The following story is mostly fiction, but there are some elements drawn from various experiences of my past. Note that there is no violence, physical abuse, or persons, either fictional or real, who are under 18 years of age.
Some years ago before I was married I used to like to play soccer with some of my friends from the civil engineering company where I worked. It was always a good excuse to get some exercise and to be outside. We would play rain or shine, and I was one of the regulars. There was a particular Thursday afternoon when we had all changed into shorts, tee shirts, and athletic shoes and decided to play despite the light rain that had been falling all day. The high school field that we used was particularly muddy, but that didn't faze us in the least. I remember that I had been dribbling the ball down field but was hit square by one of the guys on the other team. Down I went with my ankle twisted into shapes that nature hardly intended. I wasn't sure if it was broken or not, but it hurt like hell.
Two of the guys piled me into the back of a teammate's Jeep and took me to the emergency room of the local hospital. The doctor on duty, a GP, checked me out and didn't think that anything was broken, but wanted some X-rays just to be sure. They sent me to the second floor to the Orthopedic Group for further evaluation. Dr. Hart (he probably was in the wrong specialty) sent me down the hall and that is where this story really begins. I was greeted by the technician, a cute beyond belief red head wearing a white lab coat, named Elyse. I was feeling better just being near her: sweet face, to die for smile, a sense of humor, and under that lab coat was what I surmised as a great little body.
"I need just two more pictures and then you can go back to see Dr. Hart," she said.
"Darn, I was hoping that I could spend the evening here!" I thought to myself.
"How long have you been doing X-rays?" I asked trying to start a conversation.
"I've only been here about two months. I like the variety between arms, shoulders, legs, hips, feet. You name it."
"What did you do before this?" I asked innocently enough as Elyse repositioned my leg for the next X-ray picture.
"I worked for an OB/GYN practice doing mammograms, but it was boring."
"Boring?" I thought to myself as images of titties of all sizes came to mind, "How so?"
"There wasn't much variation to it. It was just one pair of breasts after another all day long. At least here I get to do different body parts with different problems. You have an ankle injury, but the patient before you had a toe problem and the surgeon wanted X-rays before doing a bunion job. Before that was a woman with carpal tunnel."
"But women's breasts come in all sizes and shapes," I added letting my imagination go a little wild and hoping to continue the conversation.
"They do, but for the most part those were routine examinations. Many women get one annually. It might be hard to understand at first, but smaller breasted women have a tougher time than larger breasted ones."
"Really?"
"A small breasted woman needs to find enough breast to position between the glass plates. It isn't that easy. Mine aren't that large and I can speak from experience."
Now that was more information than I was expecting. Still, Elyse was one of the cutest women on two feet and I'd love to get to know her better, so I just came right out and asked, "So I suppose you have a boyfriend?"
"No, not at the moment. I did, but I learned he was a jerk and dumped him. Here's my phone number so give me a call. You seem like a decent guy."
"OK, thanks. I will call you."
"Good luck with the arm. Dr. Hart should have these films by the time you get back to see him."
As it turned out I did not have any breaks but would not be playing soccer for some time. So, a few days later I called Elyse and asked her for a date. Nothing special, but we'd go watch my friends play and then have a casual meal. Elyse was glad to hear from me and readily accepted. After the date she asked me to her place where she made some coffee and we chatted for hours. We really hit it off and decided to have a follow-up date, which was a fancier dinner followed by a concert in town.
(By this point in the story most readers are asking where the action is because so far it's pretty tepid and tame. OK, so here goes.)
