A Hospital Stay Pt 02

After Natalie left, I had a relatively quiet day. Denise, the lead nurse for the day shift on the floor, bustled in and out a few times; we settled into an easy rapport. I liked her. A police detective stopped by, interviewed me about what had happened, said his next stop was the bar to ask for camera footage, which I thought the bar ought to have. He left. I watched some shitty daytime TV. I ate some shitty hospital food dinner. Denise clocked out; the night shift took over. I watched some shitty nighttime TV.

The first night in the hospital was tough. They had me on some painkillers that kept the pain level from my many injuries to a dull ache, but it wasn't enough to make sleeping easy. I tossed and turned -- such as I was able -- trying to find a comfortable position, and failing.

And if I was honest, the pain wasn't the main thing keeping me awake. Natalie had left me feeling frazzled. I had a lot of time alone with my thoughts, and I kept playing our encounter back in my head. I was a pretty confident guy, generally. I had a lot of history with her. I knew I had rocked her world more than a few times.

But she had made me cum so fast

.

I laid awake, thinking about the way her hands had felt, what she'd said...

She had known exactly what to do to get me off, in a way she never had in college. I had been absolutely overwhelmed.

The closest analogy I could come up with was a situation from ten years earlier, in college. A judo sparring partner of mine. We had been matched against each other all year, and I mostly got the upper hand in our bouts. Then I took the summer off, while

he

shelled out for a few private lessons. When we got back to campus in the fall, I was getting thrown on my ass left and right. He had put the time in, and I hadn't. I recalled the same sense of embarrassment, of having...fallen behind, somehow.

Had I just wasted my twenties? Should I have been...more sexually active, or something? Was

I

the inexperienced one now, by comparison? It's not like I had been some monk the last few years. There had been plenty of one night stands, a few committed relationships, hell, even a threesome with two girls, one time. I hadn't taken years off from having sex.

So why had Natalie been so much more than I could handle?

I kept circling around the idea as I drifted off to sleep.

---

Natalie was going down on me. She was as talented with her mouth as she had been with her hands, eyes on mine, watching me react as her tongue swirled around me, quickly honing in on the things that felt best for me. I was trying to hold back, to last longer, but every movement of her mouth exactly right. No gag reflex, like she'd had in college; she was taking all of me. No accidental scrape of teeth. Just soft lips, wet mouth, warm tongue. I was getting close, and, I could see her eyes quirk upward. Knowing. Challenging. Her mouth was full of my cock, so she didn't say anything, but the message in her eyes was clear:

it hasn't been very long, but I'm gonna make you blow; we both know you won't be able to help it.

She redoubled her efforts, bobbing on my length, a hand cupping my balls. She was right, I wasn't going to be able to stop myself from cumming, it was too much, closer, closer,

closer

...

"Sleep well?"

I snapped awake to Denise bustling around the room again, opening the curtains, checking machines, vitals, stocks of supplies, etc.

I rubbed my eyes, a little blearily, and then realized that I had a serious, rock-hard erection, which I tried to surreptitiously adjust so it was less obvious. "Uh, not...really..."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that." Denise looked concerned. "In my trained medical opinion, it may be all the knife wounds. Those sometimes interfere with sleep. It's a known side effect."

I snorted, trying not to laugh, which hurt my torso. I did like her. "Thank you, nurse. It could well be. Although this pillow

was

pretty uncomfortable..."

"Well, I'll see if we can get you another pillow, but I don't know, we've had some budget cuts..." She gave the barest hint of a smile. "Anyway, you've got a visitor. I just wanted to make sure you were awake before I started ushering people into your room. Ready?"

I nodded, and she opened the door.

Natalie?

I felt a mix of anticipation and nervous dread at the thought.

It wasn't Natalie.

Instead, a slight young woman -- perhaps nineteen or twenty -- was staring at me from the doorway, openmouthed. She was pretty -- blue eyes, dark hair, cut in a short bob. Short skirt, white blouse.

She covered her mouth and burst into tears.

Kate.

The waitress where I worked. The one that asshole had been bothering when I threw him out.

"Y-you look

so

hurt...oh, James, I-I'm so sorry, if I hadn't -- oh god -- then you -- I --" her broken words just trailed off into gasped sobs.

"Now, now." Denise patted her on the shoulder, gave her a box of tissues, and guided her to a chair next to my bedside. "I'll give you two some time. I'll be back a little later on, James. Hit the call button if you need something."

I nodded gratefully at Denise, who swished out, pulling the door closed behind her. I wasn't sure how to calm her down. "Kate, it's okay...it's not your fault..."

Kate was still sniffling. "Y-you look..." she trailed off into tears again.

I tried to give a reassuring smile. "That's not very nice. I look like hell but you don't have to

tell

me that."

It just made her sob harder.

"Kate,

it is not your fault

. I was doing my job. That guy was an asshole. His friends -- no surprise -- were also assholes. I'm okay, apparently the knife wounds missed everything vital."

She nodded, still sniffling. "B-but if I had just..."

I shook my head. "No, you did what you were supposed to. I did what I was supposed to. And I'm planning on calling an attorney today; hopefully he'll do what he's supposed to, I'll sue the shit out of those guys who stabbed me in a civil case, and the cops will also do what

they're

supposed to, and they'll get some jail time too in a criminal case. It's

okay

."

Kate nodded, brokenly. "We looked after you got driven off, and I-I-think the cameras did catch it all, and you can see their f-f-aces pretty clearly while they..." she glanced down at my midsection and started crying again.

Awkwardly, I stretched my arm over -- trying not to grimace with the pain as I reached -- and patted her leg. "Thanks. I thought the cameras might have caught them." I smiled at her. Her thigh was smooth and warm under my hand.

She nodded again, gulping air.

I figured I'd try to get her talking instead of crying. "And thanks for coming to visit me. You're my first visitor."

"Of course. You wouldn't even have to be here if I h-

ha

-hadn't--" she trailed off into sobs again.

I felt a little out of my depth. I wished Denise had stayed; she was probably better at consoling grieving young women than I was. I sat with her for another thirty seconds or so, listening to her cry and sniffle, before I said, "Are you on your way to class or something? I've only ever seen you in the waitressing uniform. I like the skirt."

She nodded, obviously trying to pull herself together. "I have classes and then I work part-time at the library; I don't have enough waitressing hours, so I picked up a little work there."

Small talk. Small talk was good. I wracked my brain for things I knew about Kate. "Makes sense. You, uh, still...running?" That was the only hobby of hers I recalled her ever talking about.

She sniffled. "I h-have a marathon next month I'm training for."

I decided to try humor. "Well, you should know that I look down on runners. Masochists. Who wants to be uncomfortable, out of breath, and alone with their own thoughts for hours at a time? Literally any other form of cardio is better."

She smiled wanly, used a tissue to dab at her face. "Th-that's what people who don't have any self-discipline always say."

I put on an aggrieved expression, grateful that this seemed to be moving her away from uncontrollable sobbing. "And

that

is the sort of thing someone says when she thinks torturing herself with hours of boredom and low-grade discomfort makes her

better

than other people."

"If you think running is boring,

low-grade

discomfort, it just means you've never pushed yourself hard enough," she said, a little primly, clearly warming up to the banter.

I waved a hand. "Whatever. Give me literally anything else. Wrestling, cycling, hell, I'd

swim

before I'd go for a run."

She laughed. "I see. You know, for a physically fit guy, I'm surprised you hate it so much."

I shrugged. "I feel like you can get a sweat and some cardio in in a million other, more interesting ways."

I froze immediately after saying it. I hadn't meant to be flirty, but it had definitely come out that way. It had been automatic. Kate was pretty, and I was feeling more like my usual, confident self than I had yesterday, with Natalie.

She looked up at me. "Yeah? What's your

favorite

form of cardio, then?" She crossed her legs. I glanced down at the movement. Her thighs were smooth, toned -- not heavily muscled, just lean. Hot.

She giggled. It was a teasing, musical laugh. I realized I had gone silent, and snapped my gaze back up. She had definitely caught me looking.

Shit

.

I smiled at her, a little apologetically. "Sorry, zoning out. I'm tired. I didn't sleep super well last night. I've been hooked up to all these monitors, and the bandages and everything since I got out of surgery..."

"Of course you are. I should probably go..." She covered her mouth with her hand again. "Oh my god. I--I'm realizing I didn't even

thank

you. You...I know you were doing your job, but most people's jobs don't usually entail..." she trailed off, lots for words.

I waved a hand, uncomfortable. "It wasn't that big a deal, Kate..."

She shook her head, slowly. "Yes it was. He had been bothering me all night, you know, and you dragged him away and I felt so relieved, b-but then...you..." I could see both tears and gratitude welling up in her eyes.

I really didn't want her to start crying again. "Kate, it's okay, I'm going to be fine." I pulled her into a hug, a little awkwardly.

I was a little worried she wouldn't want to be touched, but she leaned into it almost desperately, sniffling a little against my shoulder.

"Th-thank you..." she whispered in my ear. "I-I really can't say enough. H-how much it meant. That you intervened."

I just nodded and rubbed her back. I was belatedly realizing a few things in rapid succession.

She felt really, really good in my arms. My morning wood from that dream I'd been having had just been subsiding, but was all too happy to return in full force. The awkward way she was positioned across my body, to hug me while I was in the hospital bed -- would mean she'd definitely notice if we stayed in this position.

And she wasn't ending the hug. Instead, she sighed gratefully into my shoulder. "I'm just so glad you're okay. When I saw them load you onto the stretcher, there was just so much blood..."

I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but it wasn't clear to me which was worse: having her potentially feel the massive erection I was getting, or pulling away from the hug right after she said that. So I just hoped for the best and patted her back.

"I'm fine. And this was

not

your fault, Kate," I repeated. I could feel her smooth, toned arms wrapped around me. The way her slight body fit in my arms, the way she smelled - I was hard again.

Shit.

Nervously, I started to disengage from the hug. I did not need this 20-year-old college student, recently traumatized, to realize I was sporting a massive erection while hugging her.

Reluctantly, she pulled back a little, but still stayed sitting much closer than before, right at the edge of my bed. "Does...does it hurt a lot?" She was staring down at my bandages peeking out from the hospital gown.

I shrugged. "Honestly, looks worse than it feels." It definitely hurt, but I didn't want to make Kate feel bad.

"H-how many..."

She had trailed off but I understood the question. "Six. Five in my abdomen and chest, and one on my upper thigh."

She winced, her gaze traveling down my torso and then stopping. Stopping exactly where, I realized, my rock hard cock was clearly visible, tenting the sheets.

Shit.

My face reddened.

She didn't say anything for a long, silent, moment. Just stared. I felt bad, watching her stare, and finally, opened my mouth to apologize.

But as I was about to, she stammered, timidly, "You know, before I realized you had gotten hurt badly, I...I-I really thought it was pretty hot, how you threw him out." She bit her lip.

God.

My cock twitched. "Kate, I--"

"I-I can think of a way I could thank you...if you want..." she was still staring.

This felt like a really bad idea. She was a co-worker. She was a decade younger than me. And..."Kate. You're probably having a trauma response or something. Th-this isn't...we shouldn't...look, if you still want to, in like, a week, we can talk about..."

She bit her lip, and finally tore her eyes away from my cock, meeting mine. Then she glanced at the door to the room -- closed. She looked timid, but determined, now. "James, I really appreciate that you don't want to take advantage of me in a vulnerable state. But

that's

hot too. Now I

really

want to. So you definitely aren't. Taking advantage of me, I mean."

I opened my mouth to protest again, but instead I ended up wincing, a hiss of breath, as she stood up and, leaning over onto my chest with her hands, threw one leg over my body to straddle me. She hadn't put any weight directly on the wounds, but it was still a bit painful.

"Sorry," she murmured. And then she kissed my ear.

I moaned.

Fuck

. A little voice in the back of my mind pointed out that there was none of the baggage of Natalie. No past history of me being a shitty boyfriend. Just Kate, who obviously thought I was a great guy. It felt freeing, good, uncomplicated.

It didn't take more than that to talk myself around. I ran my hands up her back -- feeling taut muscle, her tight waist through the blouse -- over her pert ass, and down lean, smooth, thighs. Her body in my hands was incredible.

And then she sank down, grinding against my cock. "

Big,

" she whimpered in my ear.

My cock lurched against her. This was the opposite of Natalie's teasing about how I couldn't handle her. Kate really

wanted

me.

The thought was intoxicating, and even as I was thinking it, she was scrabbling to get the sheets and hospital gown out of the way. I helped her. She lifted the skirt up, pushed it out of the way, and simply pulled her panties to the side before lowering herself again, grinding against me. We both stared down at my thick cock, now pressed between us, as she pushed her pussy along my length. I could feel how wet she was, how warm. I put my hands on her ass and helped her grind on me.

She moaned in my ear, and then, pulled away, those blue eyes locked on mine. "God. The way you fucking threw that guy out was so

hot

," she confessed, again. "And...and...your dick feels so good..." She paused for a moment and then, breathlessly, said, "I-I want you inside me. I

need

it. Now. Just...just don't cum in me, okay? I'm not on anything."

I knew all the statistics about the pull-out method's effectiveness, but in this moment, I didn't give a shit. I nodded, and then watched as she pulled up off of me, wrapped a hand around my cock to angle it correctly, and started to sink down on me with a moan.

I grunted, adjusting to the sensation of being inside her. She was

tight

.

I could feel her, wet and yielding around me, stretching to accommodate my girth. She was staring, openmouthed, at the sight of my cock slowly sliding into her.

It reminded me vividly of when Natalie and I had started having sex, how Natalie had been impressed by everything I did back then. The thought was a real turn-on. Kate was probably inexperienced. Obviously wanted me to take charge.

I wasn't as physically capable as I usually was, but I wasn't about to let that stop me from being dominant. I put one hand on the back of her neck, pulling her down on top of me, and the other hand on her ass. As I slowly pushed her ass down, working the rest of my length inside her, I pulled her head down to my shoulder so my mouth was next to her ear, and murmured, "You like that cock, huh?"

"Yes, oh

god

...fuck me, please," she begged.

I gave her what she wanted. Both hands went to her pert ass and I started thrusting up into her. It was, admittedly, not my best work -- my core muscles were not firing as they usually did. But she was obviously loving it.

"Fuck, James, your dick is perfect..." The words were interspersed with whimpers.

This was the

perfect

antidote to how embarrassing my performance with Natalie had been. I started thrusting into her harder, and Kate groaned. She started bouncing in time with my thrusts.

She was letting out a little whimper every time I thrust into her. "This -- feels so -- good -- y-you're -- gonna make -- me cum -- if you -- keep going..."

Hell yeah. I felt like a fucking king. I grabbed her ass tighter, keeping the same pace, but making my thrusts harder. I felt her get even wetter around me and heard her gasp.

"Fuck, use me,

yes

," the words came out brokenly in my ear.

I grunted. She was frantically moving her hips now -- faster than I was thrusting. God damn, she could really move. I was starting to get close, but I wanted to make her cum, so I wasn't about to slow down -- I struggled, trying to speed up, to keep up with the way she was bouncing on my shaft.

"J-james...I'm...I'm gonna..." she trailed off and picked up the pace even further.

God, the sound of her desperate, aroused voice just shot straight to my balls. I couldn't keep this up, couldn't keep doing this without cumming. It was just so hot, how out of control she was, how she kept talking about how good this felt for her...I could feel my orgasm oncoming. I had to slow down, trying to stave it off a bit longer so she could orgasm before I had to pull out of her.

Obviously, she noticed, but she didn't say anything. She just let out a frustrated little whimper, redoubling her own movements to maintain the pace.

Fuck

, she felt so good, so tight...

I could feel the edge approaching, now. I stopped completely, froze, trying to hold it off.

My sense of dominance fled. Kate kept moving, relentlessly riding me, pert ass bouncing in my hands, smooth thighs over mine. "I...I'm gonna cum for your big dick," she moaned into my ear.

That comment was too much. I crested over the edge. "K-Kate, shit, wait, I'm..." Frantically, I tried to push her off me so I didn't cum inside her. But her arms were locked around me, and she was driving down onto my dick a woman possessed, trying to get to her own orgasm.

I had waited too long, and hadn't expected just how difficult it would be -- with my injuries and the bandages -- to push her off me. I tried for a moment or two more, holding it back, trying to pull out of her as she rode me, but the physical sensations overwhelmed me. With a groan, I lay back, my hips bucking as I started cumming inside her.

She tensed up, letting out a frustrating whimper as she felt me start orgasming. She rode me as I came. Eventually, she slowed, then stopped, lying atop me, head resting on my shoulder.

Fuck.

I blinked several times as the bliss slowly faded and I caught my breath. "Kate, wow, I...uh..."