Spinal Meningitis Is No Joke Ch 03

Charlene and Jeannie walked into my room. Jeannie held the clipboard clutched to her chest. Her knuckles were still white, but the color was returning to her face.

"Alright, it's time for us to change your bed linens, Josh." Charlene said.

When she said my name, Jeannie gave her a look. Yet another reminder of how long I had been in my coma, I reflected, that all of these women thought of me as 'Joshua.'

"Mind if I sit on that couch while you do this?" I asked. "I promise not to try to run away or anything."

"Sure. We'll just wait for Heather to finish up." Charlene was cool as the proverbial cucumber; I would have no clue from her body language that she had been sucking my fat cock just hours before. On the other hand, Jeannie seemed nervous and fidgety around me. While we were waiting for Heather, Charlene was filling in most of the details of my case for her.

"Josh came out of his coma at 7:18 yesterday evening, while I was finishing his sponge bath. Doctor Hinton was the attending physician, and supervised the move. Josh's parents were notified immediately, of course, and they were able to visit with him for two hours last night. They will probably be back as soon as visiting hours allow it."

"At 10:25 Josh had a cardiac incident. We were able to stabilize him immediately. After that, he was able to sleep with regular sinus rhythm for 3 hours and twenty minutes. He has had ten-point-three ounces of water, and has urinated twice since he came out of his coma. He has not yet had a B.M."

I was able to keep my expression blank as Charlene rattled all this off, but of course my mind immediately went to the parts she left out: I had actually come out of the coma to Charlene sucking my cock; the "cardiac incident" was triggered when Sarah mounted me and started riding. This also left out two fantastic blowjobs from Heather and Sarah.

I was watching Jeannie closely this whole time, while she seemed reluctant to make eye contact. She had seemed to flush slightly when Charlene had said "sponge bath," and again when she mentioned me urinating. It was really subtle, and I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been looking at her so intently.

Heather soon joined us, and she and Charlene moved me to the couch with Jeannie as "spotter." My legs were still useless, but once my butt hit the cool couch (I couldn't tell, really, if it was leather or vinyl, but it was definitely not a warm surface.) I was able to recline comfortably and was not in danger of falling on my face.

The three nurses changed my bed linens in just a couple of minutes, and I realized that all three had fantastically toned buttocks and thighs. That makes sense, of course. Throughout the night shift, I had only seen Charlene and Heather sitting for a few minutes at a time. All that constant walking, lifting, and standing would keep those muscles in great shape.

Once the bed was made, I was dragged back over and set up in an upright seated position. I realized that I had been staring at Charlene's cleavage and not listening. Evidently they had been making small talk about Jeannie and her husband, Steve. I was caught completely off guard when Heather leaned me forward, untied my hospital gown, and just pulled it right off me. All three women sighed when my semi-hard cock was exposed, and they all tried hard to contain giggles as I flushed red and tried to cover myself with my hands.

"You could warn a guy before you just expose him like that!" I burst out. I was embarrassed, but at the same time I could feel my cock throbbing under my hands. I was surprised that this could turn me on. Am I some kind of exhibitionist?

Heather had the control for my bed in her hand, and was lowering me back to a supine position. "You might just want to cover your eyes, then, Josh. We need to give you your sponge bath now."

Jeannie brought me a towel from my left and said, "Here," as she covered my eyes for me. The reclining bed eventually made it impossible for me to shield myself from their view, so I sighed and covered my face with my forearms. I heard them talking, but couldn't make out what was said. I could feel their hands moving over my body as they scrubbed me with their minty-smelling sponges. At first, the cool cleaning compound helped my erection subside, but as someone's hands approached my groin I was once again throbbing and hard. I was spared further embarrassment when they turned me over and scrubbed my backside. At last they were finished. I was dressed in a fresh gown and covered with a fresh sheet.

For the next hour, I was pretty much ignored. The nurses had many tasks to perform before the rest of the hospital staff arrived. My attention wavered between watching Sports Center on the television and watching hot nurses' breasts and bottoms bobbing by as they worked. I was mercifully soft when my parents arrived.

Once again, I was struck at just how fit my dad looked. Before I got sick, he had been "rocking the dad bod," as he put it. He wasn't morbidly obese, but there was a noticeable gut. The snug polo shirt he was wearing today made it clear that gut was gone. My mom had always stayed in shape, so she didn't look different. My dad was only able to hang around for an hour before he had to leave for work.

My mom sat by my bed and talked to me for quite a while. I was brought "breakfast" - just some toast and juice - which I was careful not to wolf down. My real breakfast was in the form of a fresh IV. At some point, Doctor Hinton arrived. This morning he was being followed by several nervous-looking interns. They went into the ward I had occupied during my coma, and finally made their way to my room. This routine visit would turn out to be very informative for me.

"How are you feeling this morning, Joshua?" Doctor Hinton asked, "I understand you had an incident last night?"

My mom looked alarmed at that. Neither I nor the nurses had mentioned it.

"I feel better." I replied. I saw he was looking at the sheet of paper coming from my heart monitor.

"I see you had another period of elevated heart rate early this morning," he noted.

"Oh, right." I thought quickly. "I was trying to do some leg-lifts in bed just to see how weak they are."

He nodded. "Right. Not dangerous heart rate, but that makes sense. How many were you able to do?"

"Twelve."

"Good. You'll be starting physical therapy today, as well as occupational therapy after lunch." He then turned to his flock of interns and began quizzing them about my upcoming therapy. I turned to my mom and squeezed her hand to reassure her. I found her looking at my face and wondered if she was also realizing just how much I now looked like my dad.

My attention snapped back to Doctor Hinton when he was discussing my "abnormal EEG log" from early in my treatment and subsequent coma. Evidently, my brain activity had been just this side of a grand mal seizure, and it had stayed there for days at a time when my brain was swollen with fluid. Scans of my brain activity showed insane elevation of my hypothalamus and pituitary glands. The excess cerebrospinal fluid that had been shunted from my spinal column showed highly elevated levels of testosterone, HGH, and a dozen other hormones and natural steroids.

I asked to see this stuff, and was allowed to read it all. This explained my growth spurt. It also explained how a short, skinny kid like me could wind up with a giant dick. In addition to the normal nutrients, my IVs had contained substantially elevated levels of vitamins. The hyperactive brain activity caused by the swelling had led to hyperactive glandular response. This coupled with improved nutritional supplements and a "normal" growth spurt to lead to over a foot of height.

When the doctors had left, my mom asked if I was alright.

"That explains everything." I responded. "Did you know I'm six foot three now?"

"Really? I didn't know that. You've always been in a bed. I mean, I know you had grown, but ..."

My mom then had me scoot over so that she could sit up on my bed. It was awkward, of course, but very comforting to have my mom snuggled up with her arms wrapped around me. We lay there together for a good half hour until my physical therapist arrived.

Dennis, my physical therapist, was a very odd guy. He had obviously had his hair colored, and the bright blood red of his hair did not at all match the light brown of his tightly-cropped beard and moustache. He was short, maybe five-four or so, but very broad across his shoulders and chest. His arms and legs were heavily muscled. His voice was a good octave higher than I was expecting, sounding almost cartoonish coming out of his broad frame.

Dennis had made the rounds of the coma ward before coming into my room. He extended a hand and introduced himself - something none of my other caregivers had done.

The first couple days of physical therapy were almost tedious. I was given a racquetball to squeeze to help strengthen my arms, I did leg-lifts several times a day, and I began lifting my head off of my pillow as many times as I could to build up the muscles in my neck. None of this seemed like much, but I was shocked at how quickly these three simple things made a noticeable difference.

My occupational therapist was an older woman named Theresa. I only saw her once a week for three weeks at the hospital, so I barely remember her now. It's not that she wasn't helpful, just that I barely saw her.

My parents had visited daily. My dad sat in on my physical therapy the third day. Dennis had brought a very light, foam-covered two pound dumbbell for me to begin using. Now, I had never lifted weights before that point at all. My dad had, though, and he suggested some supplements that I ought to use to help my workouts along. Amino acid tablets and weight gainer fuel, mainly. Dennis agreed that those would be helpful, and my dad brought them in later that evening.

I kept working the racquetball and dumbbell, and doing leg lifts until I couldn't anymore. That night after my first genuine dinner, I zonked out.

I awoke sometime after midnight. As had been the case every time I managed to fall asleep, I woke up in a panic. It would be a few months before that would pass. Once I had calmed down, I looked down and found Sarah kneeling between my legs, shaving my groin.

"Hey, there." I said.

Sarah looked up at me and smiled. Her deft hands maneuvered the razor around the base of my cock, removing the stubble of my pubic hair. I noticed that the privacy curtain was drawn around my bed.

"This is how it all started, you know," she said. "I was on the night shift, shaving you while Jeannie was at the desk. You were rock-hard, just like you are now." She made the final few strokes with the razor and began cleaning my groin with a warm washcloth.

"I was cleaning you off like this," the warm washcloth was now wrapped around the base of my shaft and balls, "and I just couldn't take my eyes off of the head of your cock. Just bouncing in front of my face...and then you exploded."

I was surprised at that. I had expected this to turn into a blowjob story, not a premature ejaculation story.

"You hadn't come in months. Your balls were just huge. And they emptied that load all over me. It was in my hair, my face was plastered with it. A few shots went into my mouth, down my top, all over my neck...God, it was amazing." She took that moment to lean forward and take the drop of pre-cum that was forming on the tip of my cock.

"The next night," she continued, "I was giving you a sponge bath. When I got to your cock, you were hard and throbbing again. Your balls looked painfully swollen with cum. The next thing I knew, you were in my mouth." She took me in her mouth and began to suck the pre-cum right out of me. Her tongue swirled around my cock head as she pulled her mouth away.

"It turned out to be a good move on my part. Instead of spending an hour trying to wash your semen out of my hair and clothes, I got to spend that hour enjoying the feel of it in my stomach: enjoying the taste of you in my mouth. I got a thrill out of sitting next to Charlene that night, acting like nothing had happened when little orgasms were shooting through me."

"I felt a little guilty about that. I mean, here you were looking so innocent, and I had mouth-raped your dick." My dick lurched at that. She proceeded to give him more loving oral attention. I was rapidly approaching orgasm when a beeping sound distracted us both.

"Damn!" Sarah swore as she pulled her beeper from her pocket. I could only stare in disbelief as she tucked my cock away, grabbed up her shaving kit, and left my room.

"Nooooo!" my mind screamed out.

Several minutes later, Sarah finally returned.

"I am so sorry about that," she whispered, "Jeannie is working with me tonight, or I would have just finished you off. I have to be over in the ward for the next couple hours. I ..." she trailed off, and then finished with "Sorry" as she pulled my curtain open and walked away.

I understood, of course, but my balls genuinely hurt. Unlike that first night, I hadn't been treated to any sexual release now for three days because of Jeannie's presence on the night shift. "Oh, well," I thought, "back to my old standby." I pulled my sheet up to hide my hand stroking my hard cock.

Not hiding it well enough, it turned out. Jeannie was able to see clearly what I was doing from her station. I closed my eyes and worked my hand up and down the shaft. My arms were clearly stronger, but far too soon my arm dropped to my side from exhaustion. It dropped right onto the buzzer for the nurses' station.

I didn't hear it, of course, but Jeannie had apparently been watching me masturbate with rapt attention. She pulled her hand guiltily out of her pants to answer the call.

As I said earlier, her behavior around me had seemed a little odd. When she whirled into my room, pulling the privacy curtain behind her, I got an eyeful of why she had been on edge. She put her finger to her lips, motioning me to silence as she pulled my sheet out of the way. It was obvious she was very accustomed to taking my cock in her mouth when she dove her head down to take me in. I gasped as her throat took my fully-engorged cock head right down. She took all but the last inch of the shaft into her mouth, and then began rapidly fucking her mouth with my cock.

After two intense minutes, she pulled her mouth up to gulp a breath of air. Thick saliva and mucous drooled all over my cock before she inhaled me again. What put me over the edge, though, was when I glanced over to see Jeannie had dropped her pants and was vigorously finger-fucking her pussy...and she had the base of a vibrator peeking out of her asshole! Little Mrs. Happily Married was the horniest slut of the bunch!

I hissed, "Oh, oh, going to cum!" and she started shaking with her own orgasm before mine started. Jeannie's shuddering just intensified as my cum jetted into her throat. Her moaning around my shaft as I came just made me shoot harder. I counted eleven shots of cum which she just swallowed right down. She then let me out of her throat, trapping my glans in her mouth so that she could suck out the rest.

At some point, I must have cried out. Perhaps it was Jeannie's loud moaning. Whatever the case, we were both caught off guard when Sarah whipped open the curtain to see "what was wrong." Her face was just priceless. She covered her mouth in shock, and I could see her eyes darting around. Her eyes widened when she saw Jeannie's little toy.

Jeannie pulled her mouth from my cock and gave a strangled cry when she saw Sarah looking back at her. She started babbling, "He was just lying there, he looked like he was hurting, I was just trying to—" when Sarah leaped forward and wrapped Jeannie in a tight hug.

I was surprised by the move. Jeannie was frozen with shock. Then Sarah began softly whispering, "It's okay, Jeannie. It's okay. I completely understand. Nobody's going to tell on you. You're fine."

When Jeannie had stopped shaking, Sarah held her at arm's length and looked in her eyes. Her reassuring smile was contagious. "I have to know, though," Sarah said, "How long has this been going on?"

Jeannie looked down and mumbled, "three months. It's been eating me alive."

Sarah lifted Jeannie's chin so that they had eye contact again. "I beat you by three weeks, then." Jeannie's astonished expression was absolutely priceless.

As amazing as all this was, I was so exhausted, and so drained from my orgasm, that I was fast asleep within minutes. I missed the phone call that brought Charlene and Heather to the hospital. I missed the long night of talking over coffee as they shared and bonded. Charlene filled me in the next morning before my parents arrived. Jeannie looked fantastic when she left work; the weight of all her pent-up worry and guilt had been lifted away.

For my physical therapy on that day, Dennis brought a wheelchair and took me to a separate part of the hospital where they kept most of the physical therapy equipment. I was carefully lowered onto a workout mat, where I was able to perform a handful of "girlie pushups" as we had called them in junior high. I was on my stomach, and pushing up essentially just my torso. It was exhausting, but exhilarating at the same time to have made this much progress this quickly. I knew I still had a long way to go, but just being able to push myself back upright onto my knees was a huge step up. My dad was once again along for my PT, and he went from looking worried to beaming with fatherly pride at my progress.

Dennis mentioned what I should do over the weekend, since he wouldn't be there. It was the first time I even knew what day of the week it was. The coma ward was, after all, not the busiest part of the hospital. I asked if we could bring one of the exercise mats into my room for the weekend so that I could do more pushups and my dad carried it for me when we returned.

There were a bunch of people in the ward when we got back. They were the grief-stricken family of the young woman who had been brought in earlier in the week. She had not made it. After all the progress of that day, it just drove home how lucky I was to be alive. At the same time, everyone was sad and subdued. The girl was only fourteen.

I found myself crying over someone I had never really met.

Another first came that evening, when I was able to walk with assistance and actually sit down and take a crap in privacy. Unfortunately, with the tubes and such still attached to my arms, I wasn't able to wipe my ass satisfactorily, so I had to put up with the indignity of lying on my stomach in bed while Charlene cleaned my asshole. I found out just how kinky Charlene was when she insisted on giving me an enema, and then buried her tongue up my ass while jacking my cock.

My heart rate escalated at this, and Sarah peeked in around the privacy curtain before shaking her head and walking away. I filled Charlene's hand with cum, which she lapped up. I pushed myself up and turned over on my own while watching her enjoy her treat.

"Your cum tastes better now that you're eating solid food," she said.

"It must be all the fruit and juice you've been feeding me," I replied. I reached over to her, and guided her to my side. She was still lapping from her palm as I opened up her top and began to suck her left nipple into my mouth for the first time. I had my left hand around her waist, and managed to slide my right hand down the front of her panties. Her pussy was shaved completely smooth -waxed, it turned out—and she was soaking wet as my middle finger worked its way into her. I eagerly sucked her nipples as she moaned in appreciation. By the time she had finished off the cum on her hand, she was shaking in a lovely orgasm of her own.