I tried hard to be a good patient, but it was difficult. With broken ribs and one leg almost entirely in a temporary cast after the surgery, I was barely able to move. I still didn't remember all of the accident, but I remembered enough to know that the sight of me doing a summersault over the hood of the car that pulled out in front of my motorcycle would have been worthy of a highlight reel on ESPN.
After being cooped up in the bed for three days, I was getting a bit testy. I hadn't spent that much time in one position as long as I could remember. To make it worse, being allergic to almost all the good pain medications made it even more difficult. It's not good to be puking up your guts when you have half a dozen broken ribs, and the amount of new hardware inside my leg required a significant amount of pain medication. As a result my pain meds were provided by a morphine pump that allowed me to press the button and get a metered amount of the pain killer pumped directly into my blood stream. The problem was I was deathly afraid of getting hooked on it, so I used it as little as I could stand, which didn't put me in any better of a mood.
Don't get me wrong, hospitals are a great place to go when you're sick or hurt. But they're a terrible place to try to rest. Between the pain and being awoken every two hours at night to have my blood pressure and temperature checked, I wasn't getting near enough sleep to be anything closely resembling my normal cheerful self. But I tried. I pasted on a smile, and talked nicely to the nurses, even though they knew I was in pain. Several were pretty good looking and I managed to flirt some when the morphine was working.
What I really hated was having to go to the bathroom. I was strictly forbidden from getting out of bed, unable to put any weight on one leg and unable to use crutches because of my broken ribs. Using a bed pan really didn't appeal to me. Sure, using the little bottle thing to pee in wasn't too bad, I could do that myself. But the other... well, let's say I wasn't too keen on it, even though it was getting pretty close to a critical issue tonight.
"So Mister Michaels. Are you going to let me give you a bath tonight?" The little redheaded nurse asked me as she came into the semi-private room.
"Please. Like I've said before, just Mike, ok?"
"Ok just Mike. But then you have to call me JUST Olivia." She said with a bright smile. We had bantered this way off and on every evening over the last three days, and as much pain as I was in I still couldn't help but notice how full her chest looked on her petite. "Now how about that bath."
"I'd really prefer a shower. You could hold me up in it."
"I know, but like I told you last night, with your cast, you can't take one. Besides, I'd get all wet."
"And that would be a bad thing?"
"Apparently you think it would be nice! No, I'm sorry, you'll have to put up with my sponge bath."
"Somehow, seeing you in wet scrubs, or less, would definitely be a good thing."
"How do you know? You haven't seen me in anything but scrubs. I might look ugly as sin under them."
"I'll take that chance!" I quipped with a grin.
Now I wasn't completely against a sponge bath, especially from a cutie like her, but to be honest I was a bit embarrassed about what effect just looking at her had on me, not to mention the inuendo. I really didn't want her pulling the covers back and finding me with a huge. "What I really need is a trip to the bathroom."
"You know I can't. I told you that last night."
"Tell you what. If you help me to the bathroom, I promise I won't give you any trouble about the bath."
"You're not trying to get me in trouble are you?"
"No. I'd just really like to use the bathroom like a normal person, if you know what I mean."
"Well." She said with a long pause and a thoughtful look. "Tell you what. I need to change your bed, so how about I get a wheelchair and sit you in it. If you mange to use the bathroom while I change your bed, well there isn't much I can do about that, is there?"
"No, there certainly isn't." I answered with a grin.
She disappeared and came back a few minutes later with bedding and a wheelchair. She closed the door and came over to help me out of bed. I was glad I had taken the dose of morphine, but even with that it was still terribly painful to move. She wrapped her arm around me and slid me out of bed and into the wheelchair with me supporting most of my weight with my one good leg. She wheeled me into the small bathroom, pulling my wheeled tail along with us and then helped me get onto the stool.
"Now sit right there." She said sternly as she disappeared to go change the bed. By the time she got back I had taken care of what I needed and was sitting patiently waiting. "All set?" She asked with a smile.
"I think so."
"Good!" She said as she helped me stand up. I wasn't against her long, only a few seconds, but I couldn't help but feel her soft body against mine and her soft breasts pressing into my side. Her hair also smelled like lilacs, which I found exceptionally pleasant. The morphine was definitely taking effect for me to ignore the pain and think about sex. She helped me sit in the chair and then wheeled me and my tube attached tail, back out into the room. She positioned the chair next to the bed and pulled the curtain around us. "As long as we're getting you back in the bed we might as well get rid of this right now." She said, untying the strings of my backless hospital gown.
"Um. I'm not sure..."
"Now Mike, you promised me no trouble. You aren't going back on your promise, are you?"
"No ma'am." I said quietly.
"It's Olivia to you." She reminded me with a playful grin.
"Ok Olivia." I said as she pulled the gown off, revealing my hard dick. I could see her trying not to look at it as she helped me stand up, but it was hard to ignore as it pressed into her leg as I turned to sit back on the bed. She leaned over to help me slide up, my hard dick jabbing into her stomach. "I'm really sorry." I said, my face red with embarrassment.
