Get In

She saw the doctor and stopped thinking. Romi stood in the doorway and felt it hit her at once, sharp and low, the way it always does when the wrong person smiles first. The doctor leaned against her desk in a white coat that didn’t quite hide the small breasts underneath, skin bare where the collar opened. Tattoos crept out from under the cuff, dark lines across the wrist, a secret drawn on flesh that Romi suddenly wanted under her tongue. The doctor’s fingers drummed once against the wood, long and sure, and Romi imagined those same fingers pushing past her underwear without asking twice. Natural tits rose with a slow breath. Romi’s own nipples tightened against her shirt. She stepped forward. The door clicked shut behind her. The doctor’s eyes dropped to the hem of Romi’s skirt, then lifted again, calm and certain. One eyebrow arched. Romi felt her thighs press together on their own. She didn’t speak. Neither did the doctor. The silence stretched until it hurt in the best way. Then the doctor’s hand lifted, palm up, two fingers crooked in a single, lazy command. Come here.