Tooting Tryst
"Dentist Dr. Ifeoma's last patient of the day is her ex—and when the sedation kicks in, she realizes the thick Nigerian hasn't stopped fantasizing about her for five years."
Of all the dental surgeries in Tooting, Chukwuemeka walked into hers.
"Chuks," Dr. Ifeoma breathed. "What are you—"
"My regular dentist retired. Didn't know you worked here." His eyes traveled over her. "You look good, Ify."
Five years since their breakup. Five years since he'd walked away. And here he was, in her chair, looking at her like he used to.
"Let's just... get this done."
The sedation was for a root canal. Standard procedure.
But Chuks started talking. The gas made people honest.
"I dream about you," he mumbled. "Still. Every week."
"Chuks—"
"Your body. Those curves. God, you were perfect."
She should have stopped listening. Should have focused on the procedure.
"I was a fool to leave you. Biggest mistake of my life."
He was still babbling when the procedure ended.
"I want to touch you again. Want to feel those thighs around me. Want to hear you say my name the way you used to."
The words went straight to her core.
"The sedation will wear off soon," she said, professionally.
"Then let me say this while I still can. I love you. Never stopped."
She sent the staff home early.
When Chuks came fully awake, she was sitting across from him, arms crossed.
"Did you mean what you said?"
He blinked. "What did I say?"
"That you still dream about me. That you want me. That you never stopped loving me."
His face told her everything.
"I meant every word."
She locked the surgery door.
"Then prove it."
He crossed the room and kissed her like five years hadn't happened. His hands found her waist, her hips, all the curves he'd been dreaming about.
"God, I've missed this body."
"Then stop talking and remind yourself."
The dental chair had never been used like this.
She straddled him, her white coat open, his hands everywhere. He remembered exactly what she liked—knew where to touch, how hard, what words to say.
"That's it, Ify. Come for me. Let me see you."
She came with his name on her lips, just like old times.
Then it was his turn.
She dropped to her knees in her own surgery, gave him what she'd been denying both of them for five years.
"Fuck—Ifeoma—just like that—"
When he finished, they were both panting.
"Same time next week?" he asked. "For a... checkup?"
"Book an appointment at reception." She grinned. "I'll make sure to clear my schedule."
Tooting's best dentist had just found a reason to love her job again.