Bust in

“I really am OK,” Kris assures you. She pulls away from you to stand up on her own. “See?”

“Hush, you’re an athlete,” you reply, looking up and down the hall. The place is so dead. It’s almost eerie that it’s so still and quiet with the pale, afternoon sun coming through the windows. You take your library card out of your purse and easily get the door open, holding it for Kris.

“Milady,” you say, smiling up at her. She is very tall. You never noticed before. She towers over you.

She sighs and enters the infirmary, and you shut the door.

“Sit,” you say, patting the table.

“Since when are you a nurse?” she asks grumpily, sitting down and wincing. She really is in pain.

She watches curiously as you go straight to the medicine cabinet and open it, looking through the things inside.

“Oh,” she says, watching you. “You didn’t come in here for me.”

“I did, of course,” you reply distractedly, taking several bottles of aspirin and putting them in your purse. “But you may have noticed how quickly our girls go through this.”

Kris looks guilty. She must have been planning to have a few drinks tonight herself. Well, if she has a headache in the morning, CCL House will have aspirin. Someone has to think about these things, and the others are not that person. Only you are that person.

You snap your purse shut and go over to Kris. “Where were you hit?”

She gestures vaguely at her abdomen. “She punched me.”

“Alene?” you guess.

“How’d you know?”

“They’re furious at you,” you reply, starting to unbutton her blouse.

“Is this necessary?” she asks as you open it.

“Of course. It’s common sense to make sure nothing’s broken. If you need to see a doctor, you don’t want to wait until tomorrow. You need to know now, while everybody’s still open,” you murmur, leaning in and reaching around her torso.

She stiffens. That’s not very CCL out of her. You look up at her, and she’s blushing.

You don’t know Kris very well. You didn’t bring her to CCL. It was an upset when CCL got her instead of CGH, and you wonder if she isn’t one of these girls who ended up in CCL by mistake.

“Or maybe you just want to go to a doctor?” you ask, resting your hands gently on her waist. Her skin is smooth and warm. She’s extremely fit, but sitting like this she still has some little rolls on her belly, and it’s very cute. You do like tall girls.

“No,” she says nervously. “It’s OK.”

“OK.” You smile at her and reach your hands around again to unhook her bra. Her enormous breasts spring free heavily as you set the bra aside. She’s an E-cup, and her nipples are as big as the palms of your hands. If they were hard, they’d probably stick out an entire inch.

Kris looks away, unable to meet your gaze. She puts her arms under her breasts and lifts them out of the way.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. You didn’t expect her to be quite this alluring, even if she’s not doing it on purpose. You don’t mind. Her skin smells like soap, and her hair is still damp. She has a few moles on her belly and chest, and just a hint of white panty line is visible at the waist of her jeans.

With the shirt open, the bra off, and the boobs out of the way, you can make sure that she hasn’t cracked a rib or something. If she has, you will have to tell the police. That will not be fun.

Your fingers are still resting on her skin. She’s getting redder by the second.

Be casual and chatty?

Or be quiet and tender?