A Day at the Office

I was a couple hours into my shift, busy with all the usual duties required of me in my role as a nurse. All the important tasks of a typical morning routine were completed. Assessments were charted, old and new orders from various providers were acknowledged, as were notes and entries of care plans, lab results, and everything else in between. I made sure to greet each of my patients with a genuine smile and the kind of professionalism they would expect from their nurse; offering them the opportunity to discuss their needs and goals for the day, assuring them they matter by paying attention to even the littlest of details, such as asking how they take their coffee, or if they prefer their door closed.

Are you comfortable with the temperature of your room? Do you need a warmed blanket? Is there anything else I can do for you? Things I would ask before turning to the door to leave.

Looking in from the outside, it would appear to be any other normal day. Nothing unusual or odd stood out. Nothing that would cause anyone to suspect that my mind was flooded with the filthiest of thoughts:

Thoughts that echoed loudly as I smiled and nodded at doctors and other nurses and caretakers with whom I pretended to engage in conversation.

Thoughts that stirred my senses as I listened to lung sounds and heart sounds through the earplugs of my stethoscope. Thoughts that made my cunt drip and tingle, moistening my already moistened panties.

Thoughts that lingered from what happened earlier that morning just before I left for work.

Thoughts that refused to be ignored.

"How's my naughty nurse?"

His message flashed on my phone screen and I immediately felt my cheeks turn pink.

"...Currently corrupted by very naughty thoughts, thanks to you." I reply back.

"Good." I could almost hear the tone of a devilish smirk behind his short response, and then he gave the reminder of what he will be expecting when I return home later that evening--leading my mind to wander again back to the details of just 3 hours before.

I was in the laundry room ironing my scrubs for the day, wearing only my bra and panties when he greeted me with a fresh cup of coffee.

I gave him a sleepy grin and thanked him while he stood in the doorway and stared at me, looking me up and down as I ironed away at the creases of my uniform.

I glanced over to see his cock, hard and protruding up and out of the top elastic band of his briefs, making it all too tempting for me to stop what I was doing to give it my full attention. But instead, I gave him a pouty face, and in a most pitiful tone I said, "I'm already running behind on time."

He just looked at me and pulled it out and began stroking it slowing in front of me....

"Oh, you're a cruel man..." I scowled playfully.

He gave me a smirk, knowing what he does to me.

"Come here," he said. And then instructed me to stretch out my panties to show him my cunt.

"Just like that" he grunted, "Such a pretty cunt." Breathing heavier, stroking faster. And faster, until I could tell he was on the edge of the inevitable.

I pulled my panties down a little more to reveal how wet they are.

"Fuck." He groaned, and he continued to jerk himself off in front of me.

"Cum in my panties." I said.

And just then he steadied his cock and aimed it at the glistening layer of my cotton crotch, spraying his sticky seed all over them--soiling them with his morning lust.

Once every last drop was deposited, I gave him a big kiss and pulled my panties back on and snug in place, and then proceeded to finish ironing my clothes.

I gave him a big grin, "Looks like you're coming to work with me today!" To which we both laughed.

And now, hours later, here I was a work looking for every opportunity to sneak to the bathroom to look at my panties.

To see the stains.

To take them off and hold them to my nose. To smell them.

To deeply inhale him and breathe in his scent.

I wondered if anyone else got the occasional whiff of our lust from this morning, or if it followed in my wake as I walked past them.

Throughout the entire shift I remained in a perpetual state of arousal; feeling like a dirty whore in my dirty panties.

More than a few times I found myself in the bathroom, touching my clit through the fabric, keeping myself on the edge of an orgasm.

When the shift finally came to an end I hurried home. He greeted me at the door with his arm extended and palm out.

"Now hand them over to me." He said. It was as though he had been thinking about it all day as well.

I slipped out of my scrub pants, and removed my panties, and did as he instructed. I handed them over.

He held them to his nose just as I did many times that day. And he breathed them in as though it was his very first breath--or maybe as if it could be his last. And then he balled them in his hand and put them in his pocket.

"And tomorrow, you will be coming to work with me."