Carefully, I curled my fingers into a fist and watched as my thumbs twitched, but stayed stubbornly stuck out at right angles. I concentrated until I could feel the sweat burning my eyes and my thumbs felt as though they were on fire but nothing happened. Roy, the physiotherapist reached out and gently massaged the base, feeling the bunching of the muscle underneath the skin and made an approving noise. Then he glanced at his watch and smiled warmly.
That's enough for today, Andrew." he said, warmly, "You've done very well, considering that you had your accident three weeks ago and the casts only came off last week. It shouldn't take too long for you to get the power back in your muscles."
I just nodded and grunted bad temperedly. I knew that Roy meant well, but it was frustrating in all sorts of ways, not being able to use my thumbs. I cursed again the idiot driver who had flung the door of his car open as I passed on my motorcycle. The impact had broken my right thumb and almost severed my left.
Now I had been operated on, the bones set and I was receiving physiotherapy to restore the use of my damaged thumbs. I had not been allowed home yet because, as a bachelor with no one to help, I could not fend for myself. I had not realised, until now, how difficult it was to cope without being able to grip properly. I made my way back to my room, nodding at the staff and patients as I passed them.
The room was well appointed and I had been allowed to bring my laptop in, so that I could work part time while I was receiving physiotherapy. The pain from my injuries was still an annoyance, but it was improving and, most of the time, was little more than a dull ache.
I sat on the bed and pulled the table closer, determined to do a little work, even though the physiotherapy had left my hands sore and aching. Concentrating hard, I worked through the prices for a couple of quotes and started looking at the proofs of a catalogue I had been working on. The photographs were by a new, up and coming, photographer and featured local models wearing jewellery designed by my sister-in-law and manufactured by my brother.
I closed the folder on the photographs and tried to rearrange my position to get more comfortable. In several shots the model had been wearing a very low-cut dress with a necklace that dipped into the cleft between her breasts. A coffee-skinned girl had worn a long rope of pearls, while the strawberry blonde had a necklace in red gold that caught the colour of her hair in its highlights. The sight of these beautiful women and the hint of erotic pleasures in their poses and expressions had an inevitable and unfortunate effect. My cock was hard and erect, pushing against the cloth of my slacks but it was all I could do to undo the sip of my fly
I had just wriggled into a slightly more comfortable position when Sally opened the door. Sally was the nurse who was supposed to look after me. I say supposed to, not because she neglected her duties, but because I was a very self-sufficient patient. Sally busied herself changing the water in my jug and checking that my pillows had been plumped up. I had liked her from the moment we had met. She always seemed to be smiling, her green eyes wide and frank while her lips curved in a perfect Cupid's bow. The long red hair was tightly curled and complemented the dusting of freckles across her nose. Most of the time she wore a pair of round, wire-framed, eyeglasses and, when she was trying to be stern, she would look at me over the top of them. I had only seen her in the pale blue dress and white cap of her nurse's uniform but, from what I could see, I guessed she had a slender body with firm, perky breasts.
Sally moved the table away and slid a thermometer under my tongue. Lifting my wrist she placed her fingers lightly on the pulse, glancing at her watch and counting the beats. She made a note on my chart and then looked up.
"How did the physio go this morning?" she asked.
"Roy says I did well, but I still can't move my thumbs, no matter how hard I try." I answered, a little sulkily.
"Trust him, if he says you're doing well, then that's the truth." Sally assured me.
"It's just frustrating, not being able to do things I used to take for granted."
"Are your hands giving you pain? Do you need something to make you more comfortable?" she asked, with a concerned frown.
"My hands are fine and I don't think there's anything you can do to make me more comfortable." I replied.
Something in the way I said it registered on her nurse's instincts and she looked more closely into my eyes. I found my breath catching in my throat as I realised, for the first time, how clear and beautiful her eyes were. The frown that notched two creases at the sides of her nose made her brows arch elegantly. She moved back and glanced towards the closed door. Moving to the handle she moved the lever that changed the indicator on the outside of the door to ‘Engaged' and closed the blinds over the little window. Then she pulled my visitor's chair closer and sat down.
"Now, we won't be disturbed. There's something wrong and you aren't telling me. How can we sort it out if you won't say what's wrong?" Sally told me in a reasonable tone.
"It's really not your problem." I told her, blushing.
Sally's sharp eyes picked up on my reddened cheeks immediately, before I could drop my gaze. She reached out and laid her hand, gently, on the back of mine and moved a little closer.
"Look," she said, "I've helped you to the bathroom, I've washed you, I've changed your dressings. I don't think there's anything you can tell me that would shock me."
"Now I'm feeling better, I'm starting to have problems down there." I admitted, glancing at my crotch, "And I can't do anything about it."
Sally smiled, sympathetically, leaning forward and gently resting her fingers on the bulge in my slacks. Her eyes widened a little as she felt the hard outline of my cock and they twinkled mischievously when it jerked under her fingers. I had expected her to jerk her hand away but, instead, she pressed a little harder and used her fingers to trace length of my erect cock. She moved her hand away and crossed over to the door. I thought she was going to leave me with my erection and see to another patient but she just turned the catch on the door and then came back to my bedside.
"You have got a problem." Sally smiled, "but I'm sure that I can take care of it for you."
She reached over and slowly pulled the zip of my slacks down, unfastened the waistband and, as I arched my back, slid my slacks and briefs down past my knees. My cock sprang upwards, pointing rigidly to the ceiling. Sally looked at my cock and reached out to gently run her fingers over my tight sac. I could feel the coolness of her fingertips against my fevered skin and my cock twitched again. Sally looked into my eyes and stood up for a moment. Reaching to her throat, she unfastened the button at the collar of her dress and then pulled slowly on the zip, opening her dress to the waist. Slipping it from her shoulders, she folded it neatly and laid it over the back of my visitor's chair, before returning to my bedside,
"There, I don't want to make a mess on my uniform do I?" she said, "and it looks like your balls are very full."
Underneath her dress, Sally wore tan pantyhose and a white lace bra with matching bikini briefs. Her breasts filled the cups nicely, spilling over a little as she bent over my bed. The dark aureoles at the base of her nipples showed as brown smudges against the pale milk of her skin. Her bare tummy was smooth and flat, with a cute dimple of a bellybutton, just above the waistband of her pantyhose. The silky material of her panties pressed against her pussy, showing the reddish smudge of her pubes through the white cloth. Her nipples pressed against the cups of her bra, tenting the material as they pushed against the satin and lace.
I hear the snap and squeak of latex as sally pulled a pair of surgical gloves over her hands and then felt her fingers, cool and soft, as she wrapped them around the base of my cock and slowly moved her hand back and forth, from the curly bush of hair covering my sac, to the swollen, purple head. Her touch was light and gentle, skimming my skin and spreading the pearly drop of precum over the glans. I lifted my head and watched as she eased my foreskin back to expose the plum-coloured tip. She brushed her hair back with one hand as she used the forefinger of her other to smear the oozing precum over the head of my cock. I reached out to touch her, but she slapped the back of my hand, gently, and pressed it onto the bedclothes.
"Not this time." Sally said, "If you'd have told me sooner what your problem was, I could have taken more time but, because you had to keep it a secret, I've just got time to help you out before my next patient."
I could only watch as she began to stroke my cock faster and faster, drawing the skin back and forth over the swollen head. Her fingers squeezed gently, with just enough pressure to build my excitement. My sac tightened, pulling my balls against my body. Sally slid her hand down the shaft of my cock and cupped my balls, caressing the tip with the fingers of her other hand. I looked along my body at the inviting valley between her breasts and imagined taking them in my hands and guiding my cock into her mouth as I teased her nipples.
My cock swelled in her hand and she slowed her strokes down until I groaned in frustration. Then she stroked faster and harder, massaging my balls with her other hand. Her fingers squeezed firmly and she looked into my eyes and smiled at the expression of frustrated need distorting my face. She crooked the fore finger of the hand she had cupping my balls, pressing it between the cheeks of my ass and sliding it easily into my anus. I felt her pushing and her finger slid inside my asshole, making my throbbing cock even harder and more swollen. I grunted as my cock jerked in her hand, starting to spurt thick ribbons of gooey cum over her gloves. Sally jerked back quickly, so that the spurts missed her face, but not quickly enough to prevent two or three healthy blobs of cum falling between her breasts and staining her white bra. Her gloved hands carried on milking my cock, squeezing every last drop of cum out of the tip.
When she had milked my cock and balls dry, Sally stood up and slowly peeled the latex gloves off her hands, then reached between her breasts and used her fingertips to collect the smear of cum from the cleft between them. She lifted her hand to her mouth and, looking into my eyes, slowly licked her fingers clean. She swallowed, and sighed as she tasted my semen, then brought a small bowl of warm water and a handful of swabs to the bedside. Dipping the swabs in the water, she carefully wiped the drying cum off my cock and balls, then dried them tenderly. Putting the bowl aside, she leaned over and kissed the tip of my cock, sucking the head into her mouth and running her tongue over the soft surface.
Satisfied that she had drained me dry, sally stood up and slipped her dress over her head, fastening it neatly and gathering her hair back under her nurse's hat. Smoothing down her dress, she checked in the mirror, dabbing her finger at the corner of her mouth and smiling.
"You should feel better now, Andrew. I'll be back to give you a proper treatment tomorrow." She assured me, opening the door.
Sally was as good as her word and came back every day after that to make sure that I received suitable treatments. In fact, she even paid me several home visits, after I was discharged but what happened then is another tale.