Anthony and Ava

Author's note: Being an echocardiogram tech is a bit like playing slots in Vegas. Days go by when you grind it out, going through the motions and nothing happens out of the ordinary. Then you hit an unexpected jackpot. This is a lengthy and gentle story, in the NC/R category but with more reluctance than non-consent.

This was the first erotic story I started, a year and a half ago, based on personal experience. Somehow it remained on the backburner as I found it easier to finish other, shorter fantasies, but lately I found the motivation to put the wraps on this one and I'm excited to share it with you now. This and Lemon Combo Point are clear favorites of my first dozen works. I hope you enjoy meeting these characters!

*****

Ava

A pretty young woman sat at the dining room table, one arm wrapped around the shoulders of an elderly woman who shared her Persian skin and features. Luxurious black locks spilled down her back and mixed with the graying hair of the precious woman she had called Maamaan since before she could remember. Tears threatened to run from her moist eyes as she replayed imagined scenarios where they'd lost her grandmother forever.

Why this accident had struck her so hard she didn't know; her feelings had always run deep. A hand went over her own breast as she gazed at the old woman's face, taking in every detail. Maybe it was the accumulated loneliness of a tough semester at college and then the unexpected reunification with family that left her emotions so raw.

Her mother looked up from the stove at her eldest daughter, lovingly, and smiled. "Ava, I'm glad you are here."

Her younger sister Adriana sat across the circular table, casually, knees bent up to her chin, focused as usual on the small, bright screen of the phone that never left her hands these days. Occasionally there would be a small bleep when one of the frequent notifications was deftly swiped to the left or right after it popped up. Adriana took things more lightly than did her older sister, as was clear from their body language in this situation, but also in their general life.

It was quiet in the house; aside from the phone's blurbles the only sounds were the gentle plastic-on-metal of their mother stirring the pan in the kitchen and the soft rasp of the grandmother's breathing while she spooned from the bowl of hot soup. Maamaan's movements were slow and deliberate. It was a calm family scene now, but the past 24 hours had been eventful for the eighty-two year old.

Ava was a sophomore at Cornell and had received the text about her grandmother while in class just the previous morning, Wednesday. She lost no time arranging with the professors to skip lectures the rest of the week and all of the next, in effect making her spring break two and a half weeks; an unusual and generous situation she would have enjoyed under different circumstances. There would be hell to pay with her schoolwork when she got back, she knew, but that didn't matter at the moment. Her only thought was that she must see her dear Maamaan and be there for her recovery.

A hurried scrutiny of bus and train schedules followed, which resulted in the fresh-faced college student buzzing down the coast. Hours were spent staring out the window at cloudy skies in contemplation, then here she was on Thursday night in Baltimore having dinner with her family as if she'd never left for college at all.

Ava released her hold on the grandma and looked over to her mother. It hadn't yet been made clear to her well enough, the recent sequence of events. Her orderly mind was in the habit of searching and re-searching for any overlooked danger.

"Tell me again how it went. After the fall yesterday, you went to the ER, then straight into the hospital for the night, and Maamaan came home this morning? Are you done with the hospital now? Is there a follow up?"

"Ava," her sister interrupted. The white stalk of a lollipop dangled from her mouth; her tongue flicking it back and forth. "She's fine. She slipped, we took her in, the docs checked her out, she's fine. She's a tough old Iranian, right Mom?"

"Yes, you two. Adriana is right, it was a minor accident and things are fine now." She reached for a jar in the cabinet, and in response to the smug look the younger sister shot at the older, added, "Ava is also right to be concerned. To answer your question, Ava, we got her home a little after noon today. They want us to see the cardiologist tomorrow—but we don't have to go to the hospital. The appointment is in the morning, at an office west of town."

The mother motioned behind her. "The paperwork is on the counter, in that stack. There's a card with the appointment details in there somewhere. Ava . . . it would be better if I get back to work after missing two days, and Adriana has school as you know, so I was hoping that you could take her by yourself?" Ava's mother raised her eyebrows in a plea.

"Of course, Mom. That's why I came down. But does she have enough energy to get there and back? She really looks wiped out." Ava slid her arm back over the shoulders of the old woman, who looked back quietly above her soup. "Do we need to call an ambulance for transport? Don't people sometimes do that?"

"I don't know. I don't think we need it. I'd rather not have the hassle, or the bill. I'm already afraid of what yesterday's going to cost. She should be fine with dinner and a good night's sleep. In the morning, if you think she's not up to it, you can move the appointment to next week. Just give them a call. They said it wasn't urgent."

Ava thought about what her mother had said. Adriana was still busy with her phone, and Maamaan was spooning up her soup, not following to the conversation. "Wait, did she fall because a heart attack? Is that why the cardiologist?"

"No, the best we can tell is that she just slipped on the back patio step. We're lucky she didn't break a hip. Older bones break so easily, you know." The mother bent down to the kitchen counter and cradled her chin and cheek in one hand, and sighed. Ava thought her mother still looked very pretty, and watched her. "The thing with the cardiologist doesn't seem to be related. When they watched her overnight one of the nurses noticed that she went in and out of A-fib. Atrial fibrillation. A part of her heart isn't beating right."

Ava grew alarmed at this new information. "Do they need to do something? To fix it? Or does she just live with it?" Her mother shrugged and Ava knew she'd have to wait until the morning's appointment to satisfy her anxiety. She was doubly glad she had made the hurried trip down the coast. She caressed her grandmother's cheek, running her palm down to the bony collarbone and chest, wondering if she could feel a beat. She couldn't, but even her anxious brain knew that wasn't cause for alarm. "This heart has beat a lot in its lifetime," she added.

"Yes, your grandmother has had quite a life, if I'm to believe half the stories I've heard." The mother smiled at both her daughters. "You've got her looks, Ava, but I think Adriana got her personality. She's had a lot of adventures."

"Hey! I heard that!" Adriana said as she looked up from her phone. "I got some of those good looks, too, you know! And Ava could use some more of that adventurous personality."

"Hey yourself!" Ava said back in a banter. "I got plenty of personality." She looked over at her sister. "I just hold it in reserve. More classy, like."

Adriana was about to make a retort when their mother cleared her throat and silenced them with a look and a finger point back to the grandmother. It said, silently, girls, you've done this enough before. Tonight is about your grandmother—this fragile woman who we love so dearly—not your squabbling.

The rest of dinner was uneventful, and the evening too. Maamaan went to bed right after the hot soup. Adriana slipped out for some undisclosed adventures of her own. After finding the papers for the cardiologist appointment in the morning, Ava leafed absentmindedly through her schoolwork, accomplishing nothing. Her mind could think only of her grandmother. She put her work to the side, crawled up the carpeted stairs, and flopped at the top landing. Nothing like a familiar paperback with its dog-eared pages from the hallway bookshelf to help her unwind. After rereading her favorite sections for the umpteenth time until her eyes started to droop, she tore herself away from the inertia of the book's seductive fantasy world and made her way to the bathroom.

It was a cute bathroom, smaller than she remembered and decorated in blue. Two sinks in some kind of 1980's plastic formica counter ran below a long horizontal mirror. Growing up, the girls had shared this bathroom together. A lot of high school drama had happened here, mostly Adriana's. Okay, pretty much all Adriana's. Ava smiled. Her own high school experience didn't include many wild adventures or unknowns, just her schoolwork which she largely enjoyed, and reading, which she could never get enough of. Romances were so much easier in the mind than they were in reality; in all the personality tests she'd taken over the years, she always maxed out on the introvert scale.

Just as she started wondering when Adriana would return, checking the time, the door open and shut downstairs. The end of the younger and more adventursome sister's Thursday night out! Ava shook her head. How did Adriana pick up—and discard—boys as easy a girl tries on clothes? Ava was jealous of her lightness of being. Why did she, Ava, make such heavy weather out of any possible relationship with a boy? Surely there must be someone to choose who would be interested in her, one that wasn't like the neanderthals she seemed to attract most often. Maybe even one that would know how to read, she thought sarcastically; at least to value books and culture.

Samson might be one. He was quiet and sat in the back of her literature class with a shock of dark black hair and deep set eyes that were intriguing. Once Ava turned in her seat and thought she caught him looking at her, his eyes scanning from her face to her ass, and she felt a flutter in her stomach as she looked away quickly before he noticed. Maybe she could gather her courage and be like Adriana and try to flirt with him. Get to know him. Maybe even take a little step towards fooling around. He seemed like he had a lean and attractive figure with his jeans and white t-shirt, and black jacket, and Ava had been told enough times that with her looks that she could entice any boy into paying her attention. It's just that she'd never taken the risk to find out.

A bouncing figure emerged up the stairwells and bounded into the bathroom a few moments later, flushed with the sense of accomplishment. Ava raised an eyebrow and looked at her through the long wall mirror. "So . . .?" Ava asked, waiting.

"So!" said Adriana, with a small giggle, trying to hold still.

"Which boy is it this time? Is it still Liam? I thought he was kinda cute."

"Liam? God, no. He's two or three ago. Now it's . . . Chen!" And Adriana put her hand over her heart and pantomimed a swooning-in-love motion.

"Chen?" Ava had her toothbrush in her mouth, but dropped her hands to her hips in surprise and turned to face Adriana directly; her toothbrush almost fell out as her mouth opened. "Really, Chen? Look . . . you are being safe, right? Mom would have a hard time if you did something . . . you know, something not smart out there."

"Ava, relax. We're just going out. I'm not marrying the guy. You need to get out more yourself. Why are you denying the male species access to all of this?" At which point Adriana jumped behind her older sister and playfully grabbed the back of her baggy sweater, pulling the slack tight so the fabric hugged against her chest and stomach.

Ava looked with surprise at her image in the mirror. She wore sweaters year round as a general rule, or loose button-down shirts, because since high school she had been self-conscious about her growing curves. Given her star-quality looks she already attracted more attention in public than she wanted, and she knew enough about guys that highlighting her chest would only make it worse. But there in the mirror, showing clearly through the fabric pulled tight against her skin by her sister, was her unmistakable form. Her slender waist accentuated the bulge of her firm, round breasts that spilled out in an arc to overlap her upper arms.

"Dang, girl!" Adriana was also staring into the mirror at Ava's reflection. "Did you grow a cup size in college? You've got some beauties there."

Ava blushed, wishing her sister would release her hold on her clothing. Or wishing that she had put a bra on. It was a cheat she often got away with; even though her breasts were full they held a nice shape even without support, and it was pleasant to avoid the annoying bands digging into her back. Maybe it was time to let go of that habit, though, as she saw how the sweater didn't hide as much as she expected; however, she didn't make a practice of pulling her sweater this tight. She made a mental note to try to look for some bras whose fit she could stand.

"Turn to the side," Adriana continued, in a bossy voice. "I want you to appreciate this."

"Adriana . . ." Ava pleaded, but her sister didn't relent. She sighed, and did as directed, facing towards the toilet. Adriana took a step to stay behind her sister, tightening her grip, and they both gazed at Ava's profile in the mirror. Her breasts were not overly large but they were round and full, and the rest of her torso was slender, and they projected high from her chest at the level of her biceps, so the overall effect was dramatic. Directly from their midpoint the bulges of the soft tissue at her nipples puckering the fabric out in a conspicuous triangle, aimed just slightly upwards.

"Wow," Adriana said to her big sis. "If the male species only knew."

"Ha! " Ava retorted, recovering her composure and pushing Adriana away. She spun around to face her sister and take her by the shoulders. "I think the male species is being taken care of well enough already by someone else in this family." They laughed. It was obvious to both of them that they shared a deep love, despite their dramatic personality differences. When they were both in high school they had teased each other a lot, and the banter reminded them of those years.

Ava looked into the mirror at herself and leaned in to remove her makeup while Adriana brushed her teeth. Heavy eyeliner, mascara, and red lipstick were Ava's vices; she knew they went well with her Perisan coloring. She was shy in her behavior but took no small pride in looking her best. In a classy way, of course.

"Ava," Adriana said in a more somber tone as she leaned back from the sink and took stock of her own figure, one that was slightly taller than her older sister's, and more slender in chest and hips. She was a pleasant looking girl, wearing a simple black evening dress with a plunging neckline. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

"Oh my God, not this again," Ava put her hands on her head and rolled her eyes. "Of course you are pretty. Just look at yourself. Does it really matter, anyway?"

"No, really. I mean, I get to thinking I'm fine. Then you come home, and God, . . . Ava, look at you! How can I compete?" Adriana slid over and put an arm around her sister, her face alongside. They looked straight into the mirror at the pair of them. "Have you ever thought about modeling or something? Movie star?" Ava raised one eyebrow. Adriana looked up and down Ava's chest. "Lingerie model?" They both laughed.

"You know, I miss you, when you're gone at college."

It wasn't common for Adriana to get serious, and Ava turned to her.

"Kid sis, I miss you too. I've been lonely up there."

"Why don't you get a guy? Jesus Christ, joking aside, Ava, you're so fucking hot you could get any guy you want, if you took the initiative."

"I don't want a guy who wants me for my body."

"Well you don't want a guy who doesn't care about your body either, right? Like think about how you would pick your dream guy. You wouldn't want some plain looking, fat guy, right? You want somebody that turns you on, both in body and brain. I mean, look. All guys are a mix. They can be the greatest guys in the world, but still be horny as hell, right? Can't you allow them that?"

"As long as it's not the only thing they are after."

"It won't be. I'm sure of that. Jesus, maybe your life would be easier if you weren't so fucking good looking, then you wouldn't let it mess with your mind so much."

Adriana had an idea. "What you need is a guy to break the ice with. Just to get you over that threshold, so you can stop worrying so much and start dating. It doesn't have to be your perfect guy. Just a regular, horny guy, no pressure, just some fooling around, and after that you can go find your dream man."

"I don't know," Ava said, but in fact she had been nursing a similar idea for a few months. She had a sexuality that was real, and significant, it was just down deep in a place hard to get to. She yearned for it to get out; to try something, with somebody, and when she was honest with herself she admitted this desire was growing in urgency; it was beginning to undermine her happiness with life. She didn't want to live purely in her world of books and go about her daily life at the U afraid to talk to guys.

It's just that she didn't know how to get started. Putting up a picture of herself on some app and swiping left or right or whatever the hell you were supposed to do with the hot ones just seemed like a world she didn't have anything to do with, and would never have the courage to enter.

*****

Anthony

It had been a rough night, physically and emotionally. The break up with Jennifer didn't start until 2 am and they—really just Jennifer—didn't stop talking and walking and crying until hours later. It wasn't good planning on his part, but in his experience these things never went smoothly. A tiny bit of ragged sleep was all he could manage, then it was time to drag his ass in here for the seven am shift; currently he was slumped over his desk between patients in a familiar exhausted pose, head down and hands up over his eyes and forehead, fingers tangled in the shock of hair above his brow.

A short Filipino woman paused as she walked behind him and couldn't resist running her fingers lightly through his hair at the back of his neck. Her name was Nadine, and she was one of several spunky nurses in the office who took a special liking to this young man. He hadn't cut his hair in a while and it fell down across his shoulders, jet black and thick, with waves near the ends. Some women went a little nuts over it. A lot of women, in fact, like Nadine. With his eyes closed he knew who it was giving him the hallway attention; the brief touch was comforting almost in a maternal fashion. He knew that she had a good heart and wanted the best for him, but sometimes it was a bit much.

"Anthony, Anthony, you can sleep at work all you want, just don't ever, ever cut this beautiful hair!" She played this mostly to the audience of Grace, her fellow nurse, who was working on paperwork at the desk jammed next to Anthony's in what was ostensibly an official cube area, but in reality just a walled-off portion of the hallway. The patients didn't walk past here much—they usually went around the long way clockwise from the lobby past the echo room—so the staff got away with expanding where they could. The office was crowded to the point of overflowing, and in need of major remodeling.

Baltimore cardiology was a small practice just outside the city on the west side near Loudon Park, a nicer part of what was unfortunately a sketchy city. It wasn't exactly America's shining example of peace and prosperity, but the emergency rooms downtown took the brunt of the medical impacts of the area's poverty and violence. Out here in the suburbs it was residential and quiet. Anthony ran the echocardiogram room, at least most of the time. It was his first job out of school and he liked it. Rarely was a new grad given this level of responsibility and independence without a dozen years of experience. Ricardo was the senior tech but he worked only part time now with Doc Michaels as he split shift with the doctor's practice next door.