Doctor's Orders by Daniella Divine Page A

at all!’
    Hey, stop laughing….I was trying to be serious. Brad
stood up and straightened his clothing, and I felt obliged to do
the same. He bent down and kissed me quickly on the cheek, the kind
of kiss you give your grandmother when you say goodbye. ‘I’m
sorry…I’d better go. I’ll call you on Monday…about work, that
is.’
    Within a few seconds, he had regained his composure,
and became the confident and self-assured Brad once more. He
hurried out of the door, and was gone.
     
    ***

    Well, that was a
bummer. One minute it looked like I was about to get an injection
of alpha male directly into my system, and the next I’m sitting at
home alone with no dick in sight. I was really pissed off.
    My brief romance with Brad was all over.
    What had it lasted…a few hours? Longer than many of
my encounters with men, granted, but we didn’t even get to the good
bit. Anyway, it was more than that. Brad wasn’t just another hunk
of male hormones. He was something special, and…well, I guess I had
been hoping something special might happen, although I wasn’t
really sure what.
    And now I had scared him off. He was going to call
me on Monday, but only about work. In other words, he had finished
with me before we had even got properly started.
    Bummer. I was all on my lonesome again.
    What now? I scoured the kitchen for chocolate and
found a large bar of Cadbury’s Crunchie hidden behind the
microwave. Ellen is one of those annoying women who can eat huge
quantities of chocolate without putting on any weight whatsoever.
But she also knows I will binge on her chocolate supplies if I have
a bad day, so she hides it in obscure locations. It’s a kind of
chocolate arms race. Ellen is always looking for better places to
hide it, and I am always decoding her defence system and locating
it. If it wasn’t for all the exercise I got between the sheets, I
would probably be packing a few extra pounds by now.
    I plonked myself in front of the TV with the
chocolate and half a bottle of cheap red wine. I began flicking
through the channels. Surprise, surprise…nothing worth watching.
Just re-runs of American sitcoms and embarrassingly bad reality TV
shows. They should have tried making a reality TV show about my
life…that would be a real eye opener. I bet I could raise the
channel ratings a bit. Never mind The Farmer Wants a Wife –
how about The Lady Wants Some Dick . Ha ha! And if you said
‘what lady?’ then shame on you.
    I was depressed. Here I was, a young woman watching
TV alone on a Saturday night like an old spinster. This just wasn’t
good enough. I was still on something of a high from the jump in
the morning…and still pissed off at not getting a jump this
evening. Fuck this…time to go and hit the town. I had to do
something to cheer myself up. An hour later, I was showered, tarted
up and dressed to kill. Short skirt, low-cut top, and ‘please fuck
me’ heels. I was on the rebound, and determined to bounce back in
style. Go fuck yourself Dr. Brad Fucking Bigshot King. You’re not
the only man in town!
    I’m so glad men think with their dicks. It makes
life so much easier when you are in the market for a little muscle.
If you dress a little on the hot side, all you have to do is go to
a suitable bar, then take your pick from the guys that start
hitting on you. Guys must wake up in the morning with a neon light
flashing in their heads that says ‘Fuck Pussy…Must Fuck Pussy…’
    There is a bar just a hundred metres or so from my
apartment that is popular with rugby players. They have huge plasma
TVs that show every sports match you could ever want to see, and
the whole bar is decorated with trophies, match-winning shirts and
all kinds of footie paraphernalia. So you are pretty much
guaranteed to get a whole bunch of hunky rugby-playing types there
on a Saturday night. And this night was no exception. It was busier
and rowdier than usual, and I soon found that an English college
team was in town, doing