Blood Bank
Some years ago, I lived in another city and was a regular blood donor. Those were the days before aids paranoia and you didn't have a long interrogation before they put the needle in.
The blood bank just set up some reclining armchairs in an empty office and you just gave them your name and climbed onto one of the chairs. The nurse (nowadays she is called a Phlebotomist) would come over and extend one of the chair's arms out sideways. You laid your own arm on the chair's arm and the nurse would put a cuff on your bicep to check your blood pressure.
My arm was resting there. My hand was palm up with fingers gently curled, as they do when your muscles are relaxed. I need to say here that the nurse was pretty hot and way out of my dating league. She fussed about putting on the blood pressure cuff and pumping the machine to take a measurement. All the time, her boob was resting in my palm, caged by my fingers and rubbing gently whenever she moved her body. My fingers ached to squeeze that boob, but I stayed strong, telling myself that I'd spend the night in Jail if I moved a muscle.
About that time I realised the nurse was speaking to me. "Your blood pressure's a bit high, Joe. How are you feeling?"
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