Girl in a Mask

The vocation of dental assistant is a fairly straightforward occupation. The qualified dentist interacts directly with the patient and achieves the accolades while the assistant lurks in the background, but actually does most of the real work. Behind the scenes, we do the setting up, cleaning, stocktaking, imaging and other miscellany. It's laborious, but not mentally taxing.

I never held career aspirations to work in oral health care, but after dropping out of college and falling in and out of insecure hospitality jobs, a suburban dental practice picked me up. Over the last few years I mastered the role and managed to keep the boss happy.

The dental practice was owned by Mr Baum. Most dentists insist on being called "doctor", but Mr Baum was old school and claimed that he didn't deserve the title since he wasn't actually a Doctor of Medicine. He was inching closer to retirement, and I think he planned to sell the practice on to another dentist, but he hadn't yet managed to close a deal.

The practice had three patient rooms, but we only ever used two of them. Mr Baum operated from one room, and the other was used by a rolling succession of graduate dentists. I'm not sure if it was the level of pay, the lack of interesting cases or better prospects elsewhere, but each new dentist only seemed to stay for about nine months.

Rosa was the other dental assistant. She was born in Colombia, but she had lived locally for most of her life. Her personality was a curious mix of the two cultures. At work she was formal, exacting and a perfectionist. Outside of the operating theatre she was much more relaxed, happy to drink and party and open to discuss her fantasies and sex life.

Although she was marginally younger than me, Rosa was the more experienced assistant, and she actually held a formal qualification. I assisted Mr Baum, and Rosa was assigned her to the junior dentists, presumably to transfer her knowledge to up-skill the new professionals.

Rosa and I worked a roster where we saw each other most days, but our respective dentists took Thursdays and Fridays off. Saturday mornings were always the busiest times with school children filling the appointments. Each week there would be one evening dedicated to moulding the mouth-guards, and we'd take it in turns to stay back and complete the job.

Across the health industry, safety equipment like goggles and face masks have been long-used measures but with the advent of COVID, dentistry was at the front-line of risk. You can imagine all those open mouths with contaminated air and saliva being constant threats to everybody's wellbeing.

Flimsy surgical masks had been the standard practice, but a revolution in protective equipment came about with COVID, and we all transitioned to the P95 style of air-tight face masks. Those are the ones that look like a rigid cup against your cheeks, with an air filter built into them, and a snug fit with a seal against the skin.

As essential services workers, our dentistry practice continued to operate right through the depths of the pandemic. The four of us working at the shop would be routinely tested, and even though we were supposed to keep masks secured right through the day, Rosa and I would take them off during our breaks, when we'd hang out, eat lunch and chat.

Rosa would always regale me with tales of her social life and in times before lock-down we would sometimes visit a nearby bar after work. She was a cut above me and I often found myself staring at her cute body and curvy butt, snugly encased in the tight white skirt of her uniform. She would tell me all about the guys she hooked up with and the fun times she had, and I continually wished that I could be part of her romantic life. In reality I had resigned myself to the fact that I would never make it to boyfriend status, so I decided to be the best friend possible and just enjoy the stories.

The banter started out a long time ago when Rosa brought a cold sausage for her lunch. As we chatted she steered the conversation to a successful hook-up that she'd orchestrated the previous weekend that resulted in her following a guy home to perform a blowjob. She momentarily gave an animated demonstration with the sausage and it was so hot that it occupied my mind for the rest of the day. I admitted that I loved to receive oral as well, but unfortunately I'd never managed many successful scores.

"You must get so distracted in theatre," mused Rosa. "A cute girl patient, under anaesthetic, mouth open wide. Aren't you tempted just to dip it in when the dentist is out of the room?" she giggled.

"That's so unethical!" I retorted. "But you know what I like even more?"

"I can guess," Rosa returned.

"I love giving oral," I confessed. "To girls. I love the taste, the feel, the look - the whole experience. It's just a shame that I can seem to land much of it."

"Oh wow! You'll make a catch for someone!" Rosa replied. "One day, you'll make a girl very happy with an attitude like that." Although the atmosphere felt charged and I could sense the tension between us, the conversation didn't lead to anything.

With the arrival of the pandemic and isolation measures, everyone's social life became much more subdued and there were fewer stories over lunch.

One particular day our conversation turned to extremely mundane subjects. "What do you think of these new masks?" she asked me after we'd transitioned to the new technologies. "Are you still able to get all your tasks done?"

"They seem OK," I replied. I wondered what she was getting at. The P95 masks made the air taste stale and made breathing a bit more claustrophobic, but actually the old surgical masks were far worse for fogging up goggles.

"I get distracted by the cavity and the filter," she admitted. "You know there's a mask there, but you can't feel it. Not like the old ones. So my tongue reaches out to check that it's there." She poked her tongue out in an exaggerated way and probed it around as if she was searching for something.

Instantly a tingle coursed through my body as I imagined that same tongue reaching out to touch me in a deep French kiss or maybe something even better like a long and sensual lick on my penis.

"I guess," I mused and thought about whether I did the same tongue action with my own mask. "Let me try." I slipped my mask over my head and I did my best to empty my mind. Almost straight away I felt my tongue pass through my lips to extend and feel out the boundaries of the mask. I had never thought about it, but my natural reaction was to lick the inside of the mask, and I realised that the tip of my tongue would home in on the filter inlet which sat just off-centre. I'm not sure why I did it. Instinct I guess. It was instantly habit-forming, like chewing on the end of a pen or biting fingernails.

"You are right!" I exclaimed. "I do lick it!"

"Doesn't it distract you?" asked Rosa.

"No, it's not distracting. But I had no idea that I was doing it," I admitted.

"Can I get something for you?" Rosa smiled cryptically.

"What?"

"Something to do with your mask. To make it -," she paused searching for the right word. "Interesting."

"Sure!" I replied. "What is it?"

"It'll be a surprise," she said with a broadening grin. "A good one. At least I think it will be good. Next week."

Lunchtime came to an end all too soon we returned to work in our respective rooms. I was keen to find out what the exciting mask was going to be. Everything was purchased online in the era of COVID, and with disrupted supplies, I was surprised that she could get her order delivered in just a week.

That night it was my turn to perform the mouth-guard duties. Mr Baum offered a customised mouth-guard service. He claimed that the services were provided by a specialist moulding service in the city, but in reality we did it all in the store. I'm not sure why he kept up the pretence with the customers.

The process was another straightforward activity that just took a bit of time and practice to get right. Firstly, the dentist takes a mould of the patient's upper bite with a special alginate mixture and then it gets labelled and put aside to process later. The patients always hate the casting part.

I take the female (that's what we call it) and put it in a special jig. Then I pour in a plaster mix to make a casting that looks like the patient's upper teeth and gums. We call that the male. It takes a while for the plaster to cure, but we have an autoclave to speed the process along.

Then we make the actual mouth guard itself. We size up the vinyl blank that's the right shape for the bite, warm it and press it into a "U" shaped holder. Then we put the cast on the top and press it down by hand. Next we pop it into a machine that looks like an air-fryer that raises the temperature to make the vinyl malleable and applies a vacuum to suck the guard onto the plaster so it's just the same shape as the patient's mouth. I cool it off, wash it down and it's ready for the paring stage.

The final vinyl substance is soft and flexible but if you slice an edge it can create a sharp corner, and that's really not good when it rubs against the gum line. So we have a special tool that looks something between a vegetable peeler and a safety razor but with a curve to it. We cut the bulk material down to size then run the paring blade across all the boundaries to create lovely smooth edges with no sharp corners. Job done! When the patient tests it out, the dental assistant is always on hand and if it doesn't quite fit right, we use the paring tool to cut it a little smaller until it feels comfortable.

During a single evening session we could create up to thirty mouth guards. In reality, we only ever did about four in any given week - maybe a few more early in the rugby preseason. We had a time allocation each week for doing the mouth guard duties, but we hardly ever need all the time allotted.

The week at work played out slowly, as everything did in the time of the pandemic. After another dull Sunday at home in isolation, I returned to work the following Monday with anticipation for the gift that Rosa had promised me. I had been thinking about what it might be, and concluded that she must have ordered a novelty mask that might be pink, or have a clown mouth image across the mouth or similar.

At lunchtime I sat with Rosa in the tea room and asked if my new mask had arrived.

"Not yet," she rebuffed. "Be patient."

We reverted to talking about this-and-that and work matters, and I tried hard to put my upcoming gift out of my mind.

On Wednesday night it was Rosa's turn to perform mouth-guard duties. We didn't see each other for the next couple of days, given our non-intersecting schedules. By the weekend I was keen to see my new mask, but the hectic Saturday influx of customers kept me busy until the end of the shift.

Mr Baum and I were late to finish our duties and Rosa was waiting by the reception desk. I cleaned up, changed shirts and met her.

"Do you have my new mask yet?" I asked excitedly.

"Yes I do," she beamed. "I hope you're going to like it."

"Will you show me?" I asked.

"Not yet," she replied, curiously.

"Right -," I said, not sure quite what was going on.

"Just wait. Mr Baum will be gone soon, and then I'll show you," she said.

We stood uncomfortably by the reception desk while Baum took his time, excruciatingly changing his shoes over, and hanging up his work tie ready for next week, then cleaning his hands for the millionth time that day. He shuffled into the reception area and saw the two of us together.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked. "You're not going to give me a resignation too, are you?"

"No, no Mr Baum," comforted Rosa with a smile. "We're just talking."

"Very well. Don't forget to lock up on the way out. Enjoy your weekend," he offered and then slipped out the door.

"Well?" I asked.

"Oh, I hope you like it," said Rosa with a blush growing across her face. Her hand dipped into her handbag and she extracted a mask that looked exactly like every other P95 mask that we'd been wearing for the past few months.

"Looks good," I said, trying not to sound disappointed or dismissive.

"Look inside," said Rosa nervously.

I turned the mask over to reveal a large pink insert that filled the mask, apart from a cut-out to accommodate the air filter. As I turned it gently back and forth, the contours became obvious and the stark form of a vulva started back at me. It was perfectly formed and beautiful in nature and my pulse quickened just from its sight. My heartbeat grew even stronger as I processed what might be the message that she was trying to send me with the gift.

The insert was all the same bright pink colour, but the shape was unmistakable. A long slit divided the mask down a vertical line with the soft curves of outer lips blending into the mask. Two inner lips poked out on either side of the crevice and led upwards to a large clitoris that pointed downwards with an obvious glans adorning the tip.

I manipulated the mask to feel that it was flexible and pliable. I pressed from the reverse side of the cup to establish that the pussy hole did not go all the way through to the mask, but was blanked off a few millimetres into the groove.

I became aware that I had spent time inspecting my present but hadn't offered any reaction to Rosa. I looked up to see her biting a lip and her face expressing trepidation.

"I love it!" I said enthusiastically. "Amazing. And totally unexpected. Where did you get it from?"

"I made it," she confessed. "In the mouth-guard lab. Out of vinyl."

"And the moulding?" I asked, suspecting that I knew what was coming.

"That's me. That's my pussy in the mask. Now when you are at work, instead of your tongue feeling out that disgusting filter, you can feel me. We can think of it as practice."

"Practice for what?"

"Practice for when you can put it to real use," said Rosa and rubbed my upper arm.

We'd never had any sexual relations before. I'd never even reached first base. I had always lusted over her in private, but I had no idea that she was interested in me. This surprise was a gift that kept on giving.

My mind replayed the conversation and a doubt crept in. Did she mean that I could practice my pussy eating skills to be good when it came to eating her pussy. Or was feeling sorry for me and decided to give me a leg up to improve my chances in the dating scene.

I had to know. "You mean on you?"

Rosa's brown eyes sparkled at me. She didn't reply but offered a huge grin, turned to the door and stepped through. "I'll see you next week," she cried out, not looking back. "Enjoy!"

I 'tried' it all weekend in a tirade of non-stop pussy-eating practice. I didn't want to take it off, which says something because no-one voluntarily wants to wear a P95 mask.

I adored my gift and it provided me with an endless sequence of hard-ons all weekend. I would extend my tongue to traverse the full range of the pussy - travelling the expanses of the outer lips right up to the ridge above the crease, and all the way to the lower extremes of the perineum.

My tongue would extend to the clitoris and I'd wind my tongue around it over and over again like a snake trying to encircle its prey. I could feel the inner labia extending in a triangular form, arriving at a point and almost forming nibs at their ends. The inner labia were thin, delicate and dangling and felt almost like tentacles exploring from the opening of the pussy. By pursing my cheeks, I could extend my lips to capture the labia and suck them a little way into my mouth. I developed an oral fixation and spent the weekend nibbling on them, imagining just what the real ones would feel like.

That Saturday night, I went to bed wearing my mask, gently licking and stroking the length of the slit, imagining a future where Rosa would let me into her life and into her pants. I imagined my head nestling against her soft thigh while I fell asleep, gently licking her pussy as I drifted into a dream.

On Monday, I got to work early, and visited to the bathroom to fit my mask to check that nothing unusual was showing. I turned it over and peered at the inside, looking at the beautiful vulva within. I could almost see a shining wear mark on the clitoris where my tongue had been honing. Alone in the small single bathroom in our practice, I was tempted to make the most of my hard on then and there.

I heard a shuffle outside and a a soft knock at the door followed.

"It's me, Rosa. Can I come in?"

I cracked the door open and she squeezed into the tight space with me and closed the door behind, our bodies standing so very close.

"What do you think?" she asked, looking up at me with big round eyes and a face full of expectation.

"I love it Rosa," I admitted, turning the vulva upwards and inducing us to both stare into the sculpted form. "I love the lips, the slit, the feel. And I love this cute clitoris. Is it always so big?"

"I'm glad you like it," she said with relief. "No, I had to make it grow to be like that. I thought of you, eating my pussy. I stroked it back and forth, imagining it was your tongue, and it grew like that. Then I quickly did the casting."

"Wasn't it messy? I mean, didn't your hairs get trapped?"

"You silly!" laughed Rosa and punched me on the shoulder. "I'm Colombian. Don't you know - we all have smooth pussies. It's in our nature! But you like my clitoris?"

"I love it Rosa. I would love to -." She placed her forefinger against my lips.

"Later, OK? Everyone will arrive for work soon." Rosa let herself out, leaving the door ajar. I rearranged my pants, donned my masked and stepped into the practice for another day of work.

As you might understand, I had trouble focusing at work throughout the shift. Every second of my working day, I found myself exploring the folds and shapes of Rosa's pussy. One part of my mind tried to concentrate on the menial activities of applying suction, wiping and changing drills, but the rest of my brain was fixated on my tongue.

I memorised every single little part of that pussy. The muscle memory of my tongue knew exactly the shape and form of the labia framing her cunt. My lips became intimately familiar with the way that the minor labia emerged from the sanctum of the pussy. And my tongue acquired an innate ability to reach out to make contact with the tip of her clitoris, hitting the target at first pass every time.

"Hey, watch what you're doing!" Mr Baum would caution me. I'd been much more careful in the past and he typically didn't need to give me much instruction at all. But now I couldn't get anything right at work.

To make things worse, or better depending on how you look at it, Rosa adopted a habit of teasing me all day long. I'd be attending to a patient in the chair, and Rosa would walk past our door, turn her butt to me, and lift her skirt to expose the lower part of her ass cheeks, with barely a tiny thong to cover anything. She'd turn around with a smile, and rub her groin and point to me, indicating that I'd be getting hard from her overt offerings. And it was true. I'd have to shuffle in my seat and position myself so that Mr Baum didn't suspect.

Without knowing it, my tongue developed a routine that I'd repeat over and over again. I'd start exploring the outer limits of the mask and then circle inwards with her clitoris at the centre. I'd suck the pair of inner labia into my mouth, nibble on them and then slide my tongue upwards along her crease. Then I'd circle around the clit, forming stronger and firmer strokes with time, Eventually, I'd press the back of the mask with my hand to push her button into my mouth and I'd hold it between my lips, imagining her moaning and cumming.