As you will have guessed from his name, Kumar was from India, but, as was common, he had come to England to complete his specialist training after graduating in Medicine at one of the premier Medical Schools in New Delhi. He was tall —over six feet in height — with long black hair, which he kept tied back in a pony tail, and a beautiful olive complexion. He was, and is, very handsome with an aquiline nose and piercing deep brown eyes, and the junior nurses all fell in love with him.The work of a Casualty Unit is exhausting, and I was often too tired after a day on my feet for much of a social life. When I mentioned this in passing one day over a snatched break for a cup of tea, Kumar suggested that I might find a massage an ideal way to relax at the end of a hard week. When I said that I didn't know any suitable massage parlours — they had a reputation for being a front for something else rather less savoury — and the cost of a session at a health spa was way out of my league, he. I'd worn silk instead of cotton panties because I thought they would be more soothing to my inflamed and bruised labia. I was right, the soft silk felt gentle, reminding me of how Randy's tongue had sought entrance there."I hear you and Patty are looking for a larger home," I said to change the subject, successfully. The mention of a larger home was all it took for Peter to launch into a diatribe about the complexities of searching for the perfect house. While talking, he happened to mention his new position and how much was expected of him at work.Realizing I was nervously looking behind him at the growing line, Peter said goodbye. "Sarah, if there's anything you need while Danny's away..." He was looking directly at my breasts. I wondered if they looked heavy to him. They felt heavy to me. They felt mauled. They felt adored. "Call me," he finished the sentence.When the phone rang that night I was sure it was Danny calling. I was prepared to confess everything. If he would only.
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