Rain-Soaked Desire in the Dental Chair

It had been six months since my last dental visit. Like clockwork, every half-year, I book a routine cleaning and checkup to keep my teeth in check.
My cousin, a 27-year-old woman, had recently opened her own dental practice. A few months back, she’d mailed me a sleek business card advertising her services, which I’d stashed in my desk drawer for moments like this.
I fished out the card, tapped her number into my phone, and shot her a text to schedule an appointment. She replied within minutes, setting me up for the next afternoon.
But first, some context…
My cousin, as I mentioned, is 27. She stands around 5’8″, with a warm ivory complexion, deep green eyes, and raven hair that falls in loose waves. She’s a gym regular, and her toned legs are a work of art – her whole physique, honestly, is striking.
Me? I’m 24, with a tawny complexion, dark hazel eyes that catch the light, and short, curly black hair. I’m just shy of 5’6″, but I hold my own.
Anyway…
The next day, I arrived at her office, a modern suite in a bustling plaza. I pressed the buzzer, and she swung the door open.
She was in a fitted charcoal scrub top, the fabric hugging her curves. My eyes lingered on her silhouette before I caught myself.
– Hey, Lucas. Come in.
I greeted her, stepped inside, and settled into a plush waiting room chair. She asked me to hang tight for a moment, and I nodded.
A few minutes later, I was in the dental chair for my exam and cleaning. She tilted the chair back, flicked on the overhead light, and ran through the standard questions before I opened my mouth. About 25 minutes later, she brought the chair upright and asked a few follow-ups.
– Feeling okay, Lucas?
She asked, slipping off her nitrile gloves with a snap.
– All good, Mia. Thanks.
Her presence, if I’m honest, set my nerves on edge. My cousin’s stunning, and that snug scrub top made it hard to focus.
– Any sensitivity at all?
I shook my head no, and she gave a quick, “Nice.” She handed me a small mirror and told me to check my smile.
– Look at that, Lucas. Your teeth are flawless. Healthy gums, no cavities. I’m a little jealous.
As I studied my reflection, I kept stealing glances at her green eyes, sparkling under the fluorescent light.
I followed her to her cozy office, where she sat behind a sleek desk, and I took the chair opposite.
– Lucas, your oral hygiene is impeccable. Well done.
I wasn’t expecting the praise, so I blinked, momentarily at a loss.
– Seriously? Thanks, Mia.
– For real. Your teeth are perfectly proportioned, naturally bright. I hope my work lived up to your standards.
I felt a wave of ease with her, so I told her she’d be my go-to dentist from now on, no question.
Our chat drifted to the weather.
– Lucas, it’s chilly in here, but once I get moving, I’m burning up. Look at me, already sweating.
As she spoke, she tugged down the zipper of her scrub top, revealing a fitted tank top underneath. The neckline dipped low, exposing a glimpse of smooth skin and the edge of a navy bra.
I froze, unsure where to look. She met my gaze, her top still unzipped, a faint sheen of sweat visible on her collarbone.
– Relax, Lucas. We’re cousins.
I didn’t know what to say.
– I’m actually kinda cold, Mia. Nearly nodded off in that chair.
– Oh yeah? Should’ve told me. We could’ve curled up for a nap. I’m wiped, and I’ve got a free hour. Could’ve even popped a movie on the dental unit’s screen.
Her words threw me again.
– Tempting, Mia, but maybe next time, – I said, tossing in a playful smirk.
– Deal, Lucas. Back in six months for your next cleaning?
– Count on it.
I stood, and we walked to the exit. At the door, she took my hand and pressed a small dental care kit into it.
– For you, Lucas. A little something from me.
Her hand lingered on mine, and I got lost in her eyes, their green depths pulling me in.
– Your smile’s pretty perfect too, Mia. Really lights up the room.
She flushed, her lips curving into a shy smile.
– Thanks, Lucas. Catch you soon.
I started to leave, but she stopped me, leaning in to kiss my cheek.
– Bye, Lucas. Stay safe.
The gesture caught me off guard, but I returned a quick kiss on her cheek.
– Bye, Mia. See you soon.
I descended the stairs – her office sits on the second floor of a plaza, right beside a gym.
Her face haunted me the whole drive home.
That night, I saw she’d posted a WhatsApp story. She’d added me to her contacts, which floored me.
The next day, I shared a dentist-fear meme on my story. Within 15 minutes, she messaged:
“Lmao, for real?”
I’d posted it hoping she’d bite, but a reply? Unexpected. I typed back.
– Totally, Mia. Dead serious.
– Scared of what, exactly?
– Some dentists are intimidating. Especially if they’re drop-dead gorgeous.
– Oh, like me?
– Yeah, you in that charcoal scrub? Lethal.
– Well, next visit, I’ll ditch the scrubs so you’re not spooked.
– Haha, I’m holding you to that.
I couldn’t believe the exchange. Six months felt like forever, so a week later, I texted her for a whitening appointment. She booked me for the next evening.
At 4:30 p.m., I arrived, but the office was locked. Figuring she’d stepped out, I plopped onto the plaza stairs, the gym’s music thumping nearby. My phone buzzed.
– Hey, cousin. Be there in five.
– All good, Mia.
Minutes later, her voice came from behind. She was fresh from the gym, hair damp, wearing her scrub top and carrying a duffel bag.
I trailed her as she unlocked the office, apologizing for the delay. I brushed it off.
Inside, she asked for a moment to set up. Then she called me to the chair, and things took a wild turn.
– So, Lucas, scrubs or no scrubs?
My heart slammed into overdrive, and I couldn’t find words.
– Chill, cousin. Freshly showered and all.
She unzipped her duffel, pulling out her gym clothes – a tight tank and leggings – and dangled them with a grin. I was still mute.
Before I could respond, the buzzer sounded. She tucked the clothes away and stepped out. A woman with a dental emergency. Mia returned, asking if I could wait 30 minutes, as the patient needed urgent care. I told her to handle it and that I’d reschedule.
I headed for the door. The woman glanced at me.
– Sorry, young man. I didn’t mean to interrupt.
– No problem, ma’am. All good.
I waved goodbye to Mia and started down the stairs. She caught up, breathless.
– Here, Lucas. A little keepsake.
She slipped something into my hoodie pocket.
– Bye, Lucas.
She darted back inside. I reached into my pocket, feeling soft fabric. My jaw dropped. It was her teal sports bra, bundled with her matching gym leggings. I got home, locked my bedroom door, and pulled out the set. The fabric carried her scent – clean, warm, uniquely her. A faint damp patch caught my eye. I brought it closer, inhaling deeply. The aroma was intoxicating, primal. My fingers traced the spot, and I couldn’t resist tasting it, my tongue grazing the fabric.
The sensation overwhelmed me. I pressed the clothes to my face, breathing her in as I touched myself, lost in the moment.
After, I hid the set in my dresser, still reeling.
That night, Mia texted, asking if I liked her gift. I poured out how it felt to hold something so personal, so hers.
– For real? Oh, Lucas. Want to come back tomorrow?
I jumped at the chance. She could only fit me in at 7:30 p.m.
– Got 7:30 open. Cool?
– Perfect, Mia.
After a long chat, she told me to come ready.
All day at work, she consumed my thoughts. I got home, showered, and as 7:30 neared, my pulse raced.
At 7:15, I climbed the plaza stairs and buzzed the door. She opened it after a moment.
No scrubs tonight. She wore a cropped leather jacket, unzipped, revealing a sheer black bra with delicate straps. A silver navel ring gleamed. She grabbed my hand, pulled me inside, and locked the door. No waiting room this time. Rain drummed on the roof as she dimmed the lights, leaving only the dental chair’s lamp glowing. I sank into the chair, and she straddled me, her thighs warm against mine. I slid her jacket off, her skin soft under my fingers. Our lips met, slow at first, then hungry. Her tongue teased mine, her breath hot. My hands roamed her back, tracing the curve of her spine as she pressed closer, her chest against mine, the lace of her bra rough under my palms. The rain’s rhythm faded as her fingers tugged at my shirt, her nails grazing my skin, sending sparks through me.
Friends, don’t skip your dentist visits – twice a year, minimum.
If you’re into this story, let me know, and I’ll drop the next part.

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