"Send me a text so I have yours. Next time I'm through this way, I'll jigger the schedule so I can take you up on dinner."

"How 'bout I make a curry?" I suggested with a smile as I rolled off of him. "You can judge for yourself what Desi girls taste like."

He laughed at that as he sat up. "It's a date."

As we gathered our clothes, I glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was nearly one-thirty. There would be patients in the waiting room, and whether the room was really soundproof or not, Sandy must have noticed how long we had been in here alone together. I doubt Jesus would approve.

A flush started to rise on my cheeks.

Jared and I dressed with haste. While I took a minute to do something about my ruined makeup and straighten out my tousled hair, Jared moved the wandering exam table back to the middle of the room and replaced the sanitary paper we had crumpled and stained.

"I gotta admit, I'm not real clear on the protocol here," Jared said, once the evidence of our tryst had been somewhat dealt with. "Should I leave first? Do we go out together?"

"Uh..." I hesitated. I normally leave the room while patients get dressed. If there was any hope of pretending everything was normal and escaping a scandal, I should leave first. I had no idea what was waiting for us on the other side of the door. I really didn't want to find out either, but it was time to face the music.

"I should go out first," I sighed, my shoulders slumping. "If we're busted, I'm the one who was unprofessional and I'm the one who has to live with the consequences."

"That doesn't seem right," Jared consoled. I didn't expect him to understand. Consequences are something men so rarely have to deal with.

"Right or not, it's the way it is," I shrugged. "And if I get in trouble--I mean first of all, it was worth it--but that's no reason for you to be late and get in trouble too. So just wait a minute or so and then get back on the road and get going. Okay?"

"I wish there was something more I could do."

"You have done so much for me already. You have no idea."

We shared one last all-too-brief goodbye kiss before I forced myself to push him away and step out through the door without looking back.

There were a half dozen people in the waiting room, and they all turned to look at me. Another flush rose on my cheeks and I felt the prickle of sweat all over again. I was certain the guilt of my indiscretion was obvious to everyone and it was just a matter of time before the slut-shaming started.

I steeled myself to my fate and forced myself to take Jared's... Mr. Barber's folder up to the receptionist desk so Sandy could process him out. But I couldn't bring myself to make eye contact with anyone and kept my gaze fixed firmly on the floor, my fingers rubbing my brow to hide my face. I'm sure it didn't make me look any less guilty.

As I tossed the folder towards her inbox tray and turned to rush back to my office, Sandy said in a loud, clear voice "It sounded like a real battle to reset that dislocated shoulder in there."

"It's not what you-- wait... uh, what?" I stammered my response to the unexpected comment, and very nearly ruined everything.

"Procedures like that take so much physical exertion," Sandy continued, loud enough to be heard by the entire waiting room. "All that grunting and groaning and banging around. It's a shame we don't have a big, strong orderly to help with that sort of thing."

"Uh, Yeah," I agreed, finally catching on the ruse. Everyone in the waiting room had gone back to looking at their phones or their magazines. "That was a tough one... Really took it outta me."

"Well, you take a minute and get yourself pulled together." Sandy gave me a conspiratorial wink and an I-told-you-so glance toward heaven. That's when I knew everything would be okay after all. Whatever she knew or suspected, whatever scandal I might have created, Sandy still had my back.

With a sigh of relief I headed back towards my office to fix my face and sort myself out before seeing my next patient. The exam room door opened behind me and I turned to see Jared walking towards the exit. I paused for a moment and when he stopped to check with Sandy at the reception desk I caught his eye just long enough to exchange a little wave goodbye before I slipped into my office. I didn't want to watch him walk out the door.

Safely in my office with the door closed, I slumped back into my chair, kicked off my shoes, and gave myself a minute to breathe. For the first time in months, I felt relaxed, at ease, and actually just a little bit hopeful about the next few years.

Special thanks to my beta readers, Blind_Justice and his lady love; my editor, CiaoSteve; and to HeyAll for organizing the 2025 On The Job story anthology.