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was on his knees from off the chair. "Ohhh, I feel another stool coming!" "NO- THINGS - is right. Feel these babies!" holding her breasts, she offered them. "Really, feel'em. I love this. There must be milk in these for all the world." "We'll get to that - in the course of things,... time,... time - but actually the milk comes later. The gown is behind you, Nora. Please put it on. You can sit here," and a very practiced medical session followed. "But," the doctor confessed, "I was sopped with sweat. On her next visit she informed me that she went straight to a photographer following that first visit. Two months later, one of those pictures was the August centerfold that became hoarded by, I think, every male alive." Denise Mason, gynecologist she was, asserted, "No, not all men, just by you. All men are not that adolescent." Maybe so, but, the table had come alive with a buzz of calculations of let's see that must be ... I was a so and so at that time, must be when... and all the male faces present lit in succession, beaming in surprised enlightenment. "I know who she is! Remember her? The August red head! Oh my God! She was BEAUTIFUL! Biggest tits in the world. And what a body! Her hair! Yes, definitely, both ends." They were all agreeing, except Frank, who was quietly neutral, as usual, but perplexed. Any expression was, on him, unusual. Marcus added to the uproar, "and the sweetest girl you have ever met. She simply had no hang ups about her body. Clothed or nude was equally comfortable to her. She wasn't a show off. She was just simply stunning." Despite all the professional credits about this cafeteria table, all the scientific training, the professional ideals, this particular flesh connection raised Dr. Macaluso's