"Wait!" I yelled as I frantically ran after the accelerating bus. Stupid driver, he either didn't see me or he was ignoring the crazy student chasing him. Either way I was screwed. I was due at a new client's house at 3:00 pm and there was no way I'd make it now. My name is Scott Peterson and I'm a second year nursing student working part-time as a personal support worker to help pay for my schooling. I had a few regular clients who I'd help with bathing, meals, dressings, meds, etc. It's something that I enjoyed and I was reasonably good at. It was also great experience towards my ultimate goal of becoming a registered nurse. Men in nursing were still the minority, however the numbers were climbing making up about 15% of my class.
Back to the issue at hand, I either waited for the next bus to get from university to the new client's home or I started to walk. Transit was notoriously unreliable around here so I started to walk with the occasional jog but it was still well after 4:00 by the time I arrived at my destination. So much for first impressions. I was visiting a new client today who was recovering from a motorcycle accident and required home care as he was confined to a bed with two broken arms and a leg according to my notes. Poor guy. Most of my clients were elderly so I was happy to pick up a younger client. I had been chatting with his wife prior to today's visit, and my new client, Richard Lewis, was in his forties. His wife typically worked from home and was able to look after him but she needed someone to help out to give her a chance to run errands, attend an occasional work meeting, or just clear her head. I was happy to be that person and earn some extra cash.
I had already texted her to let her know I was running late and she seemed fine with it as long as I could still make it. She had left the house at 2:00 today so Richard had been on his own for over 2 hours now. The plan was for me to stay with her husband until around 9:00 this evening when she would return. There was a list of things for me to do waiting on the kitchen counter.
I walked up the sidewalk of the pretty suburban home and taking a deep breath, punched in the front door code. Obviously Richard wasn't up to answering the door. The code worked on my first attempt and I stepped into the front hall. "Hello?" I called to let Mr. Lewis know I had arrived, "It's Scott from Home Services."
I heard an indistinct shout from down the hall. I knew from talking with Mrs Lewis that Mr Lewis was in a hospital bed in their main floor guest room. It was easier than trying to get him upstairs with his injuries. I took off my shoes and coat, grabbed my bag and headed down the hall in the direction I thought his room would be. I saw the end of the bed through the doorway before I saw Mr Lewis so I knew I was in the right spot as I walked into the bedroom. "Hi, I'm Scott. I'm really sorry I'm late... wait, what... Coach Lewis?"
Sitting upright in the rented hospital bed was my grade 11 gym teacher, Coach Lewis. Before now, I never realized his first name was Richard but I should have put two and two together. Holy fuck, my new client was Coach Lewis! Coach was a man's man and had played a leading role in many of my lengthy, high school jerk off sessions. He was a muscular guy with big beefy biceps, a sexy pornstache, and a powerful, hairy chest that strained at the fabric of the snug t-shirts he liked to wear. I spent an entire year secretly checking out every sensual inch of him including his hard, bubble butt; his well-packed gym shorts; and his thick, hairy legs. In a word, he was a walking Adonis, and I often had to look away to slow down a growing semi back in the day. Many a girl, and a few boys including myself, had crushed hard on the handsome gym teacher. It had been 3 or 4 years since I had last feasted my eyes on Coach Lewis.
Today he looked slightly less sexy but he was still a sight to behold. The motorbike accident had left him with several fractures including a cast on each lower arm, and a cast on his left leg from his foot to his thigh. That must have been some accident. He was propped up in bed leaning against several pillows with a hospital gown draped over him and a sheet partially covering his spread legs. Despite his injuries, I couldn't help but admire his baseball biceps poking out from the sleeves of his gown and his muscular, hairy right leg extending out from under the sheet.
He looked pale, uncomfortable and slightly confused as he focused his eyes. "Scotty Peterson? What are you doing here?"
"Um, I'm your new support worker Coach. I'm doing this while I go through nursing school. I'm sorry I'm so late, I missed my bus. It's great to see you, I didn't realize it was you until just now. Uh, sorry about your accident," I babbled.
"Ah okay, that makes sense, it's great to see you too Scotty. It's been a few years, you look all grown up. Congrats on nursing school. I'd shake your hand but as you can see, I'm a bit of a mess," he sighed. "Speaking of which, I could really use my pain meds... I stupidly thought I'd be fine when my wife left earlier but to be honest, I'm dying. Before we catch up, could you grab them from the nightstand?" as he leaned back in pain with his eyes partially closed.
"Sure thing Coach, I can do that." I walked over to the two drawer nightstand on his right but I couldn't see any pills so I opened the top drawer. No pills were visible so I started to dig behind a couple of paperbacks near the front. Still nothing but I did find a bottle of massage oil, a small white vibrator, and what looked like an assortment of black, rubber cockrings! Oh man, what I would give to see Coach Lewis modelling a cockring!
"Did you find them Scotty?" moaned Coach. He was taking short, shallow breathes and was obviously in discomfort.
"Sorry Coach," I replied mentally shaking my head, "I'm not seeing the pills but I'm looking!"
Coach offered, "They're yellow and in a small container and should be on the nightstand."
Putting lustful thoughts about Coach's cockring-bound cock aside, I closed the top drawer and pulled out the bottom one. Sitting beside a box of tissues was a small vial of yellow pills. Bingo! "Got 'em, I think. Are these the ones?" holding up the vial for Coach Lewis to see.
Coach Lewis opened his lidded eyes and nodded in exhaustion and pain, "Yeah, yeah. Give me three please. There's water on the dresser."
I opened the vial and shook out three pills and filled a clear plastic cup with water from a jug on the dresser. "Here you go..." I said as I dropped the pills between his lips and held the cup of water to his mouth. Coach took a sip and swallowed the pills. Despite his infirmity, his moustache was as lush and beautiful as always with his sexy bottom lip showing below. I needed to stay focused and put aside my lust for this man.
"Thanks," he offered as he settled back onto the raised bed.
