I awoke to the sound of the rain pelting the aluminum window sill, a dull thunking sound loud enough to make me wonder if it was hail. Wiping my eyes, I peeked through the blinds at the heavy rain from a tropical storm that was in the process of rolling ashore. If I had known that the storm would take a quick jog toward the north during the night and that the rains were much less severe than expected, I might not have spent the night at the hospital.

Looking over to the bed next to me, I could see my daughter was still asleep. On the tray by her bedside I noticed several small clear plastic cups, each with several pills. The nurses weren't supposed to leave the pills like this, but occasionally, when things got busy, they might leave them for my daughter. She had been in the hospital so long, she pretty well knew what each pill was, what each pill was for and what the side effects were.

I climbed out of the bed and looked over the cups. The pills had not been punched through the protective wrapper so I made a quick inventory. There was the DDAVP, something she really had to have, also some Methadone, and a few others I didn't immediately recognize. In the last cup I spotted what I was looking for, Oxycodone, pain pills available upon request. My daughter apparently had made it a habit to request these when she woke up and now the nurses simply brought them.

Looking down and confirming my daughter was still asleep, I grabbed the packet and slipped it into my pocket. I figured with the Methadone my daughter really wouldn't be in that much pain and if I could get her distracted she wouldn't remember to ask for the Oxycodone. She could always get a dose in another four hours if she really needed it.

With the pills safely tucked in my pocket, I began noisily unwrapping the other medications and dropping them in the cups. When she didn't wake up, I reached over and stroked her head, "Pumkin, wake up. Your medicine is here."

It took a few minutes but I was finally able to rouse her enough to take the pills. I told her what each up contained as I handed it to her and, to my delight, she didn't look in the cup to confirm what I told her. When the last cup came up, I simply added Oxycodone to the list of pills she was swallowing.

The room was quite dark because of the heavily overcast skies so my daughter turned her head to the side and slipped back to sleep. I quietly sat on my bed for a few minutes until she was breathing heavily. Getting up from the bed, I tiptoed to the door and quietly opened it. Glancing back, I made sure my daughter was still asleep and then slipped out into the hallway, easing the door closed behind me.

Looking down the long, white hallway, I spotted several wheelchairs, a food cart and one nurse pushing a portable machine for taking the patient's vitals. Although she was a young and very attractive black woman, she was not the person I was looking for, so I nodded and whispered, "Good morning."

"How are you this morning?" she asked.

"As good as can be expected considering the storm," I replied.

"Yeah, that rain gets so noisy against the windows. How's your daughter today."

"Sleeping right though the storm in spite of the banging of the windows."

"It's the pills, some of them can really knock you out. Let me know if you need anything," she replied, opening a door to a patient's room.

"Thanks," I whispered, heading down the hall toward the waiting room. It was really more of an elevator lobby with three uncomfortable hunter green chairs, two fake plants and a small table with a few magazines. There wasn't even a TV.

Of course I didn't go to the waiting room to watch TV or even read a magazine. I went to the waiting room to wait, to wait while I spied down the two long hallways. Glancing at my watch, I wondered if I was too early, certainly with the storm most people would be sleeping in, but, just like clockwork I noticed a patient slowly walking up the long hall.

Over the weeks in the hospital her appearance had changed considerably. The first few times I saw her, she was a mess with unkempt hair, a stained hospital gown and dragging an IV pump as she limped along. Now she wore some attractive pajamas with a robe, her hair was combed and looked freshly washed, and she walked without a limp.

She had a pretty face and although she didn't wear any makeup here in the hospital, I found her very attractive. Her skin had that alluring olive tone that many oriental women have and though I couldn't decide if she was Japanese or Chinese, I found her exotically alluring. Her jet black hair was short, but her bangs hung down her forehead and she had a way of peeking through the hair that seemed elusive, but very sexy.

As she approached me she paused, shrugging her shoulders. I nodded to her and watched as she slowly turned and began walking away from me. Quickly leaping up, I hurried to catch up, all the while watching how her hips moved. Even covered by the robe, she had a way of moving that was so sensuous.

When I caught up to her, I slowed down to her pace, following several steps behind her. She walked to a door, glanced up and then down the hall, entered a code in the lock and quickly opened it. I followed her into the room.

"Okay, what do you have today?"


"Again, can't you get anything else? What I really need is Dilaudid."

"That's all I can get right now."

"Look, Oxycodone barely gives me a tingle. I can give you a hand job, nothing else until you can get me something better."

"But I have ten milligrams."


I nodded.

"Okay, I'll give you a blow job, but next time it's only a hand job, understand?"

"Yes," I replied as I reached into my pocket and handed her the packet of two pills. "I can't get you Dilaudid, but what about Fentanyl?"

"The patch or IV?"


"The patch is no good, kid stuff, but IV is different. You get me IV Fentanyl and well, let's just say you will be very happy," she replied, opening the packet and tossing the pills into her mouth.

"You need water?"

"Nope, my mouth is plenty wet," she said, unfastening my belt.

She then pushed me back against the wall with a strength that surprised me. Unfastening my pants, she pulled them down to my knees and then knelt in front of me. Looking up at my face she whispered, "Ah, yes I can feel it now." My cock then disappeared between her lips.

Besides the exquisite suction I felt on my cock, her fingers moved to my balls and gently manipulated them. Pushing my hips forward, I watched her as she moved her mouth up and down on my glistening cock. I could feel the sensation running up the length of me when she suddenly pulled her mouth from my cock and tucked her head up between my legs.

One by one she sucked my balls into her mouth, running her tongue round and round over my sac while her hands began stroking my shaft. Feeling the pleasure building inside me, I began to move my hips back and forth, matching the rhythm of her hands. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head back against the wall, giving myself completely to this woman's expertise.

Suddenly by balls felt cold as her mouth moved back over the head of my cock. She quickened the pace of her stroking while sucking harder and faster. I rocked my hips back and forth, fucking her mouth, listening to the slurping as it seemed to echo through the room. Feeling I could hold out no longer, I arched my back and moaned loudly as the pleasure shot through me. Peeking down, I watched as my cock pumped her mouth full of my cum in spurt after spurt. She turned her head and swallowed several times before easing her lips off of me.

Glancing up at me she smiled as a bit of white fluid trickled from her lips. She caught it with her hand and lapped it up with her tongue. Swallowing again she said, "We don't want to leave any of this behind."

Smiling, I pulled up my underwear and pants, carefully zipped up my zipper and fastened my belt. I watched as she stood up, still licking a bit of my cum from her fingertips. "So if I can get the Fentanyl?"

"Ah, Fentanyl," she moaned, reaching up and unbuttoning her pajama top. She pulled it open exposing a single, beautiful, but small breast. Though small, it was firm, with a dark areola and an enticing hard nipple.

I reached my hand and placed the palm over her breast letting the nipple peek out between my fingers. Gently squeezing the breast I asked, "And the other one?"

She opened her pajamas wider, but instead of another small, but perky breast, I saw her skin stretched flat with a scar running diagonally over where her breast had been. I slipped my hand off her breast and gently moved it over, letting my fingers follow the slightly jagged line of the scar. After a few moments she backed away from me and closed her pajamas.

Reaching for the door she said, "Get the Fentanyl and we'll have some fun." She peeked out and then slipped into the hallway.

I followed her out of the door but turned and headed up the hall in the opposite direction. When I reached the waiting area, I glanced back down the hall and watched as she walked to the nurse's station and began talking to one of the nurses. I headed back to my daughter's room, quietly opening the door and slipping inside.

"My leg hurts, can we get the nurse to bring my pain medicine?"

"You just got some about two hours ago," I lied.

"But it hurts. Can I get some Fentanyl?"

"You know the Oxycodone is normal pain, you can get them every four hours. The Fentanyl is only for physical therapy and today is Saturday, meaning no physical therapy."

"But my chart says I can have Fentanyl every four hours."

"No, you can only have it before they move you for physical therapy."

"I know what my chart says," she replied.

"Well the chart is wrong. Just relax and we can wait for the Oxycodone, it's only two hours."

"But it hurts.' She began crying.

"Come on, hold my hand and take deep breaths. Just relax and the pain will fade," I said, holding her hand. "Come on breathe deep with me."

After several minutes she calmed down and seemed to relax. Although he leg still hurt, it appeared to be bearable. At least she wasn't crying or screaming in agony.

"We need to be careful with these pain killers. We don't want you to get addicted, I mean if that happens there can be all kinds of problems," I said, thinking of what I'd just done in the storage room.

I held my daughter's hand until she drifted off to sleep, all the while trying to figure out how I could get my hands on her Fentanyl. I just had to find out what that woman would do with me. It was amazing how far an addict would go for just another fix.

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