A Baby for Tina

This is a work of fiction, and a collaboration between me and my fantastic husband, Brian. I wrote the first part, and Brian contributed everything from the beginning of the Bahamas section to the end of the story. I did my best to blend the two parts together as seamlessly as possible, but if the story seems like it was written by two separate authors, that’s because it was. If you like one part better than the other, now you know who to blame for the part you didn’t like. Brian took the story in a slightly different direction than what I would have, but I still like the way he wrapped everything up. We hope you enjoy the finished product.

(As a humorous aside as you read the story, I should point out that the character Tim’s loathing of feet is taken directly from Brian’s real-life opinions on the subject. When you get to the sections about toe sucking and footjobs, keep in mind that I wrote those specifically to sort of playfully tweak Brian’s nose and make him squirm.)

This story is dedicated to the fearless men and women of Fire and Rescue worldwide who, like Brian and our friend Matt once did, wade through the fires of hell into places everyone else is running out of, hoist their hoses onto their shoulders, and charge.

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Brad looked at the beauty sitting across the table from him. Tina Miller truly was beautiful: thirty-four, tall, long-limbed, fit, a natural blonde, with stunning blue eyes, perfect skin, and a beautiful smile. More than that, though, her beauty was not merely skin deep. She was one of the kindest, sweetest people he had ever known, and in spite of the stereotype of blondes being not too bright, Tina was easily the smartest person he knew. After all, Johns Hopkins Medical School wasn’t exactly known for awarding medical degrees to idiots. His brother was a lucky man.

Had been a lucky man, he corrected himself. He grimaced at the last memory he had of his twin brother: a polished-oak coffin being lowered into the ground on a bitterly cold winter afternoon, surrounded by firefighters with black bands over their badges, as a bagpiper played “Amazing Grace”.

“So, Doc,” he smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “What brings you to town?”

Tina’s own smile slowly faded as she laid her silverware delicately across her plate and pushed it away. “I’m here to ask a favor,” she said quietly. “A really big favor.”

His reply was immediate. “Name it.”

“You haven’t heard what it is yet,” Tina observed, trying a weak laugh. She had barely touched her dinner, delicious as it was, yet her stomach scolded her for eating as much as she did. There was barely enough room left for the butterflies, which felt like they were rapidly turning into vultures.

Brad shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re still a part of this family, as far as I and everyone else is concerned. Tim loved you more than you’ll ever know. The fact that he died doesn’t change a thing.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, listening to the sincerity in Brad’s voice and knowing that it was genuine. A small tear trickled down her cheek and she swiped it away, embarrassed.

“Now, what can I do for you?”

Tina took a deep breath through her nose, and under the table her hands balled into tight fists in a futile effort to stop them from shaking. Here we go, she told herself, a second before leaping into the abyss.

“I want you to make me pregnant,” she said, doing her best to look at him as she said it. She felt slightly better now that her words were out. But now the real fear began: waiting for his reply.

Brad managed with great effort not to choke on his wine. When Tina said she was asking for a favor, his brain rapidly ran through the possibilities. This, however, was not one of them. Not by a long shot.

“I beg your pardon?” he managed to ask. It sounded better, he decided, than the initial kneejerk response his mind had come up with: “WHAT?”

Tina sighed deeply. “I don’t know how much your brother talked to you about our relationship, so excuse me if I touch on things you already know.

“When Tim and I got married, we didn’t want kids. I had just finished my residency, but I was just starting my two-year fellowship, which is almost as bad. Simply put, I didn’t have time to be pregnant, and I certainly didn’t have time for a baby. We didn’t know if we’d ever want kids. Maybe, maybe not. Tim was already pushing up against forty, and he didn’t know if he had the patience for children.

“Several months before Tim’s accident, we started talking seriously about kids. We eventually decided that yes, we wanted two, maybe three kids to carry on our legacy after we were gone.

“I don’t know if Tim had some sort of premonition that he was going to die soon or what, but he talked very frankly about how he had had some close calls over his career and how he had seen buddies killed or maimed. He used to talk about how, ‘When your number’s up, it’s up’. He asked me how I would feel if we had a child or two and something happened to him while the kids were little, if I was prepared to raise them on my own. My answer was that if that ever happened, I’d cherish the kids even more because they were a part of him that I would still have to love.

“A few months later, I weaned myself off birth-control and we started trying to get me pregnant. It never happened, obviously. I hope not, anyway, because that would just be too cruel.”

Brad frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“We were keeping pretty close track on my menstrual cycles, and the day before Tim died was the day I should have started my period that month. I didn’t. There’s nothing unusual about being a day or two late or early, so I didn’t let myself get my hopes up. I didn’t tell Tim, either, because I didn’t want to get his hopes up, either.

“The next day was the newspaper warehouse fire.” She flinched as she said it, as if she had just been slapped. “I was at the hospital when I got the news about Tim, and I didn’t react well, as you can probably imagine.

“Over the next several days, my skipped period was about the furthest thing from my mind. Two weeks later was when things finally started showing a hint of getting back to normal, and that’s when my period started.” She shook her head. “Stress can make a woman skip a period, and God knows I was under enough of it to make the worst days of my residency look like a picnic in comparison. Stress can also cause a woman to miscarry, especially early on. I’ll tell you, I’m always going to wonder if what happened two weeks after the funeral was a menstrual period or a miscarriage that maybe failed to implant because of everything that was going on. I tell myself it was just a routine period, but mostly it’s because I tell myself the universe could not possibly be so cruel to let my beloved husband be killed and then allow his child to miscarry. Obviously I could have answered that question with a simple test. But I didn’t order it, because I was afraid it was going to tell me that yes, the universe really is that cruel. As they say, denial’s not just a river in Egypt.” The catch in her voice finally erupted in full-blown tears. Brad reached across the table and laid a comforting hand on her arm.

“Brad, there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I was carrying Tim’s child. It’s been six months since he died. I look at pregnant women who are in their sixth month or so, and all I can think about is that could be me. It should be me, dammit. Just a week or so ago, there was a patient at the hospital that I asked another doctor to take for me, for one simple reason: she was pregnant. The reason I was supposed to see her had nothing to do with her pregnancy, but you know what? I was jealous. I was so jealous that I didn’t know if I could be fully objective, so I did what a doctor’s supposed to do if we can’t be objective: I excused myself from the case.

“This is terrible, and I wish I didn’t feel this way, but I’m angry. I’m angry at myself that we didn’t start trying to have a baby sooner, I’m angry at Tim for the same reason, and I’m angry at Tim for making a mistake and dying because of it. I don’t know what happened in that fire, but I know he must have made a mistake of some sort. He used to tell me that he was in no danger, as long as no one made a mistake. I don’t know if that was true, or if it was something he told me so I wouldn’t worry. Mistakes happen; no one knows that better than me. When I was a senior resident, I made a mistake that killed a patient. I was on duty too long, I’d been awake for more than twenty-four hours, but that’s no excuse. I thought one thing was wrong with her and it was something else. Problem was, the drug I ordered was the absolute worst thing we could have done for her, considering what was actually wrong, and she died. I was cleared by a review board, because they agreed that, under the circumstances, they might have made the same call I did, so yeah, I know mistakes happen, and sometimes they’re serious enough mistakes that people die.

“But Tim made a mistake and it was him that died, and that’s not okay. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he did everything right and he still died, because stuff just happens sometimes. Either way, he’s dead, and all I’ve got left of him is videos, pictures, and memories. It’s not fair, dammit!”

Tina took a deep breath, realizing she was letting herself get out of control, then held it and let it out slowly. After a moment of quiet meditation, she was calm again.

“Tim was in a fairly unique situation: he had an identical twin brother. You. I realize there were differences between the two of you. Just as an example, I say this in love, but Tim was a slob, while you’re probably the most obsessively neat person I know. But you’re more alike than you were different: you’re both kind, loving, and handsome. What’s more, the thing I remember best about Tim was his fantastic sense of humor, and you’re the same way. More than anything, though, you and your brother share the same DNA.

“What I’m asking for is something I have no right to ask you for, and you have every right to tell me to go to the airport, get on the next plane, and never come back. But something that Tim taught me is that sometimes the only reason we don’t get something we want is simply because we don’t ask. I’m asking. If you say no, that’s fine, I understand. I just hope you’ll understand why I asked and what it took for me to come here and ask you this, and not hate me for doing so.

“I don’t expect an answer right now. I know I’m asking for the moon, and you need time to make a decision you’re sure about. I’m flying home in the morning, and when you make a decision, you know how to get in touch with me. Call me anytime; I don’t care if it’s 3:00 in the morning.

“If you say yes, I’ll agree to anything you want, and I’ll sign anything you want. If you tell me you don’t ever want anything to do with the child, fine; you hire an attorney to draw up paperwork that says whatever you want, and I’ll sign it. I’ll even pay for the attorney. If you want to be a part of the child’s life, that’s fine, too. I hope you’ll want to, but it’s up to you. Also, when the child is an adult and asks about their father, I give you my word, I’ll tell him or her whatever you want me to: I can either tell them you’re their father, or I can tell them that they were the product of sperm that Tim had frozen just in case anything happened to him.”

Brad shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “So, um, if I say yes, how do we go about it? I’m assuming I make a sperm donation, like I would at a sperm bank, and then some doctor takes it from there.”

“That’s one way,” Tina nodded. “I know you aren’t married or engaged, but it’s probably the best way, if you have a girlfriend. But if I can be blunt, I’d prefer not to hang a picture of a turkey baster on the wall with ‘Daddy’ underneath it, or get to feeling all warm and fuzzy whenever I walk down the cooking accessories lane at the supermarket. I’m ready for you to make me pregnant the same way billions of women have gotten pregnant since the beginning of time. After all, the least I can do is make sure you have a good time in the process. And if I can continue to be blunt, it’s my preference. On the other hand, I don’t know how you feel about sleeping with your brother’s widow, so…”

After they both said no to dessert, the waitress delivered the check. Brad reached for it, but Tina deftly palmed it with the skill of a professional pickpocket. She signed it, and smiled at her dinner companion.

“I know I’ve given you a lot to think about. Take your time, and call me when you make your decision. Whatever you decide, I promise I’ll respect it.” She slowly slid a plastic swipe card printed with the hotel’s logo across the table.

“I’m in Room 1003 upstairs. I’m leaving for the airport sometime after 6:00 in the morning to catch my flight home. Until then, that’s where I’ll be. If you would like to talk some more, visit for a while and reminiscence together about your brother, or, ah, do anything else, I’d love to have you visit,” she said softly.

Brad slowly shook his head and gave her a small apologetic smile. “Tina, I…”

“No,” she said slowly, in a voice just barely above a soft whisper. “I know. I show up, drop this in your lap, tell you to take your time making a decision, and then I turn around and look like I’m trying to seduce you up to my room to do the deed right here and now. The truth is, you’re right, I am trying to seduce you, but not for the reason you think. You look so much like your brother that it’s breaking my heart all over again. I’m going up to my room because I don’t want to break down here in the restaurant, and if I stay any longer, that’s what is going to happen.

“If you join me, I’m going to ask you to hold me while I cry on your shoulder. Anything that happens beyond that, as far as I’m concerned, is between two consenting adults and is no one’s business but our own. If that means you and I end up in bed together, fine, but I’m not trying to lure you into my bed because I want a child. Whatever decision you make, I want you to be sure it’s the right one, and I know you can’t decide something like that on the spot. No one could, which is why if anything happens tonight, I’ll insist on a condom. Stop by the hotel gift shop and buy some on your way upstairs. I don’t have any, and besides, I want you to be satisfied that I haven’t tampered with them.” She slid her chair back from the table and stood, and Brad did the same. She kissed him on the cheek then hugged him tightly, placing her lips right next to his ear.

“Please don’t leave me to cry alone,” she whispered. Then she released him, and without another word, turned and quietly walked away toward the hotel lobby and elevator bank, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

“Damn,” he said quietly, staring at the key card in front of him, after she departed. She wanted him to father her child. Am I up to that? he wondered. Could he say yes? Perhaps a better question was, could he say no? If I say no, am I breaking faith with my brother, with my own flesh and blood? And what of Tina? Is she sincere, or is there some ulterior motive lurking deep inside? Brad was as cynical as any forty-one year-old, but he wanted to believe her and to take her at her word. It “felt” real, and he had never for a moment doubted that she was a good person, with her heart entirely in the right place.

More importantly, his brother had trusted her, and even after more than twelve years with her and nearly six of those years spent married to her, he had loved her to, literally, his dying breath. Brad knew something about his brother’s death that Tina didn’t. She had been told that Tim died instantly in the wall collapse that took his life, because what actually happened was simply too awful to tell: the truth was, he had lived for a few brief minutes after his buddies pulled him out. Burned beyond any chance of survival and nearly beyond recognition, in almost unimaginable pain, he asked for and was given the little picture of Tina that he kept tucked inside the liner of his helmet. Then, according to those who had been there, he had looked lovingly at her face, cradled the photo to his chest, and died with her name on his lips. With mere moments to live, there were so many things he could have asked for, but he hadn’t; he had not screamed for morphine, had not cried out for his mother, or anything else. All he wanted was to look at his beloved wife one last time.

Was she sincere and worthy to be taken at her word? His brother thought so, and that was good enough for Brad. More than good enough.

Brad picked up the little plastic card and turned it over and over in his hands. What about tonight? She had taken a huge risk, baring her heart as she had, and she had suffered for it. She was suffering right now, ten floors above where he now sat. She had reopened a wound in herself that had barely started to heal, and she had done so because she felt it was what she had to do. Whether what she was asking for was a good thing or not was a matter that could be debated endlessly, but all that mattered right then was that she believed it was important enough to stake her heart. Now she needed comforting, and the question was not if she deserved comfort, but whether Brad Miller deserved to be the one to succor such a strong woman.

No, his mind told him. He did not deserve such a privilege. What she needed, what she deserved, was his brother. But his brother could no longer do so. Not in this life, anyway. Right now, Brad was all she had. He would have to do.

So what are you doing sitting here?

He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin and took a final sip of wine, then headed for the lobby. He stopped at the gift shop for a quick purchase, as she had requested, and rode the elevator to the tenth floor.

He stood outside her door and listened. He could faintly hear the heart-wrenching sound of her softly sobbing inside. It was the mournful sound of someone who had lost their closest and dearest friend, and was being torn emotionally inside-out because of it. With tears beginning to well up in his own eyes, Brad swiped the card in the lock and stepped inside.

She was lying on the bed, still fully dressed except for her shoes. She lay on her side in a piteous fetal position, with both arms wrapped tightly around a pillow. She looked up at the sound of the door opening. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and her ruined mascara made large black circles around her eyes. Her face pleaded for help, but there was the faintest look of hope there also as she looked at him.

“Brad, I miss him so much,” she moaned quietly.

“I know. I miss him, too.” He took the pillow from her grasp, lay on his side, and took her tenderly in his arms. She enfolded herself into him, burying her face in his chest, as the arms that were so much like Tim’s, and yet so different, wrapped around her. She felt something she had not felt in a long time: safe. She had always felt so safe in Tim’s strong arms, and now, for the first time since Tim had died, she felt that way again. She snuggled even deeper into Brad’s embrace. It wasn’t Tim, and a distant part of her brain reminded her it wasn’t. But it was close enough that she could pretend. Unbidden, her mind told her that she could someday feel just as safe in Brad’s arms, without pretending, and she wondered where the thought had come from.

Wrapped in Brad’s arms, her tears began anew. He held her throughout, not saying a word but gently stroking her hair, just as Tim had once done, as her tears soaked his shirt. Slowly, she began to feel better, and eventually her tears stopped flowing. She pushed away from him a few inches, just far enough to look at his face, but she kept his arms safely around her.

“Thank you,” she whispered, giving him a weak smile.

“You’re welcome,” he said, then chuckled. “You know, this is the first time I’ve ever held a doctor.”

“Doctors sometimes need love, too. Just like everyone else.” She kissed him lightly, and giggled a little. “Maybe you should try it sometime. You never know.”

“Uhh, no. I know two doctors: my general practitioner, and my dentist. Both are men. I don’t think I’ll be holding either one of them.”

“Oh. I don’t blame you, then.” They both laughed for a moment, and then Tina turned serious once again.

“Brad, I’m sorry. I told myself all day that I wasn’t going to break down, and I barely even made it through dinner. You just look so much like your brother that tonight when I saw you, it was like Tim was still alive and the last six months have just been nothing but a horrible nightmare. When you met me at the restaurant, I wanted to leap into your arms, shower you with kisses, and tell you how much I loved you. But then my mind reminded me that you’re not Tim, that Tim’s dead, and it felt like it did when they first told me he had died. All through dinner, I had a struggle going on inside me. My heart kept saying, ‘Yay! Tim’s still alive!‘, and my mind had to keep reminding me that, ‘No, he’s not. He’s dead‘. I know that doesn’t make any sense. It doesn’t make any sense to me, either. But I just don’t know how to explain it better than that. It was like having two parts of my body sending me different, contradictory messages at the same time.”

“I understand,” Brad soothed. “It’s okay.”

“You may understand,” Tina shook her head. “But it’s not okay. I was trying to treat you as some sort of doppelganger of your brother, and it wasn’t fair. Not to me, and especially not to you. You may look like Tim, but you’re not him. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. You are your own man, with your own life, your own goals, your own personality, and everything else. It’s not fair for me to try to force you into some kind of mold of Tim. You’re an individual, and you deserve to be treated as one, not just as some sort of copy of your brother. I’m sorry.”

Brad sighed and nodded. “Thank you.”

“I still mean what I said at dinner: if you’re willing, I still want you to father a child with me. You and your brother are separate people, but like I said, your DNA is the same, and that’s what I need. I hate how that sounds, because it sounds cold and maybe even a little creepy. But what I desperately want is a child that looks like Tim and me, and has, hopefully, the best attributes of both of us. I want to have a son or a daughter who I can look in their face and see my handsome and brave husband. More than that, though, I want a child who has Tim’s intelligence, his loving kindness, his bravery, his toughness, his sense of humor. Yes, a lot of those attributes are due to how we’re raised and our life experiences; nurture, not nature. But nature plays a big role, too, and I want my child to have Tim’s nature.

“I want to someday sit my son or daughter down and tell them about Tim. I want to tell them about how much we loved each other, how sweet and kind he was, how brave he was, and how dashing he looked in his uniform. I want them to know his generosity, how he’d give a complete stranger the shirt off his back, what a great sense of humor he had, and tell them how many of his good things I see in them. And someday, when they ask what happened to him, I’m going to sit them down and tell them that he died doing an incredibly brave thing, and that they deserve to be proud of him, just like I am. I know Tim died in a dirty, hundred year-old warehouse that should have been condemned and torn down forty years ago, and he didn’t save anyone that day. I wish that if he had to die, he died doing something heroic, like saving a bunch of kids or something, and if he were here right now, I know he’d say the same thing. But the fact is, he saved a lot of lives during his career, and who knows how many people were spared from death or serious injury because Tim and his buddies were there? That’s what I’m going to tell my child to remember.”

She paused and took a deep breath and went on quietly. “There’s something else I’d like to tell them as well. When they are an adult themselves, I would love to be able to tell them about their father, too. Their biological father, I mean. I would tell them about how Tim died before they were conceived, and how Tim’s twin brother selflessly and generously made it possible for them to be born. I doubt I’ll tell them all of the circumstances of their conception,” she laughed, “but I’ll make sure they know what you did for them. You have my word on that. If you tell me you want left completely out of it, I’ll respect that and I won’t tell them. You have my word on that, too. But I hope you’ll let me tell them.”

“Tina, I don’t know…”

“Shh,” she breathed, covering his lips with hers in a tender kiss. “No more talking. Not tonight. Just take me. Please.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. He cradled her head with one hand, wrapping the other arm around her waist as he kissed her.

He felt the warmth of her body and the softness of her skin as she responded to him. He moved down to her neck, and she gave a shudder as he nuzzled and kissed her neck and throat, before lightly tracing a line of kisses along the line of her lower jaw, deeply inhaling her natural scent. Like most doctors, Tina didn’t wear perfumes and chose only unscented or lightly-scented lotions and creams, but that only allowed her natural scent to come through unfiltered and unadorned. She smelled faintly like strawberries and cream. Like home, Brad thought, smiling.

He moved up her neck and gently nibbled at her earlobe, causing her to shudder again and goose pimples to rise along her arm.

“Oh, yes…” she breathed passionately. “Oh, God, yessss…”

She reached behind herself and gave a small grunt of frustration as her hand flailed at her back. Brad found the zipper at the back of her dress and tugged slowly downward.

“Is this what you’re looking for?” he whispered.

“Yes. Please.”

He slowly pulled the zipper down as far as it would go, then rolled onto his back in response to a nudge against his chest. As he rolled over, she rolled on top of him.

Sitting astride him, she gave him a red hot smile as she slid the dress off her shoulders. There was no bra underneath, and as her gorgeous 34B breasts came into view, Brad was transfixed. Her puffy pink nipples were the color of cotton candy, and stood proud atop her breasts, just begging to be sucked.

“I’m afraid my breasts are not very big.”

“They’re perfect,” he replied. “You have the nicest nipples I think I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you,” she beamed. She leaned forward and kissed him, then moved forward slightly, bringing her right breast to his mouth. He greedily took her nipple into his hot mouth, closing his lips over the hard little mound, causing her to gasp.

“God, yes!” she cried. “Oh, Brad, you have no idea what that does to me. It makes me so wet…”

“I can’t wait to find out,” he grinned up at her. She started to slide her hips forward in response, but his hands quickly stopped her. “Not so fast. There’s still too much else I want to explore first.” Then he turned his head slightly to his right and took her left nipple in his mouth, as she arched her back in ecstasy.

After he released her nipple, she sat up straight on top of him and finished removing her dress, letting him get a look at what was underneath. All she wore were a white lace garter belt across her flat tummy, a pair of blue bikini panties that matched her dress, and a pair of beige sheer-to-toe thigh-high stockings. He noticed that she had put her panties on over her garters for easy removal, and he smiled at that.

Nearly nude herself, she set to work undressing him. Her nimble fingers unbuttoned his shirt with one hand, as she ran her other hand all over his chest.

Once his chest was fully exposed, she bent forward and lavished kisses all over his torso, slowly working her way downward. When she reached his waist, she undid his belt and unbuttoned his pants before working them down his legs. She stood and pulled his pants off his legs, dropping them on the floor, before sitting on the foot of the bed. Once she made herself comfortable, she started working on detaching her garters from her stockings.

“No,” Brad said, surprising her a little. “Leave your stockings on. Please.”

“Alright,” she replied, smiling from ear-to-ear as she climbed onto the bed on all fours.

She took hold of the waistband of his underwear with her teeth and tugged downward until his hard cock popped free as if it was spring loaded. She looked at it admiringly: six inches and nearly as thick as her wrist. It was so much like Tim’s, in so many ways. There was one striking difference, however: every square inch of Brad’s crotch was fully shaved, while with Tim, she was doing good if she managed to convince him to let her just give him a trim. She was excited to see Brad’s hairless skin. She loved sucking cocks — especially Tim’s — but she hated getting hair in her mouth. With Brad, it wasn’t going to be a problem.

She licked the entire length of his cock and kissed all over it, shamelessly fondling it against her soft cheeks like a just-discovered treasure that she had feared was lost forever. Brad was clearly enjoying himself, judging by the huge grin on his face, as he played with her blonde hair.

“Oh, yeah, babe. Suck my cock.”

A drop of pre-cum had leaked out of the tip, and she wrapped her lips over it, using her tongue in a swirling motion like eating an ice cream cone. Then she slid her mouth down over his cock, taking the whole thing to the back of her throat.

She sucked him hungrily for a couple of minutes, until his breathing changed, suggesting he was close. That created a dilemma for her: she was more than willing to have him cum down her throat, while she swallowed every delicious drop, but she worried that if she did so, then he wouldn’t be able to fuck. But if she didn’t suck him off, he wasn’t going to last a minute in her tight pussy, even with a condom on. What to do? The question was answered for her as he slipped his hands under her shoulders and nudged upward.

“Turn over on your back,” he groaned. “I’m dying to taste your pussy.”

“Yes, sir,” she smiled. There weren’t many things in life that she enjoyed more than sucking a big cock, but having her pussy eaten was one of them. She flipped over and spread her legs, then almost as an afterthought, grabbed a pillow and slid it under her ass, causing her hips to rotate upward.

Brad made a line down the center of her torso with his tongue, then hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her panties, drawing them down her stocking-covered legs. Her panties were so wet that the crotch clung to her pussy as he pulled them down. When he got to her ankles, she lifted her feet off the bed to allow him to remove her underwear off of them.

He began licking and kissing her ankles. Tim had often done the same, before licking and kissing all the way up her leg until he got to her pussy. By the time he got there, she was practically writhing in anticipation. Tim had been a leg man who loved her legs in stockings, and when Brad asked her to leave her stockings on, she knew he was as well. Nothing wrong with that. She knew, both as a woman and a doctor, something of how sensual her legs could be, but until she met Tim, she’d never fully appreciated just how sensual they were under the ministrations of an expert. The brothers had something else in common as well, she thought: Tim was a leg man, but he absolutely despised feet and during sex more or less he pretended they didn’t exist. Judging from the fact that Brad had chosen to start with her ankles and move up from there, he obviously hated feet, too. But she was about to get a big surprise.

Brad moved from her ankle to her stockinged foot, massaging the sole and arch with his thumbs while he kissed along the ridge of her instep. When he reached her toes and gently nibbled on them, she had to grab another pillow and hold it over her face to muffle her squeals of delight. Back in her undergraduate days before medical school, she had had one lover who had known and appreciated the benefits of pleasuring a woman’s feet, but he was the only one who ever had. Now, obviously, she had just met another.

“Ohh, dear God in Heaven,” she whimpered, her eyes rolling back in her head as Brad nibbled and sucked her toes, both individually and as a group. Each time he did, it felt like little jolts of pleasure rushed up her leg, heading straight for her pussy.

With her bare shaved pussy on open display, she rubbed it in long, lurid circles with one hand, while playing with her nipples with the other. God she was so wet, and her clit was so hard! She plunged one and then two fingers up inside herself, each making a wet squelching sound as she jammed them in and out. Her fingers were a poor substitute for Brad’s hard cock, but they were better than nothing.

Brad eventually left her foot and moved up her leg, licking all along the inside of it. When he got above her knee, she stopped fingering herself and instead simply spread herself for him, giving him a peek at her inner depths. It’s yours, was the message she was trying to send from her mind to his. Come and take it.

He lay between her legs and explored her pussy with his tongue, tracing her labia both inside and out, licking her inner thighs, and darting his tongue in and out of her vagina. Oddly enough, the one part of her genitals he had little to no interest in, it seemed, was her clit. Occasionally he would flick at it with his tongue just to remind her that he knew it was there and that he hadn’t forgotten about it, but just as quickly as he would pay attention to her clit, he would go off to explore something else.

He slid two fingers inside her and massaged the inner walls of her vagina. Once he had them good and coated, he slid them out of her and licked his fingers deliciously. “Mm, that’s a tasty pussy,” he told her. “Would you like some?”

“Yesss,” she growled. “Give it to me.”

He scooped out more of her juices with his fingers and brought them to her mouth. She snapped at them with her mouth, and smacked her lips around his fingers.

God, what is he doing to me! her mind screamed. She had masturbated often enough, and at times she had even licked her own juices off her fingers. But not very often. The simple fact was that she didn’t care for the taste. But now he was feeding her own juices to her and she couldn’t get enough! And what was he doing with her clit? Why was he ignoring it? Tim, like most men, would go straight for her clit when he ate her, nearly to the exclusion of everything else. But not Brad. He didn’t seem to care about her clit at all. Why the hell not?! Is he that clueless? Doesn’t he know how important the clit is? Doesn’t he know how much I want him to pay attention to it, how desperate I am for him to lick it?

Suddenly it all made sense to her: he knew exactly how desperate she was. He wanted her to beg. Well, if that’s what it took…

“Please,” she moaned. “Please…”

“Please?” he asked innocently. “Please what?”

“Please suck my clit. Please. I’ll do anything. Just please suck my clit.”

He moved with excruciating slowness, but she could feel his hot breath on her swollen button. She would have loved to have had a mirror so that she could see it; she imagined her poor, neglected clit was huge right then!

He gently took her pleasure button into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue. She drew in a huge lungful of air, making a loud hiss as she arched her back involuntarily, thrusting her pussy into the air. It wasn’t an orgasm, exactly. If it was, she had never had an orgasm quite that strong. Oh, dear God!

Her body relaxed, slowly lowering herself back down onto the pillow under her hips, as Brad continued to lick and stroke her neglected clitoris. She was beside herself with pleasure. Several times she opened her mouth to tell him what a great job he was doing, but all that came out was a string of unintelligible moans and whimpers. Tim was okay at cunnilingus; not bad, but nothing spectacular, either. Brad, on the other hand, was a fucking artist! No one in her entire life had ever given her such intense pleasure. Not even close.

He worked on her clit for a while longer before, apparently, reaching his own limit. He rose from between her legs and returned to where he had started, kissing her neck and nibbling her ears.

“Tina,” he breathed. “I’ve got to fuck you. I have to have you.”

“Yes,” she cried, her voice full of need. “Please. I’m yours. Take me. Please tell me you bought condoms…”

“Front pants pocket,” he breathed.

She practically leapt from the bed, and seized his pants off the floor. She had never needed a man inside her as much as she needed Brad. She wasn’t sure she had ever needed anything in her entire life as much as she needed him right now.

She found the box of condoms, tore it open, and pulled one out. Brad turned over on his back, with his hard cock pointing straight at the ceiling. She got on the bed, opened the little foil package, and rolled the condom onto him. As soon as it was in place, she threw one leg over him and started to mount him. He, however, had other ideas.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down until their chests were touching, then rolled her over on her back, with her hips on the pillow. She spread her legs wide as Brad climbed on top of her. He kissed her deeply, their tongues intertwining as they explored each other’s mouths.

“Are you ready?” he asked her in a husky voice.

“Oh, God, yes,” she moaned. “I’ve never been so ready. Do it, baby.”

He lowered his hips onto hers, and she reached down between their bodies to guide him into her. He thrust forward a little, penetrating her, and she lifted her feet off the bed, welcoming him into her body.

She gasped pleasurably and loosely draped her arms behind his neck, gazing deeply into his eyes as he steadily slid all six inches into her. It was amazing how much his cock felt like Tim’s.

She expected he was simply going to fuck her, and hard, but he didn’t. Instead, he glided luxuriously in and out of her, holding her tight, as his eyes never left hers. As much as she wanted to be fucked, what she wanted and needed even more was to make love, but she knew that was a futile, empty dream. Yet whether Brad had wanted the same thing or he had sensed her need, that’s exactly what was happening: he was making love to her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to him, unwilling to let him go even for a second. His cock felt so amazing inside of her. Oh, God, could this evening possibly get any better?

Their bodies rocked together in unison as he lavishly made love to her. With each thrust into her, she slid her hips forward. This was an unexpected treat. As she flew into town earlier that day, she expected they would probably fuck before the brief overnight visit was through. She did not expect — did not dare hope — that he would make love to her.

She felt her orgasm getting closer as her clit rubbed against his pubic bone, pinned as it was between their bodies. He was completely in control of her body, she knew. He had proven that with the unbelievably fantastic job he did in eating her. Her body, her mind, her pleasure was clay in the hands of a true master, and a benevolent one. He was using her body for his pleasure, but for hers as well, and she sensed that her pleasure was in no way less important to him than his own. And like a master artist, he was wasting nothing: her mind, her mouth, her breasts, her pussy, her legs, even her feet. He was using it all to create for her a sexual experience like none she had ever known.

“Oh, Brad…” she cooed, lightly stroking his face with her hand.

“Don’t you mean ‘Oh, Tim’?” he grinned down at her.

She looked at him with her warmest, most loving smile, the one that up until six months ago, she had reserved for Tim alone, and had not given to anyone else since.

“No,” she said softly.

“I’m getting close,” he warned.

She squeezed him tightly with her arms as if she was trying to physically merge their bodies together, and dug her heels into his buttocks. “I’m already there,” she whispered hotly in his ear. “I’m just waiting for you, lover.”

His breathing changed and his pace did, too, becoming slower but deeper and more forceful as she cheered him on. “Give it to me deep. Oh, it feels so good, baby…”

“Tina, I want to fuck you all night long,” he groaned.

“Sounds good to me,” she cooed. “I don’t have any plans, and I can’t think of anything I’d rather do. Next round, you can fuck me in the ass if you like.”

That did it. Brad had never done anal before, though like a lot of men, it was a long-held fantasy of his. He drove into her one final time and froze as he felt his cock spasm inside of her. As his orgasm began, she mentally gave herself permission to cum as well.

She arched her back into him, impaling herself deeper on his cock as he pushed as deep as possible into her at the same time. She could feel his cock spasming inside her, as his cock filled his condom with hot cum. Once, twice, three times he squirted inside of her, and a part of her felt deprived because of the condom he wore. She wanted him to make her pregnant, that was true, but that wasn’t the reason she wished he was filling her pussy with his cum. After all, it was entirely the wrong time of the month; it would be nearly impossible for her to get pregnant this night, even if he agreed to do so. No, that night she wanted his cum for a different reason: except for Tim, she had never felt so close to any man as what she felt in that moment about Brad, and she wanted him to “mark” her as his own. She wasn’t his, of course. She was sure that he didn’t want her, and truth be told, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted him, either. Not in the long-term, anyway. But at least for this night, there was nothing she wanted more than to be his, and for him to claim her as his own.

They both relaxed as their orgasms subsided, and he remained on top of her for a good fifteen minutes or more. He was in no hurry to dismount her, and she was certainly in no hurry for him to do so, either. She had felt so alone and unwanted since Tim had died. Now, for a few hours at least, she wasn’t alone, and she was wanted. Even better, she was wanted by a man who had just proved himself to be an incredible lover. If he wanted to stay on top of her all night, that was more than okay with her. Eventually, though, he did roll off of her, though to her delighted surprise, he continued to hold her and kept her nestled right beside him.

“That was fun,” he breathed.

“‘Fun’ doesn’t begin to describe it,” she purred. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had sex like that in my entire life. I know you probably think I’m just saying that, but I’m not. It’s the truth, I swear. Especially when you ate my pussy. I’d ask how you learned that, but I’m not sure I want to know.”

“It’s nothing bad,” he chuckled, but didn’t elaborate. “By the way, I just have to tell you, you have very sexy legs. I’m sure Tim told you that all the time, and he was right.”

“Well, thank you,” she beamed. “And yes, Tim liked my legs very much. My feet not so much, but he did like my legs.”

“Huh?”

She looked at him, surprised. “Surely you knew Tim was a leg man. But his fondness for the female leg ended at the ankle.” She rolled her eyes. “He gave me such a hard time about my feet, telling me how much he didn’t like them, that it’s a wonder I ever took my shoes off. You obviously don’t have that silly hang-up, I’m happy to say.”

“I knew Tim was a leg man. I didn’t know about the rest of it. We may have been twins, but honestly, I think you’ll find we weren’t all that much alike. Dad used to say I was like a knife or a scalpel, and Tim was a battering ram,” he laughed.

“Really? In what way?”

“You know what Tim’s philosophy was: there wasn’t a problem anywhere in the world that couldn’t be solved with a big enough hammer. You couldn’t find a nicer, kinder person than my brother, and he wouldn’t hurt a fly. But his approach to any problem, no matter what it was, was brute force, either physically or figuratively. I know I’m not telling you anything you don’t know. He was a sweet guy, but I don’t think Tim even knew the meaning of words like ‘tact’ or ‘diplomacy’. He didn’t just step on people’s toes; he rolled over them with a steamroller! What was sad, most of the time he didn’t even know he was doing it. Tim had pretty thick skin, and I think he forgot that other people don’t necessarily have the same thick skin he did.

“Me, on the other hand, I’m more judicious in my approach to things. Yeah, there are some times when the only thing that will solve a problem is a twenty-pound sledgehammer. Take firefighting, for instance: if your house is on fire and you and your kids are trapped inside, you want a big bruiser like Tim, who’ll make his own entryway, thank you very much, toss one kid over one shoulder, another kid over the other, and grab you by the waistband of your jeans and carry you out of there like a 12-pack of beer. At the same time, there are a lot of times when you get better results by being tactful and approaching a problem more, dare I say, intelligently.”

“Sort of like a carrot and stick approach: you’re the carrot, and he was the stick,” Tina nodded, listening.

“Exactly. Let me use an illustration I remember our Dad using one time when we were growing up. Let’s say you’ve got a room with a locked, sturdy door. There’s a million dollars inside and it’s yours. All you have to do is unlock the door and get it. The problem is, there’s no key.

“First thing Tim’s going to do is get a sledgehammer, and turn the door into kindling. If that doesn’t work, he’ll knock a hole in the wall and get in that way. Tim’s solution is quick, it’s guaranteed to work, but then you’ve got a destroyed door or a big hole in the wall. Knowing Tim, probably both. Me, I’m going to call a locksmith, or try to take the door off the hinges somehow, or try to find another way inside. I’m only going to get the sledgehammer after everything else has failed.” By the time he finished the story, Tina was laughing softly.

“You nailed him to a tee!” she laughed. “Sweet, kind to a fault, loveable as a giant teddy bear, but with skin as thick as a banana peel, and his approach to things could be somewhat over the top. It reminds me of a couple of years ago. We were entertaining a neighborhood couple, and in conversation, Tim describes himself as a ‘take the bull by the horns’ type of guy. The neighbor laughs and says that Tim wouldn’t just take the bull by the horns, he’d probably punch the poor thing in the nose and toss it on the barbecue grill for dinner!” Tina and Brad both had a good laugh.

“Tim was a smart guy. I mean really smart. A lot smarter than people gave him credit for. But he did tend toward the extreme. He didn’t believe in half measures; it was all or nothing.” She heaved a heavy sigh. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s what got him killed. I can’t help but wonder if maybe they pulled the plug and signaled a retreat, and maybe Tim was just too goddamn stubborn to go. In twelve years together, I never saw Tim get in a fight with anyone, but I also know he wasn’t the sort to back down from a fight, either. I can picture him refusing to back down from a fight with that fire and losing his life as a result.”

The conversation moved on to other topics. Tina removed her stockings and garter belt, and both stayed nude for the rest of the evening. After an hour or so, they decided they were both a little hungry, so Tina ordered some snacks from room service while Brad went to the bathroom. There were robes for the both of them, but when the room service was delivered, Tina chose to hide in the bathroom.

“Is he gone?” she asked, opening the door a half inch and peeking out.

“No,” Brad grinned. “I told him you’d be out soon, so I invited him to have a seat and wait for you.”

“Ha, very funny.” She opened the door and strode out, naked as the day she was born. She pretended to look all around the room. “So, where is he?” she asked, feigning disappointment.

They made themselves comfortable on the bed. She had ordered a plate of stuffed mushrooms, and a tray of various fruits, along with a bowl of chocolate for dipping. The food tasted good after what they had done barely an hour ago.

“You know,” she snickered, “when Tim and I stayed in hotels for whatever reason, we ordered room service a lot. Difference was, Tim was the one who hid in the bathroom, while I let the guy in and signed for the tray. Except I usually didn’t bother with a robe.”

“Oh, really?” Brad grinned. “So, why didn’t you do it this time?”

“You,” she answered simply, giving him a flirtatious smile. “I was afraid it would bother you, and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“Wouldn’t have bothered me any. I’m a little surprised that Tim never said anything, though.”

“Are you kidding?” she snorted. “He encouraged me to. It was a big turn-on for us both. Only thing was, Tim had to hide in the bathroom. If he was standing or sitting there, the room service guy was always on his very best behavior for fear that Tim would knock his block off. With Tim supposedly in the shower, they were more willing to let their eyes roam a little.”

“Did you ever have a problem with anyone?”

“Once or twice. We had a prearranged code phrase: if anything got out of hand, all I had to do was ask Tim if my perfume was in the bathroom. If he heard that, he knew I wanted him to just simply walk out of the bathroom and say ‘hi’ to the nice young man. And that’s exactly what he’d do: come out, say a friendly hello, and shake his hand. It tended to have a very calming effect,” she giggled.

“So, how did you define what ‘getting out of hand’ meant?”

“They could look all they liked, and even get a feel, as long as they weren’t too blatant about it. A very light brush of my ass or breasts, I’d ignore and pretend it was an accident. Anything more than that, no. That’s where the limit was.”

“Well, you are a very beautiful woman,” Brad smiled. “You definitely made some young man’s day every time you did that, and probably his week, month, and year, too. I hope my brother knew how lucky he was to have you. Me, I know I’m using up a whole lifetime’s worth of good luck, just to be here with you right now. But you know what? Even at that, I’m getting a great deal.”

“Aww,” she blushed. “You’re sweet.” She leaned across the tray and kissed him on the lips.

They went back to eating. He watched as she ate a few grapes, a strawberry, and a chunk of pineapple. In each and every case, the fruit went nowhere near the little bowl of chocolate on its way to her mouth.

“Don’t you like the chocolate?” he asked.

“I like it just fine,” she smiled. “I’m just very selective about what I put chocolate on. Besides, what’s in that bowl right there isn’t chocolate. It’s finger paint.”

“Is that right?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded playfully. “Why not you move the tray over out of the way, and I’ll prove it.”

He eagerly carried the room service tray to a corner and set it down, then hurried back to the bed. She instructed him to lie flat on his back.

She dipped the tip of her finger in the chocolate and covered his nipples, then immediately licked it off. She did the same thing on various parts of his torso and neck, making swipes here and there with her fingers, and then torturously cleaning up the mess with her tongue. After she did it several times, Brad announced that it was his turn, and told her to lie on her back.

“I took Anatomy as a Science elective back in high school,” he said. “Of course, that was a long time ago, and unlike you, I really haven’t had a whole lot of opportunity to use what I learned. Sometimes I wonder how much of it I recall, so how about we play a little game and see how much I remember?”

“Hmm,” she smiled. “Sounds like fun.”

He used his finger to spread a horizontal line of chocolate just below her shoulders. “We’ll start with an easy one. This is called the, um, collarbone, right?” She nodded. “Also known as the…”

“Clavi — oh!” As she started to answer, he slowly dragged his tongue along the line, causing goose bumps to pop up all over the area. “The, um…clavicle.”

“Very good, Doctor!” he praised her. “But you seemed to have a little problem recalling the proper name. Is everything alright?” He made another slow pass across her body, stimulating the sensitive nerves in the area.

“F-fine,” she stammered. “Just feeling a little, uh, bit distracted right now.”

“Nothing serious, I hope?” he feigned concern. “Because we have a long way to go in this game.”

“Could be…” She groaned pleasurably as he smeared chocolate on first one nipple and then the other and licked it off. As soon as the chocolate was cleared off, her nipples stood at erect attention. “Could be serious.”

He slowly moved down her body, doing the same thing to her breastbone, several ribs, her navel, and pointing out various landmarks on her nude torso, such as her liver, lungs, and appendix, marking each one with the warm chocolate, before cleaning it off with his tongue. When he got to her waist, he paused and asked for a progress report.

“So, how am I doing so far, Doc?” he grinned.

“Extremely well,” she said, shuddering involuntarily as his fingers stimulated an especially sensitive area. “You haven’t missed one yet.” He encircled her navel with his tongue, just barely touching it to her skin.

“I…I must say, your knowledge of the human nervous system is breathtaking.” As if to prove her point, he probed her navel with the tip of his tongue, causing her to gasp loudly.

“Thank you. Now we get to my favorite part of the body.” He moved down over her crotch, letting her feel the heat from his hot breath on her vulva, barely an inch away. But when he kept on going without so much as a pause, she whined. He moved to her ankle, and started up from there.

“Let’s see…tibia, fibula, knee, patella, femur…” She was practically beside herself as he moved up her leg. His knowledge of the nervous system was encyclopedic. Nerve junctures and pressure points that she would have had to look and possibly search for, he found instantly and with unerring precision. And once he found them, he seemed to know exactly how to exploit each and every one to maximum effect.

“Now, I can recall our teacher saying that the inner thigh is extremely sensitive, particularly for women. But just between you and me, I don’t think she knew what she was talking about. If she was right, then if I did something like this…” He nibbled on one particular spot on her inner thigh, a few inches from her pussy. Her gasp was nearly a scream as her body nearly lifted off the bed. “…you’d practically jump out of your skin. Now, I ask you: isn’t that the silliest thing you ever heard?”

“Sh-shocking.” Her brain screamed for information. Who or what was this man? It was as though he had a roadmap of every single one of her erogenous zones. Oh, God, what an incredibly skilled lover this man was turning out to be!

“Now, I would like to ask a favor of you.”

“Anything,” she breathed.

“I want you to masturbate, while I watch. I want you to show me how you pleasure yourself so that I will know how best to pleasure you. Will you do that for me?”

She nodded, dazed. As recently as fifteen minutes earlier, she might have said no to a request like that. Masturbation was such a private thing for her, as it is for most people. But now, she was more than willing to give him anything he wanted.

She stroked her inner thighs and traced the outline of her labia her finger, then spread herself open to give him a view of the inside of her vulva. She played lightly with her clit, alternating between rubbing it alone and rubbing the entire area with the flat palm of her hand. Then she slipped first one and then two fingers into her vagina, fingering herself almost casually at first, but eventually slamming her fingers in and out of her swollen pussy. During the whole masturbation session, she kept up a running narration, telling him exactly how she liked to be played with.

“Now I have a favor to ask you,” she said throatily, as she lightly played with herself.

“And what might that be?”

“I want you to fuck me like a bitch, like I’m a whore you picked up at a sleazy bar,” she growled. “Fuck me hard til I scream, slap me with your cock, choke me, or shove that thick piece of meat up my ass. Fuck me until I can’t walk straight. Dominate me. Do whatever you want to me. Just make it rough, and treat me like a slut.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied enthusiastically, with a wicked grin.

He told her to go down on him, which she did at once. As soon as he was hard, he ordered her into a sitting position on the floor, with her back against the bed. He stood in front of her and ordered her to open her mouth.

“Don’t you even think about closing it until I give you permission,” he snarled. “You understand me?”

She mumbled her assent, and he slapped her cheeks loudly on both sides with his hard cock several times. Then he thrust his cock into her open mouth and brutally fucked her face until she gagged. Once she did, he stopped and told her to close her mouth.

“So, Doctor Miller,” he said in a mocking tone. “What sort of doctor are you? What’s your specialty?”

“I-Internal Medicine,” she stammered. “I’m a Pulmonologist.”

He slapped her with his hard cock a couple more times. “That’s not what I heard. I think you’re lying to me.” He grabbed a large handful of her blonde hair and pulled, tilting her head upward to face him. “Are you lying to me, Doctor?”

“Wh-what have you heard?”

“I’ve heard you’re a sex therapist, that you spend almost all your time on all fours, with your ass in the air, letting your patients ram their cocks down your throat, or in your tight little pussy, or up your ass. I’ve heard you sometimes treat two or three patients at the same time, one in each hole. I even heard you’ve treated up to six patients at one time: one in your mouth, one in your pussy, one in your ass, while giving a handjob to two of them, and a footjob to the sixth. So is that true?”

“It’s true,” she admitted, playing along. “It says ‘Internal Medicine – Pulmonology’ on my lab coat and on my door, but the ‘Internal’ only refers to the internal cumshots my patients give me.”

“Oh, so your patients cum inside you, is that right?”

“S-sometimes. If their insurance covers the procedure. I let them stick their big dicks up my ass and pound me until they cum. Sometimes if I’m really horny, I’ll let them cum in my ass, whether their insurance covers it or not.”

“So you like getting fucked in the ass, eh?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.” He gave the handful of hair he held a sharp jerk.

“I like getting fucked in the ass.”

“Like it or love it?”

“I love it. I love getting fucked in the ass.”

“I can’t hear you.”

“I love getting fucked in the ass!”

“Louder!”

“I LOVE GETTING FUCKED IN THE ASS!”

“So what if I wanted to fuck you there? I have insurance, but I’m pretty sure it doesn’t cover ass fucking my doctor.”

“I’d consider it a privilege. I won’t submit it to your insurance.”

“I think I’ll have some of that sexy ass, then. But there’s another procedure I need done also, and you’re going to do it. You know what that is?”

“No.”

“You’re going to give me a footjob. I’ve never had one, but you have incredibly sexy feet, Doctor. But I’m sure you hear that all the time, don’t you?”

“Thank you,” she blushed. “But no, I don’t hear it all the time. Just the opposite: my husband hated my feet. He thought they were ugly, and stinky, and disgusting.”

“He said that to you?”

“Not in so many words. But that’s how he treated them. If I came home from work and asked him to massage them for me, you’d think I had just asked him to cut off his leg and beat himself half to death with it.”

“Well, your husband may have been my twin brother, and I loved him as such, but at least on this one point, he was a fucking idiot.”

“Thank you,” she giggled, grinning from ear-to-ear.

Brad released her hair and made himself comfortable on the bed, seating himself with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. Tina dug in her toiletries bag until she found a tube of lubricant, and retrieved a fresh condom out of the little box on her way back to the bed.

She sat on the bed tailor-style, and squeezed a large dollop of lube onto the palm of her left hand to warm it. Then she used both hands to thoroughly coat his cock and balls, before doing the same to her feet, taking care to lube between her toes and especially the soles. Her feet were completely free of calluses or dry, rough skin of any sort, but for a job like this she wanted them to be extra soft. When she was done, she sat back to beside his knees, reclining back and propping her torso up with her elbows.

“Please excuse me if I’m not very good at this,” she said with an embarrassed little smile, coming out of character for just a brief moment. “I’m more than happy to do it, and I’m delighted you asked. But with Tim’s views on the subject, I’m more than a little rusty. The last time I gave anyone a footjob was long ago enough that I don’t remember when the last time was.” Having given her disclaimer, she was back in character instantly.

She pinned his cock between her soles and stroked him up and down a few times, then gently caressed all over his cock with one foot while she used the toes of the other one to play with his balls. She continued in that fashion for a while: use both feet to stroke him a few times, then use one foot on his cock and the other on his balls.

“So, Mr. Miller,” she said clinically, using her best “doctor” voice. “How long has it been since your last footjob?”

“A while,” he admitted. “Close to a year, I expect.”

She gave him the same disapproving look that she would give a patient who admitted to not eating right and never exercising. “Regular footjobs are an important part of your sexual health. And if I may be blunt, not having one on a semi-regular basis is a very selfish thing to do.”

“How so?”

“You are depriving some poor woman of a sexual thrill of her own. I’ve barely been doing this a minute, I expect, and look at the effect it’s having on me already.” She spread her legs as far apart as she could, giving him a good look at her pussy. It was so wet that her juices were beginning to coat her asshole as well. After giving him a second to look, she closed her legs so her feet could continue their work.

“Please tell me that you have not been denying your girlfriend the opportunity to get this turned on.”

“I’m sort of between girlfriends right now, I’m afraid,” he laughed humorlessly. “But I have to say, you are very good at this. Tim didn’t know what he was missing.”

“Well, thank you,” she beamed. “Just be careful not to enjoy it too much. You’re scheduled for either a pussy or an ass fuck immediately after this, remember. I have to get a cum sample from you. If you fuck my pussy, you can deposit the sample in the condom. If you’d rather have my ass, you can use a condom, or if you prefer, you can just shoot it up inside me. As much as I’d enjoy having you cum on my feet, that would force me to use option three. I don’t think you want option three.”

“What is option three?”

“Option three is milking the prostate.” She went on to explain exactly what that entailed.

“You’re right,” he swallowed hard. “I don’t want option three.”

She switched techniques, using just one foot to stroke his cock by using her first and second toe. She left the other foot dangling enticingly in midair and hoped he would get the hint. He did.

He took hold of her dangling foot with both hands and brought it to his mouth. He nibbled and sucked her big toe and circled it with his tongue, then spread her toes apart so he could suck each individually. With each one, she got more and more turned on, to the point that when he finished number four and started to move to number five, she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Okay.” She sighed loudly and pulled her feet back, tucking them under herself for safekeeping. “It’s time to fuck Dr. Miller in the ass before she discovers that she actually can cum simply from having her toes sucked,” she giggled breathlessly.

Brad reached for the wrapped condom on the bed. Tina softly touched the back of his hand before he could retrieve it.

“It’s up to you,” she said quietly, “and if you want to put it on, I completely understand. But I’d prefer if you didn’t. I like anal, but I like it even better bareback. And I love anal cream pies. Please?”

He thought it over for a second, then pulled his hand away empty. She gave him a beaming smile and kissed him deeply.

She retrieved the lubricant and recoated his cock with the slippery substance. Then she got on all fours, reached back with one hand and spread her ass cheeks, and plunged her lubed fingers into her asshole, coating the inside of it.

Brad shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Tina, I have a confession to make. I, uh, I’ve never done anal. Ever. Even women who do anal, they take one look at how thick my cock is and anal’s off the menu, so to speak. I, um, am afraid I’m not going to be able to last very long, if you know what I mean. I don’t want to disappoint you, but that’s probably what’s going to happen.”

“It’s okay,” she cooed. “I understand. Besides, I’m so close myself that I may cum before you do! But whatever happens, it’s okay. I’m not going to be upset.” She smiled at him again and kissed him.

She positioned herself on all fours and laid her head on a pillow, with her ass high in the air, then turned her head to the side. Brad got on his knees behind her, with his hand on her butt cheek.

“You ready?”

“More than ready. Do it to me, babe.” She reached back with both hands and spread her ass cheeks as far apart as she could, and her little pink asshole winked at him.

He placed the tip of his cock against her butthole and wrapped his hand around the base of the shaft to steady it. She pushed back against him at the same time he pushed forward. After a couple of seconds, he watched her ass open, swallow the head of his cock, and close back around it. She gasped sharply, but then immediately giggled.

“Welcome to my ass, baby,” she breathed.

Fuck she was tight! He eased forward, slipping more and more of his cock into her backside, and watched as it disappeared inside her. Most amazing of all, he thought, was that she didn’t utter a word of protest or give a single hint of discomfort or pain. In a moment, he was buried in her ass to the hilt, and his balls touched her ass cheeks.

“All the way in?” she asked happily.

“All six inches,” he confirmed. “You feel okay?”

“Mm, fantastic,” she said, savoring each syllable. “I feel so amazingly full. It feels like my clit’s getting squeezed against my pubic bone, from the inside.”

“Feels good for me, too. Your ass is red hot inside, and it’s so fucking tight.”

“Go ahead and fuck me, whenever you’re ready,” she said. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to hurt me.”

Brad fucked her tentatively at first, drawing back just an inch or so, before sliding back inside. When he saw that she wasn’t screaming bloody murder, it increased his confidence with every stroke. Soon he was pulling out of her almost completely and then plunging back in hard, and she simply cried for more.

After thirty seconds or so, she groaned deeply and long. “Fuck, I’m cumming!” she announced.

Her already tight ass got tighter still as her hands balled into tight little fists. She turned her face into the pillow and screamed into it as she pounded the bed with her hands like a child throwing a tantrum. Behind Brad, her feet flew up and dug into his ass cheeks, pulling him deeper inside her backdoor.

“Fuck!” she cried as her orgasm waned. “What an orgasm!”

She turned her head to the side once more and smiled. “You know what I want you to do? I want you to make me take your cock. Dominate me. I want you to call me filthy names, tell me I’m a slut, tell me you’re going to fuck my ass all night if you want to.”

“Cock-sucking whore,” Brad snarled as he pumped in and out of her. “I can’t believe I paid ten dollars for you. That’s about twice as much as you’re worth. You’re a filthy three-hole slut, aren’t you? Huh? Tell me what you are.”

“Oh, yes! I’m a filthy slut…” she cried.

“You’re a three-hole slut!” he corrected harshly.

“I’m a filthy three-hole slut! I take men’s cocks in my mouth, in my pussy, and in my ass, and I love it!”

Brad bore down on her, reached back, and pulled her legs out from under her, causing her to collapse onto the bed on her belly. He dropped with her, forcing his cock even deeper in her ass.

“Ohh!” she cried out.

“You know what I ought to do? I ought to get on that phone over there and call up a couple of my buddies, tell them to come and fuck your mouth and pussy while I do your ass. What do you think about that?”

“You paid for me. You can do anything you want with me.”

“Yeah. I ought to call them up and tell them to come over. ‘Hey, guys, come over here to Room 1003 and fuck my slut in whatever holes you want.”

“YES!” she cried. “OH, GOD, YES!” She sobbed and Brad was startled to discover that she was crying for real. He was afraid he may have overdone it a little, and decided to back off. But she was having none of it. “Say it again! Tell me I’m YOUR dirty little slut. Tell me that I belong to you! PLEASE!”

Brad was bewildered and said nothing, wondering what Pandora’s Box he had just inadvertently opened. But when he didn’t reply, she started to cry harder, as she had done earlier in the evening.

“You’re MY dirty little fuck slut,” he growled in a low tone, leaning into her and putting his mouth as close to her ear as possible. “You belong to me now. I own you. You remember that when you go home tomorrow. You’re still a doctor, but now you’re my slut first, and a doctor second. That means if I show up at the hospital and tell you I’m there to fuck you, the next words I hear out of your mouth had better be you telling your nurse to hold your patients because you’re going to be busy in Exam Room 3 for the next few minutes.”

“Oh, thank you!” she wept softly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She thrust back against him, deeply impaling her ass on his cock over and over again at a furious pace.

“I’m going to cum,” he groaned. “I’m going to fill your ass with my cum. I’m going to fill you so full that it’s still leaking out when you get home tomorrow, just so you don’t forget who you belong to. Ungh! Hold still.”

Obediently, she stopped at once. She felt his cock spasm a couple of times inside of her, and then she felt his hot cum shoot deep into her rectum. One, two, three times she felt the impact of his load against the walls of her colon as he emptied himself into her. A distant part of her mind was surprised that he came so much, especially after fucking her not quite an hour before, but however much he came, she wanted more.

For his part, Brad felt like his whole body was being turned inside out and shot down his cock into her. He hadn’t cum so much since he was a teenager. He wanted to paint her insides with his seed until it was dripping out of her. Or would drip out of her, eventually; he was pretty deep, he knew.

He collapsed atop her, pinning her to the bed underneath him. But she didn’t move a muscle to get him off of her, and in the quiet stillness of the room, he could hear her breathing and could even hear her rapidly beating heart.

“Mine,” he whispered in her ear.

“Yours,” she acknowledged confidently.

He climbed off of her and lay on his side, facing her. As soon as he was no longer pinning her, she instantly scrambled into his arms, forcing her body as close to his as she could. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer still, and she sighed contentedly.

He held her for a long time, stroking her soft hair, and she purred in his arms. “Tina…” he said after a bit.

“No,” she interrupted quietly. “You don’t have to say anything. I know I acted pretty crazy. Maybe I am going crazy. There’s just so much on my plate right now. I don’t know how to deal with any of it, but I’m doing the best I can. If I get a little weird from time to time, I don’t know what to say, except, ‘I’m sorry’. What I said, what we said to each other…it doesn’t have to mean a thing. Not unless you want it to. Don’t say anything. Just hold me, and just for tonight, let me pretend I do still belong to someone.”

“Okay.”

She tilted her head up for a kiss. “Good night,” she whispered. He kissed her and told her ‘good night’ as well, and she tilted her chin back down toward her chest.

She was asleep in seconds.

The next morning, they awoke in the exact same position they had fallen asleep in, and were awakened by the morning sun streaming through the window, a few minutes before her alarm sounded.

“Good morning,” he smiled at her.

“Good morning to you,” she replied, smiling even more broadly. “Sleep well?”

“Very well. Then again, I always do when I get to sleep with a beautiful woman in my arms. How about you?”

“I think I slept the sleep of the dead,” she yawned.

“How’s your butt feel?”

“Happy,” she purred. “Don’t worry; you didn’t hurt me.”

“Unfortunately, I think you lost most of your cream pie during the night,” he said, nodding at a large wet spot on the sheets.

“Yeah.” She sighed, looking at it, and then perked up. “You could give me a refill,” she suggested hopefully. “I’m afraid it would have to be a quickie, considering what time it is and what time my flight leaves, but say the word and I’ll be happy to turn over.”

“It’s a tempting offer,” he chuckled, “but unless you have a Viagra in your overnight bag over there, I’m going to have to pass. If I was twenty years younger… How about I take a rain check for next time?”

“Next time?” she asked softly. She looked at him and there was real hope in her eyes.

“Yes,” he said confidently. “Tina, I want to see you again. Soon.”

She searched his face. “Brad, please don’t say that if you don’t mean it,” she whispered.

He looked her directly in the eye. “I mean it. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. I don’t care if you fly here or I fly there, or if we fly toward each other and meet somewhere in the middle. I’m in New York and D.C. most of next week on business. You’re welcome to join me, or I’m free any time after next week. Here, I’ll tell you what: when you get home later today, I want you to call me, and I want you to have your calendar open and give me two or three days the week after next that I can come see you. Then I want you to pick your favorite place to stay and make reservations for us. Price is no object. Anywhere you want.”

“Whoa, big spender!” she laughed. “What if I pick the Ritz-Carlton or the Four Seasons?”

“Fine. Don’t worry about it; I do okay financially.” He seemed amused as he said it.

“Alright,” she said with almost-childlike eagerness. Then her smile slowly faded. “I’m glad you’re coming out to my place. If you and I are going to see each other, I think there’s some place we need to go…”

Brad nodded grimly. “Yes. But my brother loved you. I know he would want you to be happy, and if by chance I’m the one who can make you happy, he would want you to be with me. But I understand. Besides, I should visit his grave. I haven’t been there since the funeral.”

“I go almost every week. Sometimes more than once a week. It’s weird, but I feel like I’m close to him there.”

The alarm beeped and Tina rolled over to silence it. She slapped herself on the ass loudly, and spread her cheeks.

“Last chance,” she teased.

“I would if I could,” he said, shaking his head regretfully.

She offered him the first shower, while she ordered breakfast for two from room service. Fifteen minutes later, they traded places. To Brad’s surprise, she finished her shower in only slightly more time than what it took him.

“Wondering why I didn’t take the time to shave my legs and pussy?” she asked, amused, after seeing the question on his face. She lifted her leg and placed her foot on his thigh. He ran his hands up her legs, and they were completely smooth. He looked at her in surprise.

“Lasers,” she said proudly. “I hope you don’t like a little hair on your women. I had everything done from the neck down. Saves me a ton of time, and a small fortune, since I don’t have to buy razors, shave gel, or anything else.”

Room service was delivered, and they ate breakfast while Tina got dressed and did her hair and makeup. Brad commented that she didn’t need any makeup, that she was beautiful just the way she was.

“Do you wear glasses or contacts?” she asked, smiling.

“No, neither. Why?”

“Because I think you need to get your eyes checked!” she giggled.

Brad came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He kissed her tenderly on the neck.

“I can see just fine, thank you,” he said in a low, seductive voice that made her feel weak in the knees. “I know a beautiful woman when I see one, and I know I’m looking at one right now.” As he spoke, he let his hot breath spill onto her tender neck. Her body shuddered involuntarily. She let him kiss and fondle around her neck for a few minutes, getting her wet all over again.

“How long does it take to get to the airport?” she whispered.

“This time of the morning, call it twenty minutes,” he guessed. “Call it thirty, to be on the safe side.”

She glanced over at the clock on the bedside table and worked backwards. Her flight left in ninety minutes, subtract thirty for the drive, fifteen minutes to get to the gate, and who knew how long to get through Security screening. No time even for a quickie. Damn. She whined in frustration.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she sighed. “I just wish I had more time before my flight. I know you said you needed to take a rain check for next time, but I’ll bet I could wake you up.” She ran her tongue sensuously along her lips.

“I’ll bet you could, too! You could always get a later flight, you know,” he said, grinning wolfishly.

“Don’t tempt me. Unfortunately, I have a meeting at noon today at the hospital, and it can’t be rescheduled. I’m going to be cutting it close as it is, by the time my flight lands, I get my car, drive home, get myself off, change clothes, and drive to the hospital. And don’t tell me I can skip getting myself off, because I can’t. Not after flying halfway across the country, thinking the whole way about everything I want you to do to me. The patient I’m meeting with and his wife, they need a doctor with her head screwed on straight, not a hormonal-crazed sexpot who can’t think of anything but how much she wishes she was sitting skewered atop your cock right then.” She looked at him with a half-smirk.

She finished getting ready and stepped into her shoes. She still had to pack, but with nothing besides a small carry-on bag containing her toiletry items, her Kindle, and her clothes from the day before, repacking was quick and easy. Brad suggested he get the car and pull it around front. That sounded like a good idea to her, and by the time she finished getting her things together and checking out, he pulled up to the curb just as she walked out the door. He jumped out, walked around to her side of the car, and opened the door for her.

“Nice car!” she said approvingly. It was a Mercedes, one of the little two-seat Sportster models that look fast even when they’re sitting still. It was midrange; far from being the nicest, flashiest, or fastest horse in Mercedes’ impressive stable, it also wasn’t the horse you used to plow the field, either. Well, not unless you wanted your fields plowed very, very quickly, that is.

“Thanks,” he replied. He pulled away from the curb for what she could immediately tell was going to be a very fast trip.

“I never asked what it is you do for a living.” She realized, to her embarrassment, that they had spent so much time talking about her and Tim that they had hardly talked about Brad at all. She had learned from experience that a good way to initiate a conversation with a man was to ask about his job.

“Oh, I’m a businessman,” he said vaguely, shrugging as if it was no big deal. “Basically, I have two trays on my desk: one marked ‘IN’ and the other marked ‘OUT’. My job is to move things from the ‘IN’ box to the ‘OUT’ box. The hard part is, people keep sticking things in my ‘IN’ box.”

“I know you stuck something in my inbox last night,” she giggled. “Only thing is, I don’t think you could make up your mind: you’d put it in, then pull it back out, and then turn around and put it right back in again! Not that I’m complaining. Oh, believe me, I’m not complaining one bit!”

He laughed. “Basically, that’s what I do: I’m a professional paper shuffler. It hardly compares to an exciting job like being a firefighter or a doctor. But I do okay; I have several other paper shufflers under me, the pay’s good, and best of all, I can take time off pretty much anytime I like. So if you call me up and say, ‘Hey, let’s get together Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday’, I can do it.”

“Oh, that’s fantastic!” she exclaimed. “I wasn’t quite sure how things were going to work out in that regard.”

“What do you mean?”

“I work for the hospital. I have my own little office and office staff, but I don’t have my own practice, so I don’t get to say what days I have off. I get three days off a week, but they’re not necessarily weekend days. I get every other weekend off, but my three days off on the other week float.”

“Well, maybe you’ll have a practice of your own someday.”

“Maybe,” she said unenthusiastically.

“Can I ask you a question?” Brad asked. “What did Tim tell you I do for a living? Maybe he never talked about it, but if he did, I’m curious. My brother and I loved each other, but there were some things we never saw eye to eye on. One of those things was over what I do for a living.”

She stared at her hands in her lap, with an embarrassed grin on her face. “I…don’t think you really want me to answer that.”

“Yeah, I do. I’m not going to get mad. I promise. You and I talked about last night how Tim didn’t know the meaning of ‘tact’, so I know it’s not going to be pretty. I won’t insist that you tell me, but I’d really like to know, just for curiosity’s sake.”

“You sure?” she asked carefully.

“Lay it on me.”

“Alright. Just remember, this is what Tim said. It’s not how I feel. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“He told me one time that you were, quote, ‘a beach bum surfer who’s never done an honest day’s work in his life.’ For what it’s worth, I didn’t believe it then and I certainly don’t believe it now.”

Brad just laughed and shook his head. “That’s just Tim being Tim. I don’t know how many times when we were younger Brad tried to get me to follow him into firefighting. I told him my destiny lay along a different path. He eventually accepted that and quit hassling me, but that didn’t mean he liked it.”

They arrived at the airport. Brad insisted on parking the car and escorting her to the Security checkpoint. When they got there, she looked at him with a pained expression.

“Brad, I don’t want to say goodbye. If I didn’t have to be at the hospital for that 12:00 meeting, I’d get a later flight. I swear I would.”

“I know,” he soothed, stroking her hair. “I don’t want to say goodbye, either. I meant what I said back at the hotel: I want to see you again, and soon. I expect you to call me when you get home so we can pick a date.”

“I will,” she promised. She kissed him deeply and for a long time. Then she turned and walked off toward the security queue. She made it maybe a half-dozen steps, then paused, and walked back to him. “Wait,” she said. “There’s something else I need to talk to you about. I’ve been trying to figure out how to bring this up, but for the life of me, the words just won’t come. But now we’re out of time and I can’t stand the thought of getting on that airplane without talking it over with you.”

“Okay.”

“When Tim died, I sought solace among friends. One of those friends is Dr. John Cooper, in Radiology. John is the same age as I am, and single. He was friends with both Tim and me, and after Tim died, John and I became even closer friends. ‘Special’ friends. You understand?”

“Friends with benefits, you mean.”

“Exactly,” she nodded. “I want to remain friends with John and I plan to do so, but if you ask me to, I will tell him the ‘with benefits’ part of our friendship has to end.”

“Okay, well — ”

“Brad,” she said softly, looking meaningfully in his eyes and gently squeezing his hand. “I want you to ask me to.”

Brad looked at the need in her eyes and understood: don’t ask me to end it if you plan on this being just a ‘fling’ between us, but if you want us to try to have a future together, then please ask. He didn’t have to think about it at all. He clasped his arms around her and looked warmly into her eyes.

“Tina,” he said confidently and gave her a warm smile. “I’d like you to tell your friend that the ‘special’ part of your friendship is over, please.”

She searched his face, her pretty blue eyes looking up at him hopefully. “Are you sure?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more sure of anything in my life,” he whispered, kissing her tenderly. When they broke their kiss, Tina looked happy and relieved.

“I will,” she smiled, looking at him with a face filled with hope and admiration.

They kissed again, much more briefly this time, and she walked off to the checkpoint. Brad stood off to the side while she waited her turn in line. When her turn finally came, she looked his direction, smiled at him, and blew him a kiss. After she cleared into the sterile area and started walking to her gate, he watched her until she was out of sight.

Brad went from the airport to his office downtown and tried to work in order to keep his mind off of her. After forty-five minutes of not getting much done, he gave himself permission to spend the day goofing off. He was the boss, after all, and therefore entitled to goof off now and then, dammit.

He opened a web browser and went to a flight tracking website. He typed in Tina’s flight number, and a moment later a map appeared showing her approximate location, altitude, and speed. He mentally transported himself to the airplane, imagining himself in the seat beside her, holding her hand. Or better yet, lying beside one another. She was flying first class. They could simply lift the armrest, turning their seat pair into a small but comfortable loveseat, get a blanket, and lay side-by-side as the world zipped by below them at nine miles a minute. Maybe they would use the opportunity to quietly and discreetly join or renew their membership in the Mile High Club, but probably not. That wasn’t really the point, was it? No. It had felt so good to hold her the night before and this morning, and to sleep in each other’s arms. That was why he wished he was on that airplane beside her: just to be able to hold her for three more hours.

It was only two days ago, in this very office and seated in this very chair, when Tina had called him. He meant what he had told her at dinner: even though she was now only his brother’s widow and not his wife, he still considered her a part of the family, so he had been happy to hear from her. She had asked when would be a good time for her to fly in and have dinner with him. She had something she wanted to talk to him about, face-to-face, not over the phone, she said. She gave no hint or clue as to what it was about. Whatever it was, though, he knew it was important enough to get her on an airplane and fly three hours to see him, and that made it important to him. He told her he’d be out of town the following week, but anytime in the next four days was good, and her reply was that she’d see him the next day.

Could it have been only two days? No, it hadn’t even been that long. He had met her for dinner at 7:00 the evening before. Now it was what? A few minutes after 10:00 the next morning. Fifteen hours. Less than that, even. Was it possible that his life had actually changed so much in such a small space of time?

Brad had never been very lucky with women. Oh, he had been lucky and highly successful in business. He seemed to have the Midas touch there. But the opposite sex was an entirely different matter. Tim had gotten all of the luck in that arena. The two brothers were identical in nearly every way. True, Tim was somewhat larger and in better shape, but Brad was hardly a slob. He was in excellent shape for a man of forty-one, and in what would be considered very good shape for a man of any age. Yet put the two of them both at a party and women were almost magnetically drawn to Tim before he even opened his mouth. Tim had won Tina, after all, and if he hadn’t died in that fire six months ago, she would still be his.

Brad, on the other hand, the story of his adult life vis-a-vis the opposite sex had been one of heartbreak, and disappointment, of women he had loved who had claimed to love him back, but actually hadn’t, and of promises made and promises broken. He had kept his promises faithfully, but others had not necessarily kept theirs to him.

Brad had long ago accepted the inevitability of someday dying lonely and alone, surrounded by the trappings of success, but with no one to weep over his grave and no children to carry on his legacy. But suddenly, for the first time in a very long time, there was a flicker of hope that he might avoid that fate. Tina didn’t love him, and he didn’t love her. He knew that. The idea of “love at first sight” was a myth. A fantasy. Anything he felt for her right now — and he was feeling a lot for her — was infatuation. Nothing more. Yet there was something different, something unidentifiable with Tina, something he had never felt before in his life, with any woman. It wasn’t love, but could it possibly be a seed of love, something that if properly cared for, nurtured, and fed, could one day grow into love? He didn’t know, but he was willing to try to find out. He hoped Tina was, too.

He opened another browser window and searched for her hospital. Ah, there it was. Beautiful place it was, too; handsomely landscaped, immaculately maintained, with buildings that were designed by architects who clearly considered form to be nearly as important as function.

And there she was: Tina herself! There was a section of the home page that contained rotating images of select staff members. He had mostly ignored it; after all, aside from Tina, who did he know there anyway? But then her picture had caught his attention, and he clicked on her beautiful face. He was redirected to a staff profile page, with a brief bio about her. Though only a few paragraphs, it was glowing, to say the least.

“Wow,” Brad said aloud.

“Wow” was the only word for it: she had done her residency at the world-renowned Mayo Clinic, had either won or been nominated for a number of highly prestigious internship awards during that time, and the bio went on to describe her as a “gifted pulmonologist” and “brilliant researcher”. An Internet search on her name revealed that, in spite of her young age, she had nonetheless already established herself as one of the best in the world in her chosen specialty. One authoritative website hinted remotely that she possibly could one day be a candidate for the Nobel Prize if an initiative of hers to combat tuberculosis bore fruit.

So. Brad sat back from his computer in awe. She was modest, too. If half those accolades were true of him, he expected he would make sure every person he came into contact with knew who he was. Yet she had not so much as hinted at any of it. “Just another doctor, doing the best she can” was how she had described herself earlier at dinner, long before she “popped the question”, so to speak. And she cared deeply. Brad had seen the pain and regret on her face when she told him about the patient she had accidentally killed, and he saw the passion brighten her face as she talked about the family she was meeting with later in the day.

“And you called her a ‘sex therapist’ and a ten-dollar whore,” he said to himself, chuckling darkly. Yes, she had asked him to treat her like that, and it had all been play, for the sake of heightening the sexual experience for both of them. But you still don’t kick Superman in the nuts, even if he asks you to.

He did some more web surfing, played a couple of computer games, and fielded some phone calls as he waited for her call. He periodically refreshed the flight tracking page to check her progress. She finally called at a quarter after twelve. He was a little surprised to hear from her at that time.

“Hey, sweetie, I’m home,” she told him.

“What happened to your noon meeting? I figured you had gone straight to the hospital from the airport.”

“The meeting’s still on. Two hour time difference, remember?” she giggled. “It’s only 10:15 here,”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot. Oops. Have a good flight?”

“It was okay, I guess. I slept almost the whole way. Well, except for when the flight attendants woke me up for breakfast. Remind me next time to borrow a ‘Do Not Disturb’ door hanger from the hotel. The really upsetting thing was, they woke me out of a dream about you.”

“Oh, really? And what were we doing in this dream?” he chuckled.

“It was kind of weird, actually. You and I were on this little tiny island, just the two of us, I didn’t have any clothes on, and we were making love on the beach. I don’t know where we were, but it was gorgeous.”

“Hmm, interesting,” was all he said. “Alright, young lady, no more ‘Gilligan’s Island’ reruns for you before bed.” She giggled in reply.

“I’m sitting here on my living room sofa with my laptop and calendar open, just like I promised. So, when is it you want an appointment for, Mr. Miller?”

As soon as possible, was the first thought that came to mind. “Uh, week after next.”

“Week after next. Well, it looks like I have an opening Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday of that week. Do you want to go ahead and schedule that?”

“Yes, please. I really need your help, Doctor. I’ve got this recurring swelling of my penis.”

“Well, I’m sure we can take care of that. We have a number of effective therapies we can use. My personal favorite is one called DTD. I’ve also had excellent results with ETD and FTD therapies as well. Those acronyms stand for, ‘Dominate the Doctor’, ‘Eat the Doctor’, and ‘Fuck the Doctor’, respectively. Are you familiar with them?”

“Only one brief session. It wasn’t long enough, though. Not nearly long enough.”

“Yes, well, that’s why we have you scheduled for a three-day appointment. Now, Mr. Miller, you do understand that this is a chronic problem, not an acute one, don’t you? These treatments will work, but they must be repeated on a regular basis, since the problem will return.”

“I understand. Is there anything I need to bring with me to the appointment?”

“Yes. You should bring a large box of condoms. Anything else you bring is welcome, but not necessary.”

“How about a 36-count box? And what is ‘anything else’?”

“Yes,” she sighed, “I suppose a 36-count box might be sufficient. You should probably bring a second box that size as well. If airport security gives you a hard time about that many condoms, remind them that it is a three-day trip: 72 hours, 72 condoms.

“And as for what ‘anything else’ is, I mean toys, games, lotions, lingerie, whips, chains, gags. You know, the sort of thing you bring to any doctor appointment.” Finally she couldn’t keep up the charade any longer, and burst out laughing.

“Seriously, Brad, you can bring anything you like. I’m open to pretty much anything. But if you show up empty handed, that’s fine, too.”

“Mm, maybe some lingerie. You know how much I love stockings. But I’ll need your sizes.”

“I’ll email you that information later.” She paused, and then turned serious.

“I’m going to have to go,” she said. “I want to take another shower before work, and then I have to leave for the hospital. I want to review some lab work on my patient and look at his x-rays before the meeting.” Her voice darkened. “It’s, um, not going to be good news. I’m going to buy him as much time as I can, but at 12:00 today I have to sit down with a husband and wife who are about my age and basically tell her that in twelve months or so, she’s going to be a widow.”

“Mm. That’s a hard thing to do,” he agreed quietly. He felt bad for Tina, but at the same time he was thankful he wasn’t the one who would have to tell the family that. Damn. He could again hear the passion and pain in her voice. He remembered her more-than-impressive credentials. He wondered how soon the woman would be a widow if it was anyone other than Tina caring for her husband. It would be less than twelve months, he was certain. He wanted to tell her that, but he didn’t feel it was appropriate just then.

“Yeah. Sometimes I wish… Well, never mind. May I call you later? It’ll be late. Maybe as late as 10:00 or 11:00 your time.” Her voice was grim.

“I’ll be awake,” he promised. And if I’m not, I’ll wake up, he thought but didn’t say. That’s how important you are to me.

She hung up, and Brad finished the rest of the day at the office. After work, he went to the gym, worked out, and played basketball with a couple of friends. It was just before 11:30 when his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s me,” she said. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” he said truthfully. “Are you home?”

“I’m in my office, sitting here with the lights off, wearing my white lab coat.”

“Oh, okay.”

She laughed a little. “No, you don’t understand. I’m wearing my white lab coat. And nothing else.”

“Oh!”

“My meeting went better than I expected it would. The husband and wife both cried, but not as much as I thought they would. They said they love each other and take each day as a gift and live it to its fullest, without assuming there’s going to be another, so when I told them they don’t have a whole lot of tomorrows left, it changes nothing. I was humbled by that. Tim and I tried to be that way. I hope you and I can as well.”

“Me, too,” he said quietly. Neither said anything for a long time, both thinking their own private thoughts.

“I know he’s in the best possible hands, Tina. You’re the best in the world. One of the best, anyway. I was curious about what your hospital looked like, so I went to the website today. Your profile was on the home page. Please don’t think I’m spying on you, because I’m not, but I saw your credentials today online. All I can say is, ‘Wow’.”

“I suppose I couldn’t hide them from you forever,” she whispered sadly. “As much as I wish I could.”

“I don’t understand. Why would you want to hide them at all?”

“Because I want to be just your girlfriend. I want us to do fun things together and care about each other and have lots and lots of really hot sex. That’s all I want. I don’t want to be a superstar. I want you to see me as more than just a doctor. I want you to see me as the woman who cares for you. When you talk to your friends about me, I want you to tell them things like, ‘She can suck the chrome off a trailer hitch’ or, ‘She fucks like there’s no tomorrow’, not, ‘Hey, guess what Tina’s doing today: she’s giving a presentation at Harvard University.’ Please, Brad. I’ve been a woman a lot longer than I’ve been a doctor. There has to be a place in my life where I can hang up the lab coat and the stethoscope and be just plain old Tina Miller. Please let me do that.”