On a 10+, Nicky, Julie, and Coco are eager to take things inside.

Nicky turns her head a little, fixing a glare at you with her left eye. Her lips close into a flat line and she narrows her eyes in an appraising look. She fishes the vaporizer out of her shirt pocket, next to the sky-blue handkerchief, takes one deep draw, and puffs out a cloud of vapor. The vaporizer goes back into her shirt pocket. She tugs out the handkerchief.

"Hey Nurse, " Nicky says to you. She tucks the light-blue handkerchief partway into her right back pocket, letting a tail dangle, and hitches up her jeans. "I gotta condition maybe wants an examination from a pro like you. And I make you out as having a condition I know better than you. Happy to look at it up close and personal. Or just look." She gestures up and forward with an open hand. "Right this way."

Columbia bounces on her heels. "Nicky likes to watch!" she says. She squeezes her lips tightly closed. Her shoulders tremble. Little sounds come from her nostrils, like she has a trapped giggle trying to escape.

Nicky gives her a stare and Coco wilts.

"Co, wouldja not?" Nicky says.

Columbia makes sad puppy eyes at Nicky.

"Awww, all right, whatever." Nicky says. "Heh. If it comes down to it, we got plenty of ways to put a cork in you."

"Your tongue?" Coco's giggle finally escapes.

"I was thinking a bar towel, but ya right, Coco, no shortage of tongues, hey?" Nicky says.

Columbia sticks out her tongue at Nicky and wiggles the wet pink tip at her friend.

"You too, nursies!" Columbia insists. "Yes!" she adds, as Julie joins the tongue-wiggling party.

After Julie squeezes your hand , you say, "All right, all right!" and join the others in showing some tongue.

You wonder if you've walked into the wrong movie.

It's the longest, most awkward thirty seconds you've spent in company. Then Columbia makes a funny noise and you meet her eyes. You can't help laughing behind your own wiggling tongue. Nicky has the silliest, wide-eyed grimace on her own face, with her head tilted to one side. Julie makes some "heh-heh-heh" sounds, her own laugh strained as she tries to keep wiggling her tongue. Columbia sways and bumps into Julie. Julie staggers, and you firm up your grip, keeping her upright.

Nicky's left as the last one still wiggling her tongue. She takes a deep breath and bows deeply forward, rising again to show that her tongue is stowed away, but her lips are curled in a little smirk and her eyes are twinkling.

Nicky winks at you. "Go mom," she says. "I knew you had it in you." She grins. You smile back.

"Now let's give it another try, since Gloria asked so nicely," Nicky says. "Stay cool, Co'." Nicky takes Columbia by the hand. "All aboard!"

The young woman in the triangular color-patch coverall stands straighter, shakes her head left and right, and rolls her shoulders. Shake the sillies out. Columbia takes Julie by the hand you're not holding. Julie gives you another squeeze. Nicky nods, seeing her early entrants ready to go. Keys jingling, Nicky leads you all through the back door of The Crater before opening time.

It's cooler inside, and the olfactory notes inside the back door are less overwhelming than the battling vape flavors outside. You scent bleach, pine oil, cheap liquid soap, and more faintly, cooking grease and beer. It feels familiar, like a flashback to sometime, someplace. When could that have been for you? Just starting college, maybe, before pre-nursing took over your world, and your closest connection to youth culture was the sparkly stickers you kept in your desk to award whenever you finished a page in the Human Anatomy Coloring Book or finished your test preparation notes. Sometime around then.

Oh.

You don't remember her name. It was night, at the end of a long DJ set. She'd had a date when she came in, but he'd wandered off an hour ago and she'd been dancing in a little knot of people that opened out to a circle. The DJ had called out "Last Call! Last Set", and she had caught your eye, the only wallflower left, tall and gawky and unfashionable, not grown into your height or your face. She had waved you over to join the circle of dancers. You remember the songs. "Heart of Glass", "You're No Good", "If Looks Could Kill", and finally "Dreamweaver."

It was a place like this, years ago, far away, before nursing and hospitals and baby Jillian, before Vincent even. You remember standing close together, touching her, in the dark. You remember your pulse beating in your ears. You remember holding her tightly, feeling her heartbeat through the thin fabric of your shirts. Were you wearing a bra that night? You must have been. Or maybe not, if you didn't think you were going to dance. She wasn't wearing one, you know. Did you actually kiss? You don't remember. But you remember the cool, dark corner of the hall next to the kitchen that had closed three hours before, the scents of cheap cleaners and deep-fry oil.

Where was she now?

You startle back to the present when Julie opens her hand. You're in a back hall, between two doors, one labeled WOMEN and another that must, under the scribbles and stickers, have once said MEN. There's music from round the corner, a light-hearted dance tune with a pulsing beat, not loud. From the same direction, you hear scrapes and bumps, chairs being rearranged over a concrete floor.

Nicky opens the scribbly door and jerks her chin toward it. Columbia's first in. Julie looks at you and raises her eyebrows. You smile and nod.

"After you," Nicky whispers in your ear.

As promised, the former men's restroom in The Crater is clean and unoccupied. Its aesthetic combines lost-in-time neglect and bulletproof institutional minimalism. splattered broadly with whimsical, political, and sexual graffiti.

"So, Nicky, you're going to be on shift soon?" you say. Tilting your head and giving her an appraising squint like she looked you over with. "We'd better not keep you waiting for your examination. Nicky, would you pull down your jeans and sit up on the counter there, next to the sink?"

Roll +HOT (+3) (+1 Hot, +1 Forward, +1 Lesbian) to TELL HER you want to EAT HER.

8 + 3 = 11, on a 10+, Nicky is more than willing, take +1 Forward to EAT HER.

"Sure thing," Nicky says. She's wearing button-fly jeans. It'll be a minute.

"Do you have any sensitivities to latex or glycerine, Nicky?" you ask.

"Nope, all good, Nurse," Nicky says.

"Julie, will you glove me up?" you ask. "Oh, here. Columbia, hold my purse open for Julie. Yes, like that."

Columbia holds your purse while Julie takes a pair of gloves from your first-responder kit. Coco purses her lips. Her expression shifts quickly and unselfconsciously as she drinks in the vision of two real-life nurses getting ready to play doctor on her friend.

Nicky works open the last button and pushes her jeans down. Light blue boxer briefs underneath. Fly-front, a men's style. Down they go. The soft shine and supple rippling of the fabric say silk to you, or a really good synthetic knit.

"Oh," Julie says.

Nicky chuckles. "The boxers aren't just for the look," she says. "Baby here needs her space."

"Oh," you say. "If that's your condition, Nicky, I'd have to describe it as beautiful."

Beautiful. Nicky's vulva has remarkable presence, with thick, crinkly inner labia and clitoral hood pouting proudly from between broad, prominent outer labia, her untrimmed hair looking curly, fuzzy, pettable, not so dense as to hide her skin.

"Come take a closer look, Nurse," Nicky says.

"Oh god oh god oh god," Columbia burbles. "Why's that not me?" But she seems content to watch.

"Knee pad under the sink," Nicky prompts.

"You're well prepared here," you say.

"I put it there," Nicky says.

Your eyes lock for a moment. You nod at Nicky. You feel your smile broaden to a grin.

"Yee haw, Gloria," Nicky says. "Give me a really good examination."

The knee pad is where Nicky said it would be. It could be a garden helper for weeding, or a cleaning helper for getting down on a hard floor to scrub it.

Or for kneeling on the concrete floor of a former men's restroom in a lesbian bar in front of a vulva of grandly sculpted curves, first among her sisters, biggest and boldest among them.

You settle down in front of Nicky.

"Say hi to Baby," Nicky says.

"Ohgodohgodohgod," Columbia breathes from behind you.

You hear a "snap!" as Julie opens a little bottle of lubricant. Since you only have eyes for Baby, for Nicky's vulva, Julie takes one hand at a time, gently holding your wrist as she lubricates the fingertips of one hand, and then the other.

And then you're close enough to breathe in. Your mouth waters.

Worth it, worth it, already worth it.

Your moisture rises. lubricating your own vulva, still covered, still hidden behind the centerline of your white nurse's trousers.You swallow and clear your throat. "Let me warm up my fingertips a little," you tell Nicky, folding your hands together, then rubbing them against each other. "Does anything need special attention?"

Nicky looks down from where she sits up on the counter next to the sink. She tilts her head and licks her lips.

Those eyes. That gaze. You can't look away.

"Well," she says.

You have 4 XP, +1 Hard, +1 Hot, +0 Cool, -1 Control, Lesbian, and Truth.

Roll +HOT(+2)(+1 Hot, +1 Forward) for you and Nicky, to EAT HER: 7+2=9.
On a 7-9, choose two:

• You eat her ass.
• She cums, +1 XP.
• Take +1 forward.
• No trouble or complication.