Now she had snuggled close, putting her head down on my lap. Obviously, she doesn't realize what that does to a man who has been unwillingly celibate for three years. I had to concentrate hard to prevent the 'gallant reflex' from raising.

It was nice to be close to someone, though; the Doctor's comments on my A-21 form kept me from participating in any mixed activities beyond meals. Just being able to socialize with her and Marta was a real treat. And the hug I got from Marta seemed to promise so much more... although maybe that was just my horniness speaking. I really am in bad mental shape, needing physical contact from the opposite sex.

Her words stopped my mind in mid-flight; fucking? No *wonder* she bore such animosity towards Doctor Polock! Her anger was based in that pain, the rape pain.

The Doctor was interested in his daughter? Sexually? Wow... I wonder how she learned that, pillowtalk, maybe? Another facet of that jerk's sick mind. I KNEW he was not sexually normal, the ways he touched me sometimes. And now he had his son joining him in practice. For the sake of so many others, I hope his mental problems aren't inherited.

She had run down from her rapid-fire discussion, leaving me an opening to get in a word or two. "No, I've never met his son, never even knew he had kids. He is always just barely professional with me; afraid, I suppose, that I'll clock him again. He always spent as little time with me as possible, just enough to make the government minimums as 'treatment'."

I pulled her up next to me, her head on my shoulder. "It's nice to be able to look into your beautiful eyes at last, without that door glass being in the way. And to see how pretty and shapely you are. You're a foxy, desirable, and intelligent woman. I'm looking forward to getting to know you better as we become better friends."

My wording had been so careful; I didn't want her to think I only had a sexual interest in her, that I was just "Doctor" version 2. She *is* intelligent, and with a little help in dressing and makeup, she can be quite foxy.

That made me stop and think. "What size are you? Shoe size? Dress, jeans, shirt? You're going to need some changes of clothes here." I could call Chester; Marta left her phone in case of emergency, and she could do some shopping for both of us. Glad I gave them the plastic.