AUTHOR'S NOTE AND DISCLAIMER: This story is total fiction. The characters do not exist nor are they meant to portray anyone who does or ever did. The story is ADULT in nature. That means its porn boys and girls and therefore not meant to be read by persons under the age of at least 18 years. In fact, 20 would be better. If you don't fall into this category, GO AWAY! NOW! Go read Dick, Jane and Sally and leave the adult stories to ADULTS! One more thing, if you don't like descriptions of explicit hard-core nasty sex, you too can go read Dick, Jane and Sally. One reviewer complained about my stories being nasty. To you I say; "NO SHIT?" Just what did you expect to find on a website dedicated to erotica? Mathematical formulae? To the rest of you, please enjoy. Your feedback is welcomed, both positive and negative.
The Wicked Dr. X
*
I've spent the last thirty days in this hospital and it's costing my insurance company a fortune. After twenty years without a claim for anything I figure I got it coming, so fuck 'em. During the day I plug my computer in, log into the wireless internet and work, just like I would if I were out and at home, so it's not like I'm actually slacking. It's more like I'm working from a really expensive hotel room with only mediocre food. It's the side benefit that keeps me here. I would have been out and on my feet if it weren't for Candy. Candy is my night nurse. Now you've all heard the nasty stories about those hot and horney night nurses that come into a patient's room and hand out blowjobs like aspirin.
I've always discounted those stories because I figure if they were true, the nurses wouldn't get anything else done. They 'd be so busy having sex with the patients they wouldn't have time to do anything else. Nurses are giving and helpful people. They have to be to do the jobs they do, changing nasty dressings, cleaning up after detoxing drunks and drug addicts that puke and shit all over themselves, and taking care of the very old folk who aren't much better. Anyone with that kind of dedication has my deepest respect.
I was in for a week before Candy came to take care of me. She had been on vacation, she said, for the first time in two years. Went to Europe and had the time of her life. I was surprised when she said she had gone alone. I figured a girl as pretty as she is would have been married or have a dedicated boyfriend at the very least, but no, she says she's single and not seeing anyone seriously. Seems she just doesn't have the time, what with her job, and the extra training she is taking to become a better nurse, and therefore make more money. She likes working nights; some people do, and I'm another one of them. I only work during the day because that's the way corporate America is. If I could work nights too, I'd be happier. Unfortunately, that's not an option for me. So I work myself into exhaustion during the day and party a bit at night.
The last party was what landed me here in this upscale hospital, in a private room with the so-so food and, well, Candy. I was already exhausted from working fourteen hour days for the previous three weeks straight, so when the serious drinking started I was in no shape to be doing what I was doing. Our host, a business contact, was basically a mean son of a bitch who liked to see his guests get really drunk and then let them drive home as best they could. I'll be suing that fucker once I leave here. He liked making the drinks stronger as the party wore on. I never actually made it to my car after the party was over. One of his guests ran my ass over in the driveway, breaking one leg and an arm. I was so trashed I hardly felt a thing, but I could hear the bones snap as the tires ran over me. That was a sound I don't want to hear ever again, I can tell you!
Candy cracks open the door to my room around midnight the first time I met her, and glides in towing the instruments of torture all the nurses push around, for checking the patient's vital signs.
"I'm still alive!" I say brightly. I've found that the nicer a patient is to the nurses, the better they are to you, so I try to put on my happiest face and be as pleasant as I can.
"You mean we've saved another one?" she shot back with a grin that would melt the hardest heart.
"I'm afraid so," I said. "It gets to be a problem for the company if you loose too many of us! No repeat business."
"How innovative! I'll have to put that in the suggestion box!" she said.
"Cute, and a sense of humor. What a combination. You're hired!" I said.
"No thanks, I have enough to do without another job. So what exactly are you in for?" she asked pumping up the bulb and taking my blood pressure.
"Got run over by a Cadillac in a parking lot while drunk on my ass," I replied and watched her smile that pretty smile again.
"Did you deserve it?"
"Only if being drunk serves as a reason," she popped the thermometer under my tongue and grabbed my wrist for a pulse.
"Pulse is a little high, Mr. Ashton."
"I should hope so, have you looked in the mirror lately? I should think that all of your male patients have high pulse rates." Again I was favored with a smile.
"You're naughty, Mr. Ashton, what would your wife say if she knew you were flirting with the nurses?"
"I suppose that if I had one she would be less than amused. However, since I don't, it hardly matters."
She looked at me closely for a couple of seconds, her lips slightly parted, as though she were going to say something, but thought better of it and began stuffing her equipment together.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked as she headed for the door.
"First, you can call me Keith, and second, if you have nothing else to do later I would appreciate a bit of conversation. That is, if such a thing is allowed. I've been in here a week and the only person that has come to see me was my lawyer, and he's no damn fun to talk to," I replied
"I'm supposed to let you sleep, Keith," she said as if to scold me.
