"Hell no. One of them is a resident at San Diego General. She barely has time to shit and eat so we hook up only when she remembers she’s a sexual being, which is like once a month, if that. At most, I'm a live action dildo for her."
"And the others?"
"Why are we talking about this?"
"Dunno. I'm kind of intrigued." I was. I should be more appalled but he was like an introductory course in modern mating and I was obviously in need of an education.
He sighed heavily. "Okay, the one I see more regularly is an on-base nurse. She does all the blood tests. We got to talking one day and one thing led to another. She doesn't want to be tied down to a military guy but right now, we're all that’s in her path."
"A nurse and a doctor. You going to want me to dress up in nursing costume?"
There was a prolonged silence as Gray appeared to contemplate this for far too long. "Gray!" I pretended to be shocked.
"Sorry, sorry," he finally said. "Not that I'm asking, but would you?"
I shook my head at him but didn't say no. The idea of dressing up in a costume to have sex with him wasn’t a turn off. Not at all.
"So the other?" I prompted.
"EMT," he muttered through his fingers.
"What was that?"
“EMT," he said more clearly.
"You do have some kind of medical fetish,” I declared. "What are you doing with me? I'm a knitter. Should I take you over to the osteopath school and find some nice student for you?"
"Shush, you.” Gray pulled me down. "I don't know why they're all in the medical profession. Probably because they have the same hang-ups as I do about safety before sex. It doesn't matter. I don't have it all that often and it's meaningless."
"I don’t think so." I reached down and stroked his chin. The stubble on his chin that had appeared in the afternoon and grown into the evening was prickly against my palm. I actually loved the feel of it, so different than the smoothness of my own. The contrast made me shiver. The roughness of his stubble against my breasts and my neck had been thrilling. Just the remembrance was sending tendrils of excitement through my bloodstream.
"Why's that?" he mumbled, sounding distracted. I drew my hand away slightly and his head followed me, seeking out my touch. I allowed myself a tiny private smile. We were connected.
“It seems to me you do have relationships. They’re girls you have friendships with and then you have sex. Isn’t that some kind of attachment?”
"No, because all we do is have sex. At times that are convenient to us. There are no preliminaries. I call her up or she calls me up, we meet, do the deed, and then go home. No sleepovers. No cuddling."
"That sounds really... Cold." I wanted to say awful.
"It's not," he replied curtly.
"But how can the sex be any good?"
"It's good if you know what you're doing." The sides of his lips quirked up. "And I do."
"I know you do." I traced a finger in and then out of the grooves on the sides of his mouth. The gold flecks in his eyes glowed. As if they were beckoning me, I leaned forward and placed my lips softly against the sides of his upturned lips. He didn't move but just allowed me to explore him. Bracing myself with my left arm, I ran my free hand over his chest, savoring each hard ridge. The curve of his shoulder flowed into a large muscled arm and lightly furred forearms. In contrast to the indolent ease of the rest of his body, his large hands were gripping the cushion. I was gratified by this show of both control and desire. I had no doubt that Gray could make my body feel good. It was the rest of me that I was worried about.
"You have a beautiful body,” I told him, whispering soft kisses over the high cheekbones and the peak of his nose.
"I think that's my line," he choked out.
"It's not a line.”
Gray reached for my wandering hand and pulled me down gently over him, repositioning me so I lay between the V of his legs.
"Maybe not." He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me. His lips were both soft and firm, and at first, it was just a plush meeting of flesh. When he parted his mouth and I felt the wetness of his tongue against the seam of my lips, I couldn't stop my own answer. The touch of his tongue against mine made me shudder. Collapsing against him, I clutched at his shoulder and ate at his mouth with a fervor matched by his own hunger.
He pushed his hips up, his groin pressing directly against my center. The sensation was so exquisite that I nearly came from just the pressure. This is so much better than touching myself.
"My God," he whispered against my lips. "Say it again."