tagToys & MasturbationHealing Hands

Healing Hands


His penis felt stuck to his leg. His dreams had, as usual, been very vivid, and he had woken with a raging erection. Had he been able to, he would have had no hesitation in tossing himself off. In fact that was what he needed the most at the moment; some relief from the constant sense of frustration - and the ache in his balls. It was therefore not entirely surprising that he had leaked.

He mentally sighed and wondered who it would be today; the short blonde trainee nurse - with the tattoos and beard, or the brusque older woman whose dash around his genitals was both quick and efficient. Either way the bed bath would not result in any relief from his current discomfort, apart from un-sticking his cock from his leg, which would be something in itself as it was now beginning to itch.

Luckily, so far, he had not had the embarrassment of getting hard whilst he was being washed, but eventually it would happen. It had to. He had been here for what seemed like ages but in fact had been two weeks, unable to move, apart from his eyes. He was thankful that he could control his bladder and bowls at least, which made things a little less awkward.

The door opened, and he smelt rather than saw the older nurse come into the room. Her perfume was quite distinctive, and very fresh.

"Good morning Martin." She said cheerily. "How are you this morning?"

Unable to answer, he listened gratefully to her chatter as she opened the curtains and generally busied herself.

He heard her walk towards the bed and then her face appeared over his prone figure. She looked down on him and smiled. This was a first; and she had a very nice smile indeed.

"I am going to sit you up a little today." She said. He tried to smile but couldn't. He just blinked rapidly in an effort to let her know that this really was welcome news. Perhaps now he would be able to watch telly. He heard the door open again and the masculine smell of "tattoo and beard" wafted into the room. Moments later he felt hands slide under his armpits and he was gently pulled forwards from the waist up, the brace around his head and neck holding him upright as they plumped and adjusted the pillows behind him and then gently slid him backwards into a slightly less prone position.

By swivelling his eyes he could see that the side ward that he was in was light, bright and really quite nice, that he was alone and that he did have a television. He sighed in thanks. He also noted that the older nurse was probably about 55, very trim, had nicely cut blonde hair, lovely blue eyes, and a very generous bust.

As the male nurse left the room he felt the sheet being flung back to expose him completely to the world. Well at least to "nurse oldie". He decided that "nurse oldie" did not do her justice. She looked to him like an attractive Barbara Windsor form the Carry On films. He decided to call her Babs.

Taking a urine bottle from the side she gently grasped his penis and pointed it at the neck of the bottle after first pulling back his foreskin. She had never done this before and it made him shudder inwardly. Neither had she kept hold of his cock before which she did on this occasion. He peed; oh how he peed. After what seemed like minutes he eventually finished and she gently shook him, tapping his exposed glans against the side of the bottle, causing him to swell slightly. If she noticed she did not show it. She simply put the bottle on the side, covered it with a cloth, and turned the television on, the sound low but still loud enough to hear.

The sound of the telly seemed to take the focus of the room away from him and reduced his self -consciousness. He felt himself relax. He remembered someone once saying that a good pee was better than a bad fuck. "Oh how true that is" he thought.

The warmth of the flannel as it was gently rubbed over his face was wonderful. He remembered how he had once loved to shower. Stranding under the powerful jets of water as he was pummelled into wakefulness had been a daily pleasure. Carefully Babs washed his underarms, then his torso and then his legs and feet until, at last, all that was left to wash was his crotch. He had tried to keep his eyes averted from the cleavage that peeked at him, teasingly, from time to time, but his willpower was as strong as the rest of him.

By the time "Babs" had finished he was certainly a lot longer and thicker than when she had started, but, thankfully, he was not erect. He tried to breathe deeply and think of anything that was remotely un-sexy, and slowly, but surely, he managed to get himself under control.

As "Babs" walked around the bed, moving the bowl of water and towel on a bright shiny stainless steel trolley, he gradually shrank, a sense of relief flooding through him. He imagined how embarrassed he would be if his Mum saw him with an erection. It would be awful. And Babs must be about the same age as his Mum. The difference was though that his Mum did not look like Babs, and no doubt Babs was inured to the sight of erections; she probably saw them every day in her line of work.

He wondered if his penis was up to scratch. He had never thought about it before, apart from when he was growing up. He just somehow assumed that he was "normal", whatever that was. It depended he supposed on which magazine you read or who you spoke to. If you were talking to a bloke with a ten incher then ten inches was normal. If though you were talking to a bloke with a three incher, well then it speaks for itself. But how do you know he wondered where the blokey you are talking to comes from?

The feeling of a warm soapy hand wrapping itself around his cock awoke him from his reveries. He looked sideways at Babs. She was concentrating on his cock as her hand slid backwards and forwards a few times before gripping tighter and pulling his foreskin back and then forwards, to reveal a slowly growing dome. As the skin rolled into a thick collar under his glans she turned, looked into his eyes and smiled briefly before looking back to his crotch.

Slowly she washed the head of his penis, pulling the foreskin right back to clean underneath thoroughly, and then pushed it back up over his glans. He could feel his face go puce with embarrassment as he began to lengthen and thicken; but she seemed to take no notice. She said nothing and showed no signs of embarrassment whatsoever. As she rinsed her hand in the bowl of warm water, he continued to grow, until, as she laid the warm flannel over him, he was nearly at full mast. Gently she ran the facecloth up and down his erection pulling his foreskin back once more, the roughness of the cloth rubbing beautifully over the sensitive nerves of his glans.

Within a matter of seconds he was rock hard and knew, beyond any doubt, that there was nothing that he could do about it.

Acting as if nothing untoward was happening, Babs pulled his erect penis upright so that she could remove the last of the soap from the base of his cock and around his balls. After rinsing the cloth again in the warm water, she pulled his penis upright again and pulled his foreskin back hard, rubbing the coarse cloth over the exposed, sensitive skin, causing him to twitch hard in her hand. Gently she eased his foreskin back into place before rolling it back again to expose the now purple head.

When the door opened it took him totally by surprise and he had expected a hurried and embarrassed reaction from Babs. But there was none. There was no fuss or bother. Babs' face did not change one iota. She simply draped the thick towel over his midriff hiding his erection from prying eyes. The only thing that did change was his emotion. He went from hope to despair in about half a second. Clearly, from her reaction to the intrusion, Babs did not consider what she was doing as sexual. She was simply witnessing a physical result of her clinical actions. Any hope that he might have had that things were going in the direction that he was hoping for, were immediately dashed.

But that did not diminish the strength of his erection, and when the door had closed on the departing intruder, and the towel had been removed, he was as hard as ever. Much to his amazement and joy, Babs once again wrapped her hand around his penis and this time, without pretence, began to masturbate him, slowly pulling back on his foreskin to slide it all the way back, before easing it forward over the sensitive head of his penis. Each time she pulled back she pulled harder, until after only a few tugs his foreskin was stretched so taut that it brought a sense of pleasure and pain that, had he been able to move, would have caused him to shudder.

He could not tell from Babs' eyes whether she was deliberately trying to hurt him, or whether she was truly trying to bring him pleasure. Whatever her desire he did not want it to stop. And neither did she. But neither did she speed up her strokes. Each was slow and deliberate. Each drew his now red foreskin back to the point at which it would stretch no more. Each brought him closer to the point of no return until, finally, he could feel the thick ridge of muscle up the back of his penis twitch and then pulse over and over, sending thick spurt after thick spurt of sticky semen high into the air to land wetly on his stomach and bed covers. Babs simply stood there, her hand pulling back hard on his distended foreskin, and smiled as he orgasmed in her hand, careful to aim the spitting penis away from her nice clean uniform.

Even though it took another five minutes to rewash him, he was still rock hard when she left the side ward, his penis forming a well developed ridge under the thin sheet that covered him. He only hoped that no one would come in whilst he was in this state. But then again...

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