The Nurse's Uniform Pt. 16

The skirt was tight with a small, white apron. As with all the uniforms Emma had designed, it was almost impossibly tight, although the slight indentations and bumps of the taffeta material meant that VPLs wouldn't be seen. Thus, the black, silk thong with the see through pouch and the thin slither of lace that snaked between the girl's cheeks that she supplied, could be worn. Emma had learned that whilst going commando had its moments for most of her nurses and consultants, it shouldn't be a full time mode of dress as was the case with the 'white uniform.'

She also provided the girls with a bra. Made of the finest black net, it was smooth, just about covered the girl's breasts and provided the modicum of support that many needed, but hid nothing. Hence, Sammi's nipples could clearly be seen through it when she wasn't wearing the dress, but when she was, as she was now, the dress hid the pink mysteriously intriguing shadow of her aureoles but not their indentation, especially when they were agitated, as Sammi's were now.

Black, lacy-topped holdups were also supplied. Emma had toyed with going the whole hog and reverting to suspenders and stocking, but felt they would be too obvious and, too fiddly.

"So it looks like that's it Sammi," Mike said.

"Surely not," she replied standing in front of the small glass desk that held his mobile phone, laptop, blackberry and filofax. Mike considered large desks unnecessary for him and challenging to the patients. He was sunk back in a small, black leather chair, his elbow was resting on the desk supporting his head. He was ashen; he looked awful and felt worse.

"I'm afraid so, I can't practice without the INT licence, well at least not to the level I need to give the Saudi's and the German's their returns, so they won't provide the rest of the funding."

"Can't we use the old methods?" She asked.

"Yes of course, but that would never produce the profit level the whole deal has been worked on."

"So what's it all mean?" Sammi asked standing there feeling rather helpless.

They were in Mike's new consulting room at the Windsor clinic which had opened its doors to the first patients just two weeks ago. They had hardly got going, in fact Sammi hadn't even had to do anything with a patient yet.

"We'll have to close the business immediately."

"Why so soon?"

"My licence from the BPS is based on me practising using INT. No INT, no license, no clinic, no business. Bollocks."

"I see."

"Anyway, sod it, let's have a drink."

Sitting side by side on the low black couch nearly two bottles of wine later, things didn't seem so bad.

Mike had phoned Emma as the representative of the main backers the Al Khorensis and she said she would let them and the Germans know.

"Is Sammi there?" She asked.

"Yes."

"Put her on then."

They talked for a few moments with Sammi mainly saying yes and ok and sure, Emma was clearly doing most of the talking, Mike saw.

"She wants to talk to you," the young blonde said, handing Mike the phone.

"Look Mike, don't worry too much, I know you have lost a lot, but I'm sure that between the Khorensis and me we can come up with something."

"What do you mean?"

"Well we need someone to run La Crème and a few other ventures I am involved in with the Saudis."

"I'm a fucking psychiatrist Emma, not a businessman."

"Yes Mike I am only too aware of that, but at present you are looking at being a bankrupt fucking psychiatrist isn't you? A wealthy businessman has some advantages over that you know."

"True, sorry."

"That's ok, don't worry."

Mike put the phone down and turned back towards where Sammi was sitting. He gulped. She always looked great, but in the tight uniform sitting on the low sofa, with the hem of her skirt having ridden up her legs so he could see the start of her stocking tops, she looked even more so. Why a glimpse of those, a flash of panties or a hint of a nipple is so alluring to men really is a mystery isn't it? And at the moment as Mike walked over to where she was sitting and looked down on his young nurse he could see two of those things. The almost immediate hardening of his knob told him that he desperately wanted to see the third.

There had always been a chemistry between them. Right from the first moment they met, when Sammi had knocked a cup of coffee over on the table in the reception of where he then worked, they had both felt it. Mike had imagined he was shagging her when he had sex with his ex Clare and Sammi had masturbated so many time when she lived in the flat with Roni, thinking that it was Mike's cock in her pussy and not her fingers or vibrator.

Roni had joked with her about it as had Emma, before she and Sammi had become a number. But there were reasons nothing happened. Mike's vow not to mix business with pleasure and certainly not to fuck the staff, and Sammi's distaste and aversion to getting involved with married or attached men. As he looked down at Sammi and as she looked up at him their minds were thinking similar thoughts. Clare has gone and Mike no longer employs Sammi. Mike is not attached and they are no longer business colleagues!

Fucking Sammi would not be mixing business with pleasure and fucking Mike would not be harming a long-term relationship.