Post 193: Milk Date

Melissa handed me a mug as she sat down across my desk from me. “Thanks,” I replied, trying to look relaxed and smile as I watched her get settled. It was Friday morning, and this was our weekly coffee d-…meeting. She’d come to my office, this time, with a cup for me and a big smile. Her skirt was short, her ribbed sweater green and tight. I’d just seen, the night before, how Olivia Henders was going to be listed as “Clinical Director” on our website and I was mad, but I have to admit the sight of Melissa in that sweater distracted me and was slaking my ire.

I took a sip, and my brow furrowed. This wasn’t coffee.

“It’s just milk this morning,” she told me straightaway, brushing a lock of thick dark hair away from her face, sitting up to perfect posture, “with the way your stomach is, no coffee today.” Her eyes glittered in good humor, catching a beam of early sun from the window behind me. “I warmed it up for you.”

“Great…” I groaned, though put up no argument as I took another sip, then put the mug down next to my glasses. Maybe it is a good idea. Coffee can be tough, and I don’t want to upset my gut again.

Melissa giggled, and already I was feeling myself thickening in my pants. I had woken late again this morning, and didn’t have time to jerk off as I normally would, usually to pictures of her. Morning, lunchtime, after patients and then a couple times before sleep: that had become my usual schedule these days, as crazy as it sounds. I needed to, just to stay sane. And, when I didn’t have the chance, like this morning, I was more than likely going to have troub-

“Is it hard?” she asked, causing my breath to catch.

“Eh- what??” I asked.

“Is it hard?” she repeated, with friendly concern, “Cutting back on coffee? You drank too much, when I first met you…”

Oh, haha, I thought, relieved, that.

“…but I’ve been sneaking more and more milk in,” she continued, smiling mischievously, “Have you noticed?”

“oh, uh, yeah…” I replied, wanly, again feeling my cock swell. When we had time alone, more and more Melissa was tending to fall into this ‘Office Mommy’ mode, coddling my weaknesses, taking care of me in my shortcomings, and I was invariably finding it more and more exciting. Like a simp I would just sit back and let her treat me like a child. I realized that about myself and it made me writhe in self-reproach; this morning was no exception.

Anyway, down to brass tacks. Though I’m sure she knew I wanted to talk about this ridiculous Olivia thing, Melissa went right into other orders of business. These Friday sit-downs I liked to use as a time to touch base on how things were going; apparently she was going to give me an update on construction. The teams - and there were a lot of them - were continuing to work morning, noon, and night, three shifts. I’d heard them, at all hours, doing demolition, bringing in supplies and fixtures and equipment. “They’re, like, ahead of schedule for the new clinical study wing, the, uh, astetical department,” she listed, “the new second floor stuff is coming along and believe it or not the pool is almost finished.”

The Pool?!!

It all made my head spin. How was this happening? To my practice? How had I let it careen so far out of control?? And so quickly?? Part of me, I think, never thought this would come to pass. I figured something would go wrong, somewhere, probably with money, and the new construction would never materialize. Things would just stay the way they were, easy and stable. But…apparently not. Everything was changing, and it was beginning to scare the shit out of me.

Melissa, if she could see my distress and anxiety, gave no clue this morning. She was going on to review how all the new staff was doing.

“They’re excited to expand into new space, get some new offices, really start working on what they were hired for,” she explained, after having done a rundown of who’s who, their duties. Why the hell do we need a “Sales Executive”, I almost blurted, or a marketing department?? There’s just so many of them! Many of these women, yes, were hired to support the workings of the new study, or our new aesthetics department. But they - what was that other one? ‘Brand Development’? - right now didn’t have a lot to do.

“It is a little crowded around here…” I commented, remembering what it looked like in the accounting office. Kathy, Angie, Mallory and Nicole, Katie and Emily, all huddled around three small desks. The hallways, crawling with idle new trainee medical assistants, interns. The breakroom filled with girls girls girls. The air was thick with them.

“So, yeah, we’re just waiting for the new offices to open, the study to start,” she concluded, “then we’ll need to probably hire more girls…”

“I...I, uh-, Melissa…” I began, not knowing where to start. More girls?? It boggled my mind, the machinations that were happening all around me, the foolishness of this exponential growth. We were a medical practice!! A geriatrics office, and a small one at that!! My mouth gaped, as I tried to find words, my lips quivered and my throat had already caught.

She saw my consternation, and pressed on. “Shh, sweetie, don’t worry,” she assured me, “M-...Olivia will be our Clinical Director, so it won’t be any more work for you. She’ll take care of the medical side, I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Yeah, about that…” I began, finding my voice as my adrenaline rushed, hearing the name, “Whose decision was that? Why wasn’t I consulted?? Is this some joke of Sheryl’s..??” If, indeed, my wife’s friend Olivia was now our “Clinical Director”, I was being relegated to something...well...different. Pushed aside. It was normally me who would oversee all our patient care, plan and organize our clinics and resources to best help our patients. But, if those responsibilities were going to become Olivia’s….what would I be doing??

“Oh, honey, I can see you’re upset, I know you’re confused, maybe have some questions,” Melissa said. with a maddeningly patronizing tone. I was just about to spit out more spleen when just then I heard the door behind her open. “She...she said she wanted to explain it herself,” Melissa said, starting to stand as someone stepped into the room.

I looked up to see Olivia, my wife’s friend of the past year or so, enter into my office. It was surreal, seeing her here, especially under these circumstances. I watched as, with the confidence of a woman who knew she commanded the room, she stepped in to greet Melissa. I began to stand, but quickly found myself thinking better of it. While she was always tall, it struck me just how statuesque Olivia looked, and I flushed as I realized that I wasn’t standing because I didn’t want to feel…dwarfed. She was certainly not Melissa’s equal in height, but I was struck not only by her size but by the similarities between the two women, how Olivia carried herself. ”Hi, sweetie,” Olivia chirped, as the two kissed cheeks. Again, odd. This was too familiar. How well did these two know one another?

Without another word, just a smile and a little wave to me, Melissa was out the door and closing it behind her. I was left awkwardly half-standing behind my desk, not knowing if I should shake Olivia's hand or have her thrown out of the building. .

“You look good, J,” she said, a cold glimmer in her eyes and a twist to her smile as she focused her attention on me, coming to stand in front of the chair in front of my desk. She was eyeing me, taking in how small I looked, planning what to say. She knew I was on edge.

“Have a seat,” she directed, in a voice that belied a new authority, “let’s chat…”