We started kissing in the kitchen. I was still in my suit from work, a dark navy one with brown oxford shoes and a light brown belt. She had just come from the hospital – but before her shift had ended, she had changed her underwear at my request. For work, doubtless something functional, beige or cream. But now, as I kissed her neck, I could see the top of her B-cup, pink and black lace.
I ran my hand down the curve of her ass, feeling the thong underneath, matching. I knew, because I'd bought them for her. With my left hand, I reached up and lovingly undid her pony tail. I could hear her softly breathing in my ear as my right hand slipped under her hospital scrub and found her perfect stomach. We'd met on OKCupid a few months ago and started hooking up. She had gotten busy on the night schedule at one of the big hospitals in the city, and I had a big case dumped on my desk, so our relationship was largely text based for a while. She would text me quick shots of her in the on-call room, and dirty requests. She wanted to know when I was masturbating, and we'd masturbated together on the phone a few times. We had some basic ideas of boundaries, but I know that she'd been with a few other guys. I'd asked her, over text, to tell me about the encounters.