The Base Beauty

By Dee Newman

When she called my name I recognized her immediately. Less than a week earlier I had watched her walk across a temporary stage in front of the base commissary. At the time I remember turning to my friend Larry and saying, “Now, that’s a good looking WAVE.” Within an hour she was accepting the title: Base Beauty.

I had arrived in Millington at the Naval Air Technical Training Center from boot camp only a month earlier. Since I had had a comprehensive oral and dental examination in San Diego, I believed my dental appointment that day would be merely a routine exam. Nevertheless, given the technology of dentistry in 1965, I was, admittedly, experiencing that morning some mild degree of dental anxiety.

As she escorted me to the examination room my uneasiness began to melt. This could actually be a pleasurable experience, I thought.

Visually, she was a stunningly beautiful young woman. Walking behind her was pure pleasure. She moved with a compelling grace that noticeably turned the heads of both the men and women in the waiting room.

“Have a seat in the chair,” she said with a soft directive voice that was warm and friendly.

After reviewing my history and asking me a series of questions, she inquired if I had experienced any dental discomfort recently. My immediate response was to say no, and then I remembered feeling a slight sensation during the evening meal the night before. Pointing to the tooth, I describe it as more of an awareness than a discomfort.

Before she began her examination of my mouth, she thoroughly washed her hands and pulled on a pair of surgical gloves. Using a periodontal mirror and probe, she began to examine my teeth and gums, recording her observations on a tooth chart.

With her face only inches from mine, as she poked and probed my mouth, I noticed a slight imperfection beneath her right cheekbone. Concealed by a thin layer of makeup were several small acne scars.

Completing her examination she step back and said, “Everything seems to be fine except for that one tooth. It looks as though you may have cracked an old filling. The doctor should be here soon.”

When the doctor arrived she explained to him what she had found. After completing his examination, he informed me that the old filling would need to be replaced. I immediately began to feel a renewed sense of apprehension as my hands anxiously gripped the ends of the chair’s armrests.

Once the Novocain had taking effect and it was time for the drilling to begin, the two of them, the doctor to my right and the Base Beauty to my left, began the unsettling process of removing the old filling. At first I was only aware of the slow grinding of the drill. Little by little, though, I became increasingly aware of something slowly bearing down on the back of my left hand. Suddenly, as our eyes met, I  realized what it was – the warm fleshy folds of her vulva beneath the white cotton dress of her uniform.

She didn’t blink an eye as she continued to stare into mine. Nor did she reposition herself. In fact, the once slow, almost imperceptive undulations of her loins became more and more intense, pressing harder and harder against the knuckles of my hand. And then, just before the drilling stopped, I witnessed the pupils of her large grayish-green eyes suddenly dilate and turn black, acquiring the distinctive unfocused glare and blankness of a blind person.

It was and continues to be the most intense and satisfying dental experiences I have ever had. Needless to say, thanks to Miss Millington, since then, dental anxiety has never been a concern of mine.