When Chivalry is Called For
When Whitney Harrington woke up it was with the worse headache she had ever experienced. Her entire head throbbed so bad that she did not even open her eyes when she came to. She had to pee badly, and was not only in need of several ibuprofens, but her toothbrush as well as the taste in her mouth was horribly rancid. Whitney laid there for many minutes trying to will herself out of bed, yet at the same time hoping that she would fall back off to sleep.
After maybe fifteen minutes had passed, Whitney slowly swung her legs over the edge of the bed and placed her feet down onto the floor as she sat upright. She leaned forward planting her elbows upon her thighs and buried her face into her cupped hands. Whitney felt nauseous and light-headed. “What the fuck happened last night?” she wondered, but her head hurt too bad to try and recall.
She cracked open her eyelids for the first time and slowly spread her fingers to allow her eyes to adjust to the ambient light. When Whitney looked up, all she could see was a bright blur. She wiped the crust from her eyes and gave her head more time to clear, and when Whitney was finally able to focus, she became petrified at what she espied. “No, it can’t be,” she thought, trying to convince herself it was either a bad dream or that she was hallucinating.
What Whitney discovered was that she had woken up in Mick’s dorm room in his bed. She looked around further and spotted Mick sitting in his desk chair with his eyes closed. The chairback was in a reclined position and he seemed to be asleep as she could hear him gently snoring. Whitney again tried to recollect the events from the previous evening, but the last thing she could remember was getting ready with Lauren to go to the frat party.
“What the fuck happened?” Whitney asked of herself once more. She began to feel even more nauseous at the realization that the only plausible explanation was that she had gotten so drunk that she had come back to Mick’s room and slept with him. It was something she obviously would not have done in a million years under normal circumstances and Mick surely knew that. Tears began to well up in Whitney’s eyes at the thought that Mick had intentionally preyed upon her in a moment of vulnerability and taken advantage of her once more.
Whitney sat there for a moment trying to collect her thoughts, as nothing really seemed to make sense. It did not feel like she had sex, and knowing firsthand how large Mick was, Whitney figured she would be able to tell. If they had done it, why was she still fully clothed and why was Mick, who was also completely dressed, sleeping in the chair?
“And where the hell is Lauren?” thought Whitney. The pair was supposed to go to the party together, but Whitney could not remember that they in fact had done so. Certainly, Lauren would have never let anything happen to her, especially hook up with Mick, but where in the world was she? Whitney looked around and found her heels on the floor beside the bed and next to a small waste can, but there was not any sign of her friend.
Other than waking up in Mick’s bed, there was nothing that Whitney was certain of, thus she could not shake the dreadful feeling that in all likelihood they did indeed have intercourse. She absolutely did not want to wake Mick and come face to face with him, so she leaned down and picked up her shoes before walking barefoot gingerly towards the doorway where she found her coat and purse also laying on the floor. Being very careful not to make a sound, Whitney picked up her belongings and stealthily slipped out the door.
Once clear of Mick’s room, Whitney immediately put on her pumps then retrieved her cell phone from her purse to call Lauren. “Pick up, pick up,” said Whitney as she rushed to get out of the building while listening to Lauren’s phone ring. “Where the fuck are you?” she barked when Lauren’s voicemail greeting began. As Whitney scurried across the campus, she continued to phone and text her friend over and over, but to no avail.
* * *
Mick could faintly hear the sound of people laughing and talking in the distance as he walked down the tree lined street. It was obvious that he was in a very affluent neighborhood just by how brightly the homes were lit. The cost of electricity did not seem to be of any concern for the homeowners as every interior light inside house after house seemed to be ablaze, and each residence was illuminated by architectural uplighting in addition to the path lights adorning the driveways and walkways. When a vehicle pulled to a stop in front of several homes ahead of him and three loud girls exited, Mick knew he was getting close.
The fraternity house appeared almost exactly like how he envisioned it might. There was a short flight of granite steps from the sidewalk up to a gate that hung between two stone pillars with a wrought iron fence bordering the front yard, and the gradient from the sidewalk to the fence line was covered in ivy. The building itself was a two-and-a-half story, brick Georgian Colonial with a slate hip roof having wings extending off each side of the main structure. The portico featured four white classical Doric columns supporting a simple pediment which was adorned with the fraternity’s Greek letters Κ Γ Φ. As Mick walked towards the entrance he thought, “Certainly has Bradley Hall beat.”
“Garrett Kaufmann,” barked a fraternity member as Mick came through the door, accosting the newly arrived house guest with an outstretching welcoming hand. The lad was wearing a hunter green long-sleeved polo shirt with the fraternity’s Greek letters embroidered in bright yellow upon the left breast. “Mick Michel” he replied while shaking hands.
“I am the social coordinator for Kappa,” said the young man, “On behalf of the fraternity–welcome.” Mick thanked Garrett who then began to run down the evening’s refreshments and festivities.
“Over here to your left through the large open doorway is the dining room,” said Garrett while pointing. “There’s food, keg beer and wine–all free, but we do ask for a five-dollar donation for mixed drinks,” he informed Mick before adding, “If you prefer punch, it’s in the library through the doors behind me, so help yourself.”
“Thank you,” replied Mick.
Garrett then directed Mick’s attention towards the staircase at the back of the entrance hall. “Downstairs is the rec room where you’ll find foosball, beer pong and another keg,” he continued before stating to Mick, “The second-floor residence is off limits to guests.”
Before Mick could say another word, Garrett broke into the same spiel as more partiers arrived, which made for a good opportunity to slip away and head for the dining room and the keg. After pouring a beer, Mick filtered through the crowd in the dining room to see if he could find Sean but did not spot him. He looked at his watch and found that it was just shy of 9:30 p.m. “He’s got to be here by now,” Mick thought.
Mick walked back out into the large entrance hall figuring his friend was bound to be somewhere around. As he surveyed the room, he found the interior of the fraternity to be no less ostentatious than the exterior. There was a large oriental rug in the center of the room with several dark leather chairs and couches arranged around its perimeter, except on the side closest to the fireplace which had the fraternity’s coat of arms hanging above the limestone mantel. The wooden floor had an intricate parquet design and the hall featured richly stained wooden wainscoting and millwork. Scattered around the walls were old black and white photographs of who Mick assumed were the earliest members of the fraternity. It all smacked of snobbery, elitism and privilege, and while he did not share Abby’s disdain for the Greek life culture, he suddenly was not sure why he wanted to come so badly in the first place. Mick thought, “This is exactly the kind of place I’d expect to find Whitney Harrington,” and before he had the chance to cringe that he might have just tempted fate, Mick heard someone call his name. When he turned around, Mick was aghast to find Lauren Palmer standing there.
“H-hey Lauren,” said Mick hesitantly, knowing that if she was in attendance, then Whitney Harrington could not be far behind as one was never without the other.
“Oh my god I’m so glad to see you,” said Lauren sounding distressed, “I really need your help.”
Even though Lauren was Whitney’s ever-present companion and sorority sister, for everything that had gone down between himself and Whitney, Mick had no issue with Lauren as she had always treated him cordially. “Are you alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she told him, “It’s Whitney that I’m worried about.”
“Oh.. kay…,” said Mick, the reluctance in his voice being quite obvious.
“I know, I know,” exclaimed Lauren, “The two of you aren’t besties.” It was also quite evident as she continued to speak, that whatever was going on was quite disconcerting to her.
Lauren began by telling Mick that she and Whitney had arrived about half an hour ago and were immediately greeted by a fraternity member at the door. “Garrett?” asked Mick as he pointed to him standing at the entrance.
“No,” replied Lauren, “He said his name was Brody and he had black medium-length shaggy hair.”
Next, she told Mick that they were chatting with Brody when his friend Reese walked up and introduced himself. Lauren mentioned when Reese spoke, he sounded like some surfer from California. “He was taller and thin,” said Lauren, “with blonde hair parted on the side and a somewhat large arched nose.” She stated that Reese had two cups of punch, one for his friend Brody and one for himself but offered to let her and Whitney have them and he would go get two more.
“I really hate to ask this,” said Mick, “so where is Whitney?”
“That’s the thing, I don’t know for sure,” said Lauren emphatically. She told Mick that she and Whitney talked with the two guys for a bit before she asked where the restroom was. Lauren went on to say that on the way back she ran across a friend and stopped to talk for a several minutes and when she got back, the three of them were nowhere to be found. “I looked everywhere, texted and called her phone,” stated Lauren before adding, “and when I couldn’t locate her, I began to ask around if anyone had seen them.”
“And?” Mick inquired.
“One of the girls I asked said she thinks she saw them going upstairs,” Lauren told him.
“Wait,” interjected Mick, “Miss Sorority might be hanging out with two frat boys?” Lauren could tell by the way he phrased the rhetorical question that Mick found that rather trivial. “That’s sound exactly like something she would do,” he told her.
“No,” stated Lauren assertively, “it’s exactly something that she would not do.” Lauren went on inform Mick that the two of them had a safety pledge and that whenever they went out together, they always watched each other’s back and were to know where the other was at all times. “I’m afraid for her Mick,” admitted Lauren earnestly.
“What do you want me to do about it?” he asked her.
Lauren told Mick that the girl she spoke to gave her a fairly good idea of which bedroom Whitney might be in. “I want you to go with me to find her,” she told him. Mick reminded Lauren that they were not allowed up on the second floor. “Please do the right thing and help me,” pleaded Lauren in response.
“Do the right thing…” reverberated through Mick’s psyche. He immediately thought about the settling of his bet with Whitney and how he had treated her. Mick exhaled, long… slow… and pensively. He took Lauren by the hand and said to her, “Come stand by the stairs with me.” Mick laid out the plan to her, that when no one in a green shirt was watching he would say go and she was to get up the stairs quickly and he would follow right behind her. Mick did his best to act nonchalant as he kept his eyes open waiting for the opportune time to make their move. “Where the hell is Sean?” thought Mick as he stood there watching and waiting for the opportune moment.
Without a hitch, they were able to make it up to the second floor without being seen and began to search for the correct bedroom. Mick asked with a lowered voice, “Which one is it?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” Lauren informed him, “The girl I spoke to said she thought their room was the second or third door on the left as you turned left at the top of the stairs.” She walked down to the end of the hallway and returned to where Mick was standing and said, “None of the doors are marked.”
Mick looked at Lauren and brought his index finger to his lips, then stood silently for a moment before pointing at one of the entrances to the rooms. He placed his hands against both sides of the doorframe, leaned in and carefully placed his ear against the door to listen. It was difficult to hear over the noise emanating from the party downstairs, but Mick could faintly detect muffled voices coming from behind the entrance. He backed away and spoke to Lauren in a hushed voice telling her, “I can hear two people talking.”
“So what do we do?” she asked him?
Mick knocked gently on the wooden door, enough that anyone inside would certainly hear it, but not so much as to draw unwanted attention. He waited a moment and when no one came to the door he knocked again. Once more no one answered so Mick leaned back in and listened intently for several seconds and found that the voices inside had stopped, which he found rather curious. “Dial Whitney’s phone,” he instructed.
Lauren pulled her mobile from her purse, called her friend’s number, then held the phone at arm’s length away from the door. As the two heard the call begin to go through on Lauren’s mobile, they both listened intently for the sound of Whitney’s phone from behind the door. Lauren’s eyes instantly widened to the size of golf balls and her mouth dropped agape when she heard Whitney’s ring tone come from inside the room. Mick immediately covered her mouth with his one hand and grabbed her by the arm with his other. He backed Lauren down the hall away from the door and once again motioned for her to be quiet and stay put before releasing her. “That’s her phone! That’s her phone!” screamed Lauren in the most muted voice she possibly could manage.
Mick stepped back in front of the portal and slowly tried the handle but found it to be locked. He made a fist and pounded on the entrance creating a thundering racket, then counted to ten. When no one answered still, he announced in a resolute tone, “I’m not going away.” Mick gave it a few more seconds then banged again on the door. “You can open it or I’ll kick it in,” he barked. The door sprung open, but only enough so that the room’s occupant could look out.
“What’s your problem dude?” asked a blonde-haired individual with a beak and Adam’s apple when his face appeared in the gap of the door.
“Let me guess?” said Mick, “You must be Reese.”
“Party’s downstairs brah, second floor is off-limits,” answered Reese.
“Where is she?” demanded Mick.
“Private residence,” Reese informed Mick as he tried to peer into the bedroom. From inside the room, a young man’s voice called out asking Reese, “Who is it?”
Mick could tell that Reese was leaning up against the door to brace it, but he became distracted when his unidentified cohort questioned who was on the other side of the entryway. Reese turned slightly around to answer and Mick did not hesitate to decisively act upon the opportunity. Before Reese could get a single syllable out, Mick curled his arm tightly into his body, lowered his shoulder and rammed the ajar door. The door flew inward and struck Reese in the side of the face, sending him stumbling backward. Mick charged in and there on a bed in the far-right corner of the room lay Whitney. He could see that her red leather mini skirt and black turtleneck were pushed up, but Whitney’s pantyhose and bra appeared to be still properly in place. Sitting on the bed next to her was another member of the fraternity who was desperately trying put Whitney’s clothing back in order.
“What’s your fucking problem brah?” screeched Reese who was holding his hand to the side of his head. He squared up at Mick, took a quick slide step towards him and launched a roundhouse kick at Mick’s head. Without even a conscious thought, Mick immediately raised his arms to protect himself from the impact. It was simply muscle memory from his training in the military and after blocking the kick, Mick hooked his arm around his assailant’s lower leg. Reese suddenly found himself off-balance with literally a single leg only to stand on. Without moving his feet, Mick swiveled his body around forcefully to yank Reese towards him and at the same time, Mick slammed the heel of his free hand into Reese’s oncoming snout. It was a devastating blow which caused Reese to go flying backwards yet again. He fell over a chair and crashed into a desk in the far-left corner of the room, knocking over and breaking a floor lamp during his travels. “Brody, he broke my fucking nose!” howled Reese as he lay on the floor bleeding profusely from his busted face.
Brody stood up, but not before he reached down between the bed and the adjacent side table to retrieve a pitching wedge. He cranked his arms back as he approached the unwanted intruder, but Mick stepped to him quickly, closing the distance between the two of them before Brody could complete his swing. Mick grabbed hold of both the club and Brody by the wrist, and they began to wrestle for control of the bludgeon in the middle of the room. Mick quickly overpowered his adversary by wrenching his arms which forced Brody to bend over and bring the head of the golf club down to the floor in the process. Mick reared back raising his elbow high over his head, then mercilessly punched Brody in his temple. He collapsed down onto one knee from the blow and before Brody could fight back, defend himself or even blink, Mick struck him a second time unrepentantly. Brody crumpled down onto the floor nearly unconscious from the thrashing.
Out the corner of his eye, Mick could see Reese begin to struggle to his feet, so he bent the shaft of the club into a V then flung it like a tomahawk at him. Reese was just barely able to roll out of the way and the mangled club skipped off the floor and into some metal Venetian blinds creating quite the clatter. “Don’t you fucking dare get off the ground,” ordered Mick, sounding very intimidating.
Suddenly, another fraternity member with red, spiky hair and clad in a green shirt appeared in the doorway having been drawn by the commotion. “What the fuck?!” he exclaimed as he surveyed the scene before him.
“Get the brothers!” commanded Reese while frantically pointing back towards the stairwell, “GO GET THE BROTHERS!”
As the boy sprinted away Lauren darted into the room and jumped onto the bed beside her friend. “Whitney?” she called out as she held her friend’s hand and patted her cheek lightly, but Whitney by all appearances seemed unconscious.
“What did you do to her?” Mick demanded to know.
Still woozy from his beating, Brody struggled to reply, “We didn’t do anything.”
Mick leaned down to Lauren and whispered, “We need to get out of here.”
When she looked up at Mick, he saw the utter rage flash in Lauren’s eyes, and she flew up off the bed and began to stomp Brody with her heeled ankle boots. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?” screamed Lauren at the top of her lungs as Brody curled up into the fetal position with his arms around his head to protect himself. Mick pulled her off Brody and spun her around. He took hold of both Lauren’s arms and gave her good shake, then stooped down to look her directly in the eyes and as convincingly as he could, Mick told her, “We need to go.”
It was too late, as suddenly what appeared to be half the party arrived at the open bedroom door. Blocking the entryway was sizeable and well-groomed frat boy who looked around before impassively asking, “What the fuck is going on?” Mick placed Lauren behind himself to protect her and thought, “Where is Sean god damnit?”
While still lying on the floor and holding his head, Brody pointed at Mick and said, “This guy broke down our door and started shit with us!”
“Chase, turn the brothers loose and put a beat down on this asshole,” implored Reese as he remained sprawled on the floor.
Not to be cowed, Lauren stepped out from behind Mick and vehemently declared, “These two gave her something and tried to rape her.”
“Whoa! Whoa!” shrieked Brody, “That’s a fucking lie.”
“She was high as shit when she got here,” added Reese.
Chase, who unbeknownst to Mick and Lauren was the fraternity president, continued to silently scrutinize the situation before him.
“Go ahead, let them rush me” Mick said calmly to Chase. “I’ll probably get my ass kicked,” he conceded. “But I promise you this,” Mick continued as he turned and made eye contact with both Brody and Reese. “Before it’s over, I’m putting both of you headfirst through the window,” he told them. Mick then turned back towards Chase and informed him that, “And this sexual assault will be reported to both the police and the university, in addition to your fraternity’s selling of alcohol and selling it to minors.” Mick could see Chase take a deep breath, but his poise did not waver. “Then I’ll see that your chapter charter is revoked,” Mick told him before derisively adding further, “Did I forget to mention the media?”
The room grew silent but the noise in the hallway continued as partygoers jockeyed for position to see what was happening. Chase turned around and roared at the crowd, “Everyone get back downstairs now!” He then looked back at Mick and told him, “Get her up, and all of you get the fuck out.”
“C’mon Chase,” pleaded Reese, “Let the boys gank his ass.”
Chase pointed at his fraternity brother and said, “You two twats shut the fuck up, and don’t say another word until spoken to.”
Mick leaned into Lauren and said, “Quickly, grab her stuff.” Mick scooped up Whitney as Lauren picked up her purse and coat from the other bed. She followed Mick as he carefully carried her limp friend out of the room, down the stairs and out the front entrance. Everyone gawked as they passed by and several frat boys followed them out before stopping on the front porch.
As Mick passed through the gate, several arriving guests were jumping out of a rideshare. “Can you give us a lift back?” asked Lauren. The middle-aged woman driver took a look at Whitney and shook her head stating, “I don’t want her in my car.”
“Please,” Lauren begged, “I’ll pay you extra.”
“I said I don’t want someone that drunk in my car,” barked the woman who then promptly pulled away.
Lauren looked at Mick and asked him, “What do we do now?”
“Start walking,” he told her, “I want to put some distance between us and this fraternity.”
They had not made it quite two blocks yet when Whitney vomited all over herself and Mick’s nice jacket. “Fucking perfect,” said Mick, irked as hell. He looked around and spotted a sidewalk bench on the other side of the street and crossed over to lay Whitney down.
“I have some tissues and a small bottle of water in my purse,” Lauren told him. As she proceeded to do her best in cleaning up her friend, a conversation ensued about what to do next.
Mick said to Lauren, “I want you to be honest, were you two doing anything before going to the party?”
“Absolutely not,” she assured him, “Whitney doesn’t even do pot, she hates the smell.”
“Prescription medication, cold medicine?” he further inquired.
“Of course not,” Lauren replied.
“Then they must have slipped her something,” surmised Mick, “probably in those drinks they first offered you.”
“I’ll bet you’re right,” said Lauren, “I didn’t have more than three sips of mine, so that makes sense.”
“We should call an ambulance” Mick told Lauren, “Whitney should go to the hospital.”
“No!” she immediately objected.
“Lauren, look at her,” he said, “She probably needs her stomach pumped.”
“Please don’t take this the wrong way because I’m not trying to be funny,” said Lauren, “but I don’t think that’s a problem anymore.”
“What if she was assaulted?” Mick asked soberingly before expounding, “They would need to collect the evidence.”
“Oh my god!” shrieked Lauren as she began to break down and cry, “This can’t be happening.”
“Help me get her coat on before she freezes,” requested Mick.
“Do you think…” asked Lauren, suddenly too shaken and unable to finish her own sentence.
“No,” came Mick’s answer, “From what I saw I’m positive they didn’t have enough time.”
“Thanks to you,” replied Lauren with a smile, as she reached over and affectionately squeezed his arm. “Do you think you can carry her back to Bradley Hall?” inquired Lauren.
“Wait — no!” said Mick, “If she’s not going to the hospital then she’s going back to your sorority.”
Lauren explained to Mick that the reason she did not want Whitney taken to the hospital or back to the sorority house was because they were both on probation and if it were to be found out what happened, they would both be ousted. “Nope, nuh-uh,” was his reply.
“Getting kicked out would absolutely crush her,” Lauren told him.
“And what about me bringing her into my dorm?” he posed, “My ass could be on the line for doing that.” Mick looked at Lauren who continued to sob and said to her, “I won’t take the responsibility if something were to happen to her.”
“The responsibility will be mine,” she told him. “Please Mick,” she pleaded, “I have nowhere else to turn.”
Mick chuckled inside as he thought, “This is karma coming back to bite you in the nuts for what you did.” Calling Abby briefly crossed his mind but then he remembered she was giving her roommate Zoey a ride back from the airport. “She’d never let me hear the end of this anyway,” he told himself.
“Even if we can get across campus without public safety taking notice of us,” said Mick, “there’s a pretty good chance that my residential assistant will be camped out at the front door when we get there.”
“We have to try,” replied Lauren.
“If we get stopped, at that point you know she’s going to go to the hospital,” he informed her. Lauren simply nodded her head.
It was a twenty-five-minute walk through the chilly night air before they reached the edge of campus. Up to that point they had been fortunate to avoid attracting any unwanted attention as it had gotten late and the route back consisted mostly of quiet residential side streets. Mick walked swiftly through campus while taking a circuitous path trying to evade any security officers and cameras the best he could. As they had previously discussed, Lauren ran ahead when they neared Bradley Hall to scout the foyer for activity, especially Marlena. Incredibly, not only was the entrance empty, but they were able escape the gaze of any nosey coeds all the way back to Mick’s room.
Lauren pulled down the blanket and top sheet and Mick placed Whitney gently on his bed. After they had removed her coat. Mick placed Whitney on her side and began to position her arms and legs curiously. “What are you doing?” asked Lauren.
“Recovery position,” answered Mick, “So she won’t choke in case she vomits again.”
Fully expecting a repeat of the earlier misadventure, Mick placed his small trash basket next to the bed. He was genuinely concerned for Whitney and did not like that she had not yet come to, but she seemed to be breathing normally and he did not know what else could be done at the moment.
Lauren watched Mick toss his befouled coat on the floor as he was clearly annoyed. She removed Whitney’s shoes and placed them close to the bed stand so no one would trip over them. When he turned around, Lauren threw herself against Mick and hugged him tightly. “I can’t begin to thank you,” she started. “If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done,” Lauren told him before tearfully imparting, “and I hate thinking about what might of happened if you hadn’t.” Mick could not help but be moved by her words, but they did little to blunt his extreme displeasure over the current situation.
“Any mess she makes, you’re cleaning it up,” he told Lauren indifferently.
Mick turned his desk lamp on low before walking over and turning out the overhead lights. From his wardrobe he grabbed an extra pillow and blanket, and a towel. “Here,” he said to Lauren as he handed her the towel. Mick went and sat down on the love seat and kicked off his shoes and pants before laying down. He was scrunched up on the short sofa which only irritated him further, and he tried his best to fall off to sleep. Lauren took off her boots, crawled gingerly into bed next to her friend, pulled the blanket up over them both, and tried to do the same.
* * *
Mick awoke to Lauren leaning over him and whispering his name into his ear. “What time is it?” he asked.
“Almost seven-fifteen,” Lauren told him, “I have to go.”
Mick looked over from the love seat and could see that Whitney was still fast asleep exactly how he had left her. “Wait,” he said, “you’re taking her with you, right?”
Lauren explained to Mick that lost in all the chaos, she had totally forgotten about having breakfast with her parents this morning before they started back to the airport for their return flight to Florida. “No-no!” asserted Mick as he sat up and planted his feet firmly on the floor.
Lauren shushed him saying, “You’ll wake her.”
“Good!” Mick replied none to quietly.
“I’ll never get her up and moving to be able to get back to the sorority in time,” argued Lauren.
Mick replied apathetically, “So you’ll be late.”
Lauren assured Mick that he had no concept as to the shit storm it would cause if her parents were to watch her waltz in through the front door instead of down the hallway from her own bedroom. “Lie!” he told her, adding, “Tell them you were up early and went for a walk.”
“Just explain to Whitney what happened when she wakes up,” Lauren asked of Mick as she slipped on her boots, “and tell her to call me.”
Incredulous, Mick ran his fingers through his mussy hair as he said, “I don’t believe this right now.”
Lauren knelt down and placed her hand on Mick’s knee, attempting to placate him. “No one would disagree that you have gone above and beyond,” she said mollifyingly, “and I promise Mick that at some point I will make it up to you.” Lauren quickly snatched her belongings and hurried out of the room, partially to deny him any additional opportunity for protesting further.
Mick looked at Whitney and shook his head as he put his pants back on. He could not believe the situation he currently found himself in. He popped a single-serve pod into his coffee maker before heading to the john hoping that the smell might rouse his unwelcomed guest, but when Mick returned she was still fast asleep. “At least she didn’t barf again,” he thought.
Mick grabbed his fresh brew and sat down at his desk. He fired up his laptop as he took a couple of sips and realized that he did not even really want a cup of coffee as he was still tired and there was no good reason for him to be up this early, having nothing to do all day. Mick went through his email before skipping through his social media accounts which at the moment, he found very tedious. He looked at his cell phone and found a text message from Sean the night prior asking where he was at. It just further annoyed Mick and all he wanted was for Whitney to be gone. Unable to resist the urge to close his heavy eyes, Mick put his head back against his chair and within a minute dozed off.
Mick was awakened for a second time that morning, but by the sound of his own snoring. He sat up in the chair to check his phone laying on the desk and discovered it was just before 9:00 a.m. When he glanced over to his bed, he was delighted to find that Whitney was not there. Mick jumped up to check for Whitney’s shoes and coat and they were nowhere to be found. The only sign that she had been there was a lingering stale smell in the room. At first he thought it to be a tad bit curious that she just up and left, but he had no desire to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Mick placed his sullied jacket inside a trash bag and cinched it tight to keep it from stinking up the room until he could get it to the dry cleaners. He then stripped the sheets and blanket from his bed, stuffed everything into a laundry bag and ran out to get the load of wash started. Once returned, Mick peeled off his clothes from the previous evening which he had slept in. He threw a clean set of sheets on his bed and placed the cold mug of java in the microwave set on twenty seconds. As he began to make the bed, his phone laying on the desk began to ring. Mick walked over and found that it was Sean calling.
“Where the fuck were you last night?” Mick asked his friend.
“Me?!” retorted Sean, “What the fuck happened to you?”
“Oh I’ll tell you what happened to me,” said Mick, who then went on to lay out every last detail of the prior night’s escapade in its entirety for Sean, especially the part where he needed someone to watch his back.
“And she just left without saying anything?” asked Sean.
“Yep,” answered Mick.
“That’s the craziest shit I’ve ever heard,” Sean told him before apologizing. “Man, I’m sorry.”
Sean told Mick that he and his two friends had planned to hit The Boulevard prior to the party and once they got there, he had to tear his buddies away. “I don’t think we got to the fraternity until after ten,” Sean informed him. “You know I thought something was up,” Sean said further, “I’d never been to a frat party that carded you at the door before.” Mick talked to his friend for a few minutes more before saying goodbye and hanging up.
Mick retrieved his coffee from the microwave and sat the cup on his desk as he finished making his bed. He had become so engrossed in recounting to Sean everything that had transpired the night before, that he did not notice how long his microwave had run for. Mick had mistakenly punched in two hundred seconds on the timer, not twenty as intended, and his beverage had become piping hot. As he sat down in front of his laptop, Mick knocked the mug over spilling the coffee across his desk. The near boiling liquid ran off the top of his workspace and down onto his lap and bare leg scalding him. Mick tipped his chair over backwards as he jumped up screaming loud enough that the entire dormitory should have heard him. “FUCK! FUCK!” Mick yelled as he scurried for the towel he had given to Lauren.
Carefully he slid his wet boxers off his legs and gingerly blotted the moisture from himself. Mick could see that a large area of his left upper thigh sported a vivid red hue and it was severely painful. The family jewels also stung but his underwear had to a degree saved him thankfully from a more extensive injury.
Mick put on his bathrobe and shower sandals, grabbed a dry towel and hobbled down to his shower. He adjusted the water temperature to the coolest he could stand and dialed back the force of the spray, then ran water over his leg for around ten minutes. When he inspected the burn afterwards, visually it looked a little less intense but the pain was unchanged. Mick ambled to the first aid cabinet located on his floor only to find that there was not any burn cream in the supplies. He then slowly made his way down to the student lounge area by the dorm’s entrance and rifled through the case there but had no better luck.
When Mick returned to his room he immediately downed a couple of ibuprofens before slipping out of his housecoat and laying down on his bed naked. He had not slept so great on the love seat that previous evening and he hoped to drift off and awaken later to the pain having magically subsided. After forty-five minutes of restlessness and wincing, Mick decided to place a call to the campus health clinic to see if they were open. Hearing that they were, he put on his loosest pair of boxers and baggiest athletic pants that he had and walked slowly over to facility.
Once arrived, Mick checked in the with the receptionist who immediately gave him several forms to complete. When he was finished, Mick was led to an examination room, given a gown to change into and told the nurse would be in shortly.
Like many people, Mick did not care very much for going to see the doctor as it always left him with the feeling of somehow having been violated. Part of it surely stemmed from his days in the military where he very much disliked the total lack of any privacy and sitting there on the exam table in nothing but his socks and what amounted to a large paper napkin certainly did not help.
Not even two minutes had gone by before there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” instructed Mick. The pocket door slid open and a blonde-haired woman dressed in eggplant-colored scrubs walked in with her head down reading the notes on the clipboard she was carrying. “Hello Mr. Michel,” said the woman before looking up and extending her hand, “I’m Athena Stephanides, a nurse practitioner.” Mick looked back at her in disbelief as he hesitantly went to shake her hand. He starred at the name tag affixed above the pocket of her scrub top – “A. Stephanides, NP.”
Suddenly feeling self-conscious, the woman peered down at her chest before asking, “Is something wrong.”
“Oh no,” said Mick disingenuously, “I just didn’t quite catch your name.” The interaction struck the nurse as a bit odd while she cleaned her hands with sanitizer from the wall dispenser.
Turning her attention back to the clipboard, the nurse mumbled softly as she sifted through the paperwork. “The Dugout!” she blurted, having reached the questions regarding employment. The nurse glanced quickly at Mick, then turned away mortified as she suddenly found herself face to face with the guy she had thrown herself at on New Year’s. She had not recognized him at first and realized that Mick had known who she was at first sight. The nurse said, “Excuse me for a moment,” before bolting back out the room.
“What are the chances?” Mick asked himself as he sat there wondering what to do.
After taking a few minutes to compose herself, Athena walked back into the examination room. “Let me just first say,” she started without making any eye contact, “how absolutely embarrassed I am right now.” Mick struggled to find the right words for the situation, but he could only come up with, “No need to be.”
Athena informed him that because it was Sunday and the day before the semester got going in full swing, she was the only healthcare provider staffing the clinic that day. “I’d send someone else in,” she told Mick, “but there isn’t anyone.”
“That’s fine,” he replied before saying, “Let’s just move beyond it.”
“Okay,” said Athena as she cleared her throat, “It says you have a thermal burn to the upper left lower extremity and groin.”
“I spilled hot coffee on my lap,” responded Mick.
“May I have a look?” she asked.
Mick nodded, so Athena told him lie back as she pulled out the table’s leg rest. Athena put on a pair of blue nitrile gloves then slowly peeled back Mick’s covering exposing the lower half of his body. “That is one angry looking burn,” said Athena as she examined his thigh. “Spread your legs for me please,” she requested. When she took hold of Mick’s penis to move it out of the way Athena could sense his entire body tense up. “I’m sorry, did that hurt?” she asked him.
“No,” replied Mick, “I just wasn’t expecting you to do that.”
Also unexpected was the way Athena’s body immediately reacted. Having him in her hand again, even while gloved, turned Athena on as she could not help but begin to think about having Mick back in her mouth too. She told herself to concentrate and remained focused on her task.
Athena groped Mick’s testes as she continued her examination, asking him, “Does it hurt when I touch you here?” It was quite the opposite actually. While Mick’s leg was indeed painful from the burn, his penis and scrotum did not sting so much as they tingled, and he felt that anymore handling of his manhood was going to result in more manhood to handle. “Not at all,” he informed Athena as she proceeded.
“Fortunately there isn’t any blistering, it appears to be superficial only,” she announced before saying further, “and your genitalia don’t seem to be suffering from any redness or discomfort.”
“Guess my boxers saved the day,” replied Mick, feeling somewhat relieved.
“I’m going to apply some cream to the affected area,” Athena told him as she opened one of the wall cabinets, “It will help soothe the pain.”
Athena began to gently slather the ointment over his wound and as he laid there, Mick did his best to think about anything but being in the basement of The Dugout with his nurse on New Year’s. He attempted to fixate on his previous night’s misadventure, he thought about his upcoming course load for the semester, he recalled the worse moments of basic training, but no matter how hard he tried avoiding it, the memory of Athena stooped down blowing him kept creeping into his mind as she stood beside him applying the salve to his leg. Mick’s phallus began to twitch and like the minute hand of a timepiece sitting at ten to the hour, his dick incrementally ticked over as it straightened until it was in the twelve o’clock position. To make matters worse, his shaft began to levitate the harder it got.
Athena was also trying to do her best to maintain her professional demeanor and not crack even the slightest smile. She could feel how tense his body had become and when she looked at Mick’s face it was contorted from clenching his eyes tightly shut. “Just try and relax for me,” Athena told him as she patted Mick lightly on the shoulder to try and instill a sense of calmness.
He remarked, “I guess it’s my turn to be embarrassed now.”
“It’s just a natural reaction of your body,” She said to him soothingly, “You’re probably hypersensitive down there from having spilled hot liquid on your lap.”
Athena pulled the paper covering back down over Mick and again had to keep herself from busting out laughing when caught sight of his pole holding the center of his gown up in air. It was a literal illustration of someone pitching a tent. She instructed Mick to sit up as she raised the exam table’s backrest to its inclined position. “Rest here for a moment,” Athena told him, “I’m going to step out and complete my notes and your discharge instructions while we give the medication some time to work.
Athena’s true intention was to remove herself from the room and give Mick some time by himself to settle down. When she re-entered the examination room several minutes later, Athena found Mick bent forward with his arms tightly crossed. He appeared guarded and in discomfort. “You look like you are still in considerable pain,” she said to Mick.
“The cream worked really well actually,” was his reply.
“Then what’s wrong?” asked Athena pointedly.
“You know..,” Mick stammered, “that other thing.”
She stepped over to the side of the exam table and lowered the backrest to forty-five degrees, then ordered Mick to, “Lay back please.” Athena pulled his gown back to the side once more and found that Mick still had a full erection. “Is there any associated pain?” she asked as she donned a new set of exam gloves. Mick replied, “Only embarrassment.”
Mick’s nurse told him she was going to do a quick exam and began to palpate his rigid, elongated penis. With one hand, Athena took hold of his manhood just below the tip and began to gentle push on and rub the head of his shaft in a circular motion. She then ran her hand down his shaft, stopping a few times to gently squeeze his fleshy tower. Mick did not simply have just an erection, he had a raging hard-on. The feeling of his granite column in her hand caused Athena to tingle too and as she examined her patient, she shifted back and forth in her stance, rubbing the inside of her thighs together due to her own arousal.
“This could be priapism caused from the shock of the hot liquid,” Athena informed him.
“What is that?” Mick asked his nurse.
“An unusually long-lasting erection caused by trauma or disease,” she answered.
He inquired, “Is there something you can give me to make it go away?”
“There certainly are treatments to help initiate an erection,” advised Athena before informing him that if the condition persisted more than a few hours he would need to go to the emergency department, and treatment could consist of either a syringe being inserted into his penis to withdraw the blood causing engorgement or multiple injections in situ to administer medication to halt inbound blood flow. “If all else fails you may need surgical intervention,” she told him.
“You have to be freaking kidding me,” asserted Mick in disbelief as he suddenly sat upright.
“Before it gets to any of that I’d certainly give the all-natural remedy a try,” suggested Athena.
“What is that?” queried her patient.
Dumbfounded, she stared at Mick for several seconds before telling him, “Achieving climax.”
Mick quickly covered his face with his hand, mortified that he had to have it spelled out for him. He sat there for a moment collecting his thoughts and he did not like the sound of having to go to the hospital at all. Figuring that he had nothing to lose, Mick floated it out there.
“Any chance that I could convince you to possibly help me out?” inquired Mick.
Athena’s head seemed to convulse for a split second as an expression of shock came over her face. “Wow!” she exclaimed, “You really did just ask me that, didn’t you?” Mick looked away as an awkward silence fell quickly upon the room. “Let me guess,” continued Athena, “You were hoping we could pick up where we left off at New Year’s?” Again, he said nothing in return. “I’m pretty sure I remember you saying something along the lines of, ‘What if you were to come on to me at my job?'”
“You also made a resolution to have more fun,” Mick reminded her.
“Like you, I didn’t make a resolution to lose my job,” Athena informed him before adding, “or my license.”
Mick told her, “I apologize for having made the suggestion.”
Athena retrieved a disposable ice pack from the wall cabinet and a few paper towels from the counter. “Lay back and hold out your hand,” Mick’s nurse instructed as she squeezed and shook the cold pack to activate it. Athena laid the paper towels down in the palm of his hand, then the ice pack and told him to, “Hold this against yourself until I return.” She exited the room once more, seemingly perturbed.
“Fucked that up,” thought Mick as he began to ice his junk.
Not even five minutes had gone by when there was a quick knock before the door traversed open again. “Any change?” asked Athena as she re-entered. Her patient informed her, “No unfortunately.”
For the first time, Mick could hear the click of the lock as Athena shut the slider behind herself. She peeled back Mick’s gown without bothering to ask for permission and confiscated the cold pack and paper towels, placing them on the countertop. Athena suddenly grabbed hold of his clam shucker with her ungloved hand and found it to be still extremely firm… and clammy. “Nice dick-cicle you have there,” she remarked. Taken aback by the sudden change in her disposition, Mick looked at his attendant and discovered she was smirking.
Athena turned halfway around and opened one of the undercounter drawers to retrieve what appeared to be another tube of medication. She removed the cap and placed it on the counter before turning back around and clutching Mick’s erection at the base. Athena ran a bead of clear gel around the top of her thumb and index finger, encircling his penis before laying the tube also upon the countertop. “You must promise me that you’ll never speak a word of this to anyone ever,” demanded Athena as she slowly slid her hand up Mick’s shaft, coating him with the lubricant. “Ahhhhh,” he uttered softly with his mouth agape. Without hesitation, she leaned over the table and put her tongue into Mick’s open kisser as her hand began to descend down his length.
The two made-out for a moment before Athena once again demanded Mick’s fealty as she masturbated her charge. “Why the sudden change?” he responded in lieu of acceding to her request.
“I’ll admit, it pissed me off a bit how you just put it out there so matter-of-factly,” she told him, which elicited an apology from Mick. Athena asked him, “You didn’t recognize me that night, did you?”
“I had seen you in bar a few times before,” he answered.
“I checked you out hard a few times,” she confessed, “but never had the nerve to approach you until that night.”
“A little liquid courage?” remarked Mick.
Athena smiled broadly and told him, “Too much!”
“I give you my word that I’ll keep this to myself,” Mick told her before pulling Athena back in to kiss her more.
Athena continued to pound his pud as the two of them intermittently made out. After several minutes, Mick’s crank was in need of re-greasing, so Athena applied more lube and returned to jerking him off, this time with both her hands. From the bottom to the top of his dick, she repeatedly ran both her paws side by side in unison, up and down the expanse of his extension. After a while, Athena started to additionally rotate her hands around Mick’s pole as she went. She tried jacking him off with one hand while stroking the tip of his penis gently with the other, but after a few more minutes Athena sensed she had not moved the needle much. “Are you any closer?” she asked Mick. “Um, maybe,” he answered indecisively.
Athena picked up the discarded paper towels from the counter and wiped her hands off before retrieving a few facial tissues and mopping up the remaining lubricant from Mick’s hard-on. She leaned in close to her patient and whispered, “Not a single word,” then went down on him.
Mick gasped as Athena unexpectedly plunged her mouth down upon his spire, just as she had done in the basement of The Dugout on New Year’s. She began to blow him, bobbing up and down on the upper part of his column while continuing to use her one hand on his bottom half. It did not take long for Athena to enlist the assistance of her free hand to fondle Mick’s jewels.
Mick could not resist twirling his index finger through his paramour’s medium length bleached blonde hair as she was trying her honest best to get him off. He massaged Athena’s neck and the top of her shoulders briefly before serpentining his fingertips down along Athena’s back then up under her scrub top where he caressed her skin. Mick’s hand then wandered down her back again, this time with the intent of exploring Athena’s ass some. As his palm roamed all over her one cheek, Mick was sure to make a couple of passes over Athena’s labia with the tip of his middle finger ever so lightly before giving her haunch a squeeze.
The feeling of Mick’s hand exploring her body only served to make Athena hornier than what she had become from giving him head. Many times, she had fantasized about being taken at work by some beautiful stranger and she now found herself with the opportunity to live it out. Reality however differed from perception as Athena could not shake the fear of being caught in the act knowing the ramifications that would surely follow if she were to be discovered with Mick. She broke away and looked at Mick while continuing to beat him off. Athena was slightly out of breath and due to the expression on her face, she did not even need to ask the question. “I’m not holding out,” declared Mick.
Athena was very cognizant of the fact that the longer this went on, the more she was pushing her luck. Without saying a word she pulled the paper covering back down over Mick, turned and exited the exam room. “Shit,” thought Mick, but before he had any real amount of time to ponder what had happened, Athena came back through the door and once again locked it behind her.
“Stand up,” she instructed Mick who slid off the edge of the table and onto his feet as ordered. He was immediately grabbed by Athena and kissed with some zeal before she seductively whispered into his ear, “Fuck me.” This time it was Mick’s facial reaction that took no interpreting. “Don’t worry,” she told him as his apprehension was evident, “I’ll see to it that you don’t last that long.” He snickered, remembering that was what Athena had said to him on New Year’s. “I just checked with the receptionist,” she advised while tearing the disposable shroud from his body, “There are still no other intakes yet.”
Athena froze awe-struck when she gazed at his nude form in its entirety as Mick appeared to be the most perfect male specimen she had ever laid eyes upon. His distention almost seemed to be reaching out to her and it made Athena weak in knees as she stood there anticipating having him fully inside herself. She frantically kicked off her clogs while pulling her scrub top and gray sports bra over her head and as she cast her garments on top of Mick’s own attire laying on the chair in the corner, Mick seized Athena by her sides and leaned down to assail her bosom with his mouth. Her breasts were not bounteous but nor was she exactly flat-chested and Athena moaned softly when Mick took her one nipple into his mouth. In return, she latched on to his stiff cock with a single hand and began stroking him again. With his mouth and tongue, Mick worked his way up her chest to her neck and then back to Athena’s eagerly awaiting open mouth. She pulled her stethoscope from her rear pants pocket and tossed it onto the counter without looking when Mick began frenetically trying to undo the drawstring knot of her pants. When Athena felt her scrub pants fall lazily to the ground she quickly followed by removing her gray cotton triangle-cut briefs and tossing the two items onto the other clothes.
Even though she was extremely anxious knowing that time was not on their side, Athena could not resist the desire to throw her nude self into Mick and feel his gorgeous body pressed against her own if only for a moment. She kissed him as they lingered, enjoying the sensation of their firm nipples rubbing against one another, not to mention his erection sandwiched between them. Before too much time could pass, Athena broke away and scurried back to the sink area where she once more pulled open one of the undercounter drawers. She returned bearing the tube of lubrication along with a single condom packet which she tore open and held up for Mick so he could withdraw the contents. As Mick put on his raincoat, Athena turned around and stomped on the pedal of the tall metal trashcan behind her to flip up the lid so she could discard packaging. When she spun back around she found that Mick had already completed his task. Athena could not help becoming engrossed by the sight of his erection clad in its semi-transparent raspberry covering. The colored sheath seemed to accentuate the enormity of Mick’s massive cock and its anger.
Athena ran a line of lube down the top of half his length then carelessly flung the tube back onto the counter. With her index and middle fingers, she spread the clear gelatinous substance all along his shaft then wiped her goopy fingers between her own legs.
This time it was Athena who hopped up onto the examination table, and eagerly so. She positioned her bottom close to the edge of the table and laid against the backrest which was still in the halfway upright position. Having the supportive vantage by which to take in the exposition pleased her very much.
Mick positioned himself in front of Athena, placed his hands on her knees and spread her legs some before bowing his head towards her entrance. “We don’t have time for that,” she dissuaded him, adding that, “Another patient could come in any minute.”
Mick then placed his hand under Athena’s one knee, lifted her leg and pushed it away from him some. She watched intently as he took hold of his rock-hard dick with his other hand and inserted half of himself inside her. Mick was unbelievably firm, and so slippery that Athena doubted she could have kept him from penetrating her even if she had wanted to.
Mick took hold of Athena’s other leg to open her up more and he wasted no time getting up to speed because he knew there was not much time to waste. As he held her legs aloft while fucking her, Mick spotted the stirrups used for gynecological exams in their retracted position underneath the cushioned tabletop. He briefly pondered putting them to use telling himself, “That would be convenient,” but Mick quickly thought the better of it figuring that may be just a little too weird for his counterpart.
Before long, Mick became lost in the moment, forgetting why he was there in the first place. He got careless and crashed into the underside of Athena’s thigh with his burned leg which caused him to wince and cry out. “Oooh, careful,” said she consolingly before advising him that, “You can push my legs further apart.” When Mick looked at Athena she added, “Don’t worry, I do Pilates… I’m pretty flexible.” As he pushed her legs back, Athena wrapped her hands around her calves and pulled them back to where her feet were almost even with her head. Never in his life had Mick witnessed a woman spread so wide before and he immediately impelled himself deeper into his Hellenic goddess.
Mick’s cock was as unyielding as an iron pipe and at times Athena did find it to be a bit uncomfortable, and that did not go totally unnoticed. Mick asked, “I’m not being too rough, am I?”
“Too rough?” she playfully answered, “I’m still waiting for you to drop the hammer on me Thor.”
Athena watched as Mick began to incessantly drive the near entirety of his length between her legs. “Now that’s how you should have given it to me on New Year’s,” Athena told him.
“Is it now?” replied Mick.
“Mmm-hmm,” she slowly said with a sultry tone to her voice, adding, “I wanted it so badly from you.”
“Trust me,” he said, “It’s not like I didn’t want to.”
“I couldn’t get the thought of your dick in my mouth out of my mind for days,” she admitted before telling him further, “I lost track of how many times I had to pleasure myself because of it.”
“Your fingers must have needed a vacation,” jested Mick as he continued to cram himself deeply into Athena.
“Who said anything about fingers?” she quickly retorted. Her quip caught him off guard and made him smile.
“I thought about you also,” Mick confessed to her.
“When you were done thinking about me,” Athena asked, “did you have to wipe down your floor mirror too?”
“What!” exclaimed Mick.
It was not uncommon for Mick to masturbate to the thought of previous sexual experiences or even women he found attractive. Oddly enough however, in all his years he had never pondered the possibility that he had been the object of someone else’s sexual fantasy and fulfillment. Mick envisioned Athena laying on her floor spread eagle in front of a mirror, toying herself with a vibrator and squirting all over the looking glass. Athena could tell by Mick’s tightening grip of her legs that the back and forth between the two of them was having the desired effect of spurring his excitement and hopefully hastening the end.
“What!” echoed Athena, who was obviously imitating Mick’s reaction to her question. “What you should have done,” she told him, “was fucked me until you broke me and then left me laying there on the kegs, like some sort of sacrifice upon an altar, covered and drenched in your own offering.”
“Guhhh,” uttered Mick as the first orgasmic wave surged through his petrified wood. His penis was so hard that it was constricting his ability to cum, which made it almost painful to do so. Mick fired into the condom several more times before leaning forward and placing his one forearm against the top of the backrest and gently laying his forehead against Athena’s own. He took a moment to catch his breath before kissing Athena and telling her, “Thank you.” She smiled before saying to him, “I hate to be like this but–time constraints.”
PUBLIC BETA
Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the “A” icon tab in the Story Info Box.
You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.
Click here
Mick slowly backed away and out of Athena who then hopped off the examination table. She immediately gave her patient a visual inspection and observed that his pole was beginning to slowly slouch. She told him, “Mission accomplished, I think you are cured.” “God I hope so,” he replied feeling somewhat relieved.
“What should I do with this?” Mick asked Athena, pointing to the full condom he still sported. As she hurriedly donned her undergarments and scrubs, Athena directed him to deposit the used prophylactic in the trash can behind him. She grabbed two more tissues from the counter and gave Mick’s softening appendage a quick going over before picking up his dressing gown from the floor and putting everything into the same waste bin. “Aren’t you afraid someone might find what’s in there?” inquired Mick as he finished getting dressed.
Athena put her hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eye. “Trust me,” she assured him, “No sane person is going to go routing around in the bottom of a red medical waste bag.” She gave Mick a tender but quick kiss, then handed him the tube of burn ointment. “Apply for seven days as indicated,” she instructed him, “and return to clinic if it worsens.”
Athena unlocked and slid the pocket door open, then walked out of the room with Mick following behind. Halfway back to the front desk they were met by the receptionist who advised the nurse that she had just placed another patient in room three. “Just in the nick of time,” she whispered to Mick as the receptionist disappeared around the corner.
“Thanks again, especially for going the extra mile,” he told Athena with a broad smile.
“See you around,” she replied, “Maybe on St. Patrick’s Day.”
Before Mick could respond, Athena whirled around and scurried off to her next patient.