Having spent all last week obsessing over a cracked tooth, I was reminded again of the peculiar relationship the (generally) women assistants/nurses/hygienists have with (oftentimes) male dentists. Lust can blossom over a gaping jaw and a whining drill, apparently.
The time I became aware of something more than professional courtesy between two these trained specialists was in my childhood. Dr Begley was the family dentist, a mild-mannered man with a moustache and an acerbic wit. Now I see that the jokes weren't for my benefit - they were for Louise, his beautiful blonde assistant.
I loved Louise, but I think Dr Begley was getting all the action. Plus I was only ten. She actually fit the mould of the chaste-but-slutty nurse, with the white dress, white hose and full bob. Maybe she modelled for bedroom attire catalogues in her spare time. In any case, she was all that and a bag of chips, and I think it wasn't coincidental that there was always a gap between the Doctor's appointments. Never did I ever see a patient waiting after me, nor someone limping out, sore and pale before me.
It's a guess, of course, but one can pick up much from subtle looks between man and woman when their faces are six inches away.
A dualistic nature pertains to these dental-office relationships. Not only does the competence of the assistant/nurse/hygienist need to be there, but they are also completely subservient to the god-dentist. My question is whether this extends to their romantic lives as well, or whether the demure woman turns domme when the last patient leaves for the day.
Nurse romance cover from here [link]
