I come to her with suffering teeth, roots, gums ... parts of me that I can't even spell are inflamed and hurting.
I have pulsing areas of pain, yet uncharted. I have accumulations of mineral salts that coat obscure facets of my mouth.

She ... she is not that tall. She has curly hair. Dusky skin. She has very small hands, very tiny fingers, something that I am in the position to appreciate.
She actually puts a part of her body inside mine, and does strange things that do not feel that bad. I may come to like this. I would smile at her, if my mouth was not filled with tubes and fingers and humming things.

I can now smile without shyness. My ivories are as spotless as she can make them.
I stand up, let my eyes wonder on the generic pictures on the walls, steal a glance at her as she busies herself with small metal objects and trays ... sultry probably is the word - though I would rather say "compact where appropriate, relatively abundant where desirable".
What can I say to someone that has just been inside my mouth ? I look for a good opening sentence. And then I suddenly remember:

She is married to my dentist !

She is in wedlock with the guy with the DRILLS ! She has entered nuptials with the only person I really fear in life ... not my boss ... not my parents ... my dentist !

All the blood drains from my gums. I shake her hand, I know that my palm is cold and sweaty: I hope this will be attributed to nerves.
I stagger out of their office, knowing that I have been in great danger.