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“Take your top off,” I said, hoarse. “I want to see you. Please.”
She hesitated, just a second. Then she stepped back, crossed her arms, and pulled her scrubs up over her head.
Her bra was plain white cotton, straining. She reached behind her, unhooked it, and let it fall. Her tits spilled out, full and soft and heavier than I’d ever let myself imagine, with big dusky nipples standing up hard in the warm air.
“Well?” she said, chin up, defiant, cheeks burning.
“Jesus, Claire.”
“Is that a good Jesus?”
“It’s the best Jesus.”
She laughed. Then she picked up the oil, poured a little into her palm, and slowly rubbed it over her own breasts while I watched. Squeezing them. Pinching her nipples. Lifting them, letting them fall, shining under the soft lamp.
My cock was jerking on its own. I reached for it. She shook her head.
“No,” she said. “Look. Don’t touch.”
She came closer, right up to the table, and leaned over until her nipples brushed my lips. I opened my mouth and she pulled away, smiling.
“That’s all you get,” she whispered. “This time.”
She put her bra back on, then her top, smoothing it down like nothing had happened. My cock was purple and aching.
“You’re evil,” I told her.
“I’ve waited eleven years. You can wait a week.” She blew me a kiss and walked out.
Ending 13 of 16: The Show. Go back and try a different choice for the full happy ending.