She tries to speak to me in English. I reply in Japanese and after the routine "Nihongo wo jouzu desu ne" routine she goes into her spiel in her native language.
"Would you like the nurse course or the sailor suit course?" she asks cuddling even closer.
I've never gone in for role-playing, but mutter "what the heck" and ask for the starchy whites.
"That'll be ¥3000 for the costume charge," she says with another beaming smile.
This is starting to add up faster than a Tokyo taxi after 11 p.m.
I figure I might as well get this all out up front so we can get down to business and not play cash register all evening.
"So what other charges will there be?" I ask bluntly, but trying to hide the irritation in my voice.
"Oh well for really special service it's ¥10,000," she says looking into my eyes and giving my inner right thigh a playful squeeze.
I pull the bill out of my wallet, she squeals with delight and runs off to take it to the master.
She pours me a watered-down whiskey and then excuses herself to do the costume change.
A minute later she's back and in full uniform minus the hat and bra. She hands me a stethoscope, rips open her blouse and asks me to check her heartbeat.
I comply trying to remember where to place the instrument. I try both breasts to be sure but there's no sound in my ears. She's either without cardiac action or the stethoscope is a toy. Probably the latter, I decide and return the instrument to the plastic basket where there are other doctor-like things I'm afraid are beyond my medical expertise.
My failure at playing doctor doesn't deter my nurse as she slips off her uniform and then proceeds to get my trousers down around my ankles.
She takes command and quickly convinces me that she knows her way around the territory.
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© Copyright 1995 Urban Desires
