He awoke in a daze not exactly certain where he was or . . . someone was gently nudging him back to consciousness . . . through hazy eyes a clock on a wall in front of him read eleven, but he had no idea whether it was morning or evening. With greater awareness came answers in the form of something taped to his arm: an IV. That suggested a hospital. The person touching him appeared to be a nurse, quite angelic, with big boobs, not huge, just . . . had he died and gone to heaven? Not likely.
"Admiral," she whispered. "Time to wake up."
He looked up. She was beautiful.
"Admiral."
He tried to speak, but his throat was dry. She could see that and spooned a small cube of ice into his mouth. "Where . . ." was all he could manage, but he wasn't even certain he'd gotten it out.
"You're in a naval hospital. You've just had a double bypass. I'm your nurse, Ensign Rebecca Layne. Do you have any recollection?"
It was easier to shake his head, but then he wasn't really trying to remember anything. He was merely too dazzled by . . . Rebecca.
But with her help, over the next couple of hours as he came out of anesthesia, between what she could tell him and what he gradually remembered, he had the full story. He was Rear Admiral George Sadler—that much he already knew—one of the youngest men of his rank in the United States Navy. He had been on an inspection of the nearly completed aircraft carrier U.S.S. Gerald R. Ford when he had a heart attack, which apparently required a double bypass; not a good thing to happen to an up and coming admiral. He'd been airlifted to the Naval Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland, and here he was.
Sadler became very comfortable with Ensign Layne—she never left his side—and so, was quite disappointed sometime later when she told him that he was being transferred from recovery to intensive care. He wanted her to accompany him.
"Admiral, it would be my privilege to continue to care for you," Rebecca said sincerely. "But I'm assigned to recovery. Besides, I'll be retiring from the navy before you'll be discharged. However, I've seen to it that my best friend, Juliette James, will take as good care of you as I have."
"Will you at least visit?" he asked, sounding like a lovesick schoolboy, but probably not realizing what he was really asking.
Her smile alone made him feel better. "Of course."
"So, why are you getting out?" Sadler asked. "Navy not taking care of you?"
"No, sir. Going back to school. Going to use my G.I. Bill to become a nurse practitioner."
The admiral nodded. "Good for you. Anything I can do, let me know."
Since achieving any rank of importance, Sadler had never been hospitalized, so he didn't know if having a nurse assigned to only him, and then an ensign, not just a corpsman, who was basically at his beck and call was standard or because of his position. While he didn't want special treatment, he wouldn't have turned away Rebecca, and as much as he had wanted her to remain with him, Juliette James turned out to be a worthy replacement. And if that wasn't enough, when Juliette's 12-hour shift was over, Rebecca visited, and the two introduced their third team member, who had the other shift, Natalie Thornton, and she preferred to go by the boyish name of "Nate." And yes, she was as gorgeous as her compadres. What had he done to deserve this?
In his mid-forties and single, Admiral Sadler liked women as much as any sailor, but because of his position, he couldn't be obvious about it; particularly since he was in that minority of officers who believed that women should be as equal a part of every branch of the military as men. But there was something about this surgery, which provided him with a sense of his own mortality; that uncharacteristically had his eyes a little more sharply focused on the fairer sex. Or was he just still under the influence of too much medication that clouded his thinking?
"Everything okay, admiral?" Nate asked after Rebecca and Juliette departed.
"Nate—I'm sorry—ensign, I'm just wondering how long it'll be before all this medication has completely worn off. I don't believe I'm thinking very clearly—as calling you by your nickname has just proven."
"Well, sir, everyone reacts to anesthesia and pain medication a little differently. You should be over the worst of it. But it will continue to be gradual." She offered a smile as warm as Rebecca's. "And as to what you call me, it can be anything you want. We like to be casual around here, to the extent we can."
"I would imagine there would be some officers who might not like that kind of informality."
"That's what I meant by 'to the extent we can.'"
Sadler nodded his understanding. "Then you can call me George."
With a smirk, Nate said, "Thank you, but I couldn't. If my C.O. overheard I would be in big trouble."
"I'm sure I outrank your C.O."
"Thank you, admiral, but I only have a short time before I stand down. I don't want to make waves."
"You too? Ensign Layne is getting out also."
"We all are. Me, Rebecca and Juliette. We're going to become nurse practitioners. But don't worry, Juliette and I will be with you until you're discharged."
"Well, that's good news. Why not stay in the navy and do it?"
"It would take too long, not to mention having to commit to more years of service. If we get out, we can use our G.I. Bill and get it sooner."
"I'm sorry that the three of you are leaving, but I understand. As I told Ensign Layne, if there's anything I can do, just let me know."
* * *
He felt the soft hand gently grab his penis. It was divine. And, it had been some time since anyone had done that. He expected an erection to occur, was in fact looking forward to it. But it never did happen. He willed it to grow, but as if it had a mind of its own, it did not. Out of frustration, George Sadler opened his eyes. Rebecca, Juliette and Nate were standing around his bed, more specifically, near his crotch. One of them, he couldn't see which, was holding him. He realized he was dreaming. But why no hard on?
"He's awake," Rebecca noted.
Someone immediately dropped his dick.
"I'm sorry, sir," Rebecca offered. We were trying to give you a sponge bath without waking you."
He asked, almost comically. "You hold a man's penis in your hand and expect him to stay asleep? Does it work?"
She shrugged helplessly. "Obviously, not always."
"Sir, sometimes it avoids embarrassment for the patient," Juliette explained.
"When it works," Sadler couldn't help but remark.
"Yes, sir," Ensign James replied, obviously now the one embarrassed.
"And it takes three of you?"
"No, sir," Rebecca and Nate answered in chorus, joining in the embarrassment.
"Admiral, we—"
"It's okay, ensign. I'm not sure I want to know."
"No, sir, I don't think you do."
"Well, I don't want to stop you from the job in hand," he quipped.
And they all had a good laugh about it.
* * *
It was amazingly easy to become accustomed to these gorgeous women frequently touching him, sponge bathing him, checking his incision. And that began an interesting chain of events, starting with covert informality; except they still called him by his rank. Sadler found himself unusually attracted to all three women, not just because they were all beautiful—one no more than the other—but also because they were just nice people. He realized that was part of their job. But he was also a good judge of character, and these ladies were the real deal. Despite the age difference, he felt he could have a meaningful relationship with either of them.
"So, admiral," Juliette said the next evening when they were alone, and she was looking at his chart. "Says here you're single."
"I would have thought that was obvious since no one has come to visit."
"No family either?"
