Is There a Doctor in the House?

It's always unsettling when you wake up in the hospital and can't remember how you got there. The last thing Erik remembered before waking up in the sterile white room was the drive home on Thursday when he got the phone call from his boss. He was driving home from work and his cell phone rang. It was his supervisor, David, letting Erik know that the board had decided to go with his project and that he was assigned to head up said undertaking. Along with a pay raise, he would also become a junior vice-president with the firm and report directly to the CEO. After he had thanked David for the call, Erik ended the call with his (now former) supervisor and let out a whoop. He had been working practically non-stop on this proposal for over six months and his toils had paid off. He would now be able to afford to move out of the one-bedroom flat he shared with his girlfriend, Tara, and buy the large split-level ranch they had been eying for months. Erik couldn't wait until he got home to let Tara know the good news. He had to tell her now. The last thing he remembered was reaching for his phone on the passenger seat. After that, everything was like being submerged in an ocean of black ink.

Erik heard the beeping of the heart monitor and felt the sticky patches on his chest that sent his vital signs to the machine. There was an oxygen tube resting on his upper lip that fed the gas to his nostrils. He removed the tube and looked at himself lying in the hospital bed. Both arms and legs, as well as hands and feet, were still attached, but his left arm and leg had seen better days. Erik's left leg was in a cast to his hip and his left arm was also encased in plaster to his elbow. He reached up to his head with his right arm and felt the bandage on his head. That was most likely the cause of the wicked headache he was experiencing. There was an IV tube in his right hand that inhibited his movement and he had been catheterized. Erik was relieved that he had been unconscious for that procedure. He turned his aching head to the right and saw a wheeled stand with a red call button on it. He reached over and grabbed the corded signaler and pressed it. Exactly two minutes later, the woman that would change his very existence walked through the door and into his life.

"Hello. I'm glad to see you're finally awake. I'm Dr. Janet Ellenson. Can you tell me your name?"

"Erik. Erik Decker," his voice sounded hoarse, like a frog might sound if it could speak. "Dr. Ellenson, why am I here?"

"You were involved in a car accident, Mr. Decker," the doctor answered, "A particularly nasty one, I'm told. You were hit broadside when another car ran a red light. Your left forearm was broken in two places and your left femur was broken in three places. You have multiple contusions and lacerations and you suffered a concussion. All in all, you're pretty banged up, but with a little physical therapy, I believe you'll make a full recovery. Unfortunately, I can't say the same for the person that hit you. He did not survive the crash and died at the scene."

Erik winced at the thought of that person's tragedy. He had seen and heard enough death and violence when he was in Iraq to last two lifetimes. He composed himself then spoke again in his croaking voice, "Doctor, how long have I been here and has anyone contacted my girlfriend?"

"You've been here for three days, Mr. Decker. You regained consciousness a few times but I doubt you remember much from it. You were very heavily sedated. We contacted Miss Denton a few hours after you arrived and she has been here almost every moment she is permitted. Her and I have spoken about your condition and I assured her that you were going to be fine after you regained full consciousness. Visiting hours are from 10am to 8pm. It quarter to ten now. Miss Denton will be here in a few minutes and I will update her on your condition."

"Please don't," asked Erik, "I'd like to surprise Tara and be awake when she comes in. One more thing, Doc. How long will I be laid up in here?"

"I believe you'll be here for another week to ten days then we can let you go home. But you're going to need physical therapy to get that arm and leg back to 100% after the casts are removed in six weeks. I won't lie to you, Mr. Decker, it's not going to be pleasant. I'll show Miss Denton in now."

Erik watched as the doctor walked away from him and out of the room. There were many parts of his body that didn't work right now but his eyes were not among them. He chuckled internally as he thought, my doctor is HOT! Dr. Janet was about 5'5" and looked to be around 130 lbs. She had shoulder length chestnut brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Scrubs aren't always the most flattering clothes for women to wear as they tend to hide curves, but Dr. Janet didn't have that problem. Under her yellow V-neck top sat two large breasts that didn't seem possible for a woman of her size to possess. If Erik had to guess, he'd have said they were 42 DD's easy, maybe even larger. He couldn't get a good look at her ass though. Those doctors always wore those damned long white coats!

As he heard the door open, Erik closed his eyes and feigned sleep. Hopefully the doctor obeyed his wishes and didn't tell Tara he had regained consciousness this morning. Erik heard Tara walk toward the bed and sit down in the chair next to him. She put her hand on his and slowly massaged his fingers. "Hi, baby..." Tara whispered.

Erik turned his head to her, opened his eyes and said, "Hiya, beautiful!" At that, Tara leapt to her feet and sent the plastic chair with the metal legs skittering across the tiled floor and into the wall.

"Erik! My God! I'm so glad you're awake! But you scared the hell out of me!" Tara cried.

"I've been awake for a couple hours now. I spoke with Dr. Ellenson and she filled me in on what happened. I asked her not to say anything to you so I could surprise you. I think I succeeded." Erik said with a devilish grin and a small wink. His eyes worked just fine, but he must have had a cut on his mouth because smiling was painful.

"Oh, baby!" Tara cried and hugged Erik gently. "I know the doctor said you'd be OK but I was still scared to death when she said they were going to keep you under for a few days to keep an eye on that concussion. Do you hurt much?"

Erik, still feeling some effects from the anesthesia, said that he didn't have much pain except for the nagging headache and a bit of a throb in his left wrist. He then explained to Tara that the doctor had told him that he could get out of here in a week or so and he wanted to see if he could shorten that time.

"But you can't push your recovery like that, Erik. Healing takes time." Tara tried to persuade him.

"I have to get out of here and see what's happening with the project at work. People are depending on me to get things set up and completed." Erik protested.

Tara responded, "I talked to David already. They have your synopsis, your blueprints, and all your notes. They know the situation and they're going to go forward. Everything will be there for you when you get back. The CEO even called me and told me to make sure you don't rush back to work too soon. They're going to give you full pay while your recuperating and the promotion will still be there when you get back. So how about you forget about work for a while and just concentrate on getting better, OK?"

Erik couldn't argue with Tara. He never could win an argument with her anyway so he didn't try this time. "OK, babe," he croaked through dried-out vocal cords, "I'll take it easy for a while. But I still want to get out of here in less than a week. We have a house to buy, remember? Now come here and give my beat-up lips a kiss, but careful on that left side."

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Erik had met Tara quite literally by accident one night three years prior at the local watering hole. He had come in for a quick beer or two after work on an uneventful Tuesday night. Two beers quickly turned into 4 as he remained at the bar watching a particularly good baseball game. The Tigers had rallied in the 8th inning to pull within one of Boston. After the Red Sox went down 1,2,3 in the top of the 9th, Detroit came up to bat and put a man on second with their first batter. The next two batters struck out and the Tigers were in danger of stranding the tying run. Their last batter was Miguel Cabrera. Miggy stepped to the plate and immediately took two passed strikes. On the third pitch, Cabrera punched one deep to left center for a walk-off 2-run homer. Erik jumped from his chair at the bar and raised his arms in celebration. As he did this, a waitress came by with a tray of empties, which Erik proceeded to knock from her hands while celebrating the Detroit victory.

Glasses and beer bottles and the plastic tray went flying. Erik was shocked by his carelessness. "Oh, my God! I'm so sorry! Are you OK?" he asked the barmaid.

"I'm all right," the waitress replied, "I'm just glad those were empty or I'd be heading home to find some dry clothes. No blood, no foul, I suppose."

"Well, at least let me help you pick that stuff up, uhhhh... Miss...?" Erik questioned

"Tara", she replied, "Tara Denton. And who might you be, Mr. Baseball Fan?"

"Erik Decker," he answered, ''Pleased to meet you, Miss Denton. And I really am sorry about what just happened. Can I make it up to you by taking you out on your next day off?" Erik's last relationship ended badly when he caught his former girlfriend in bed with one of her co-workers. He had dated a couple times since the break-up but nothing had come of those. Erik hadn't given up on love or dating, but he wasn't actively pursuing them either. But there was something about this woman. He had no definite preference in hair color; he had dated both blonde and brunette. But he was a sucker for a redhead and now there was a green-eyed fire-haired minx standing in front of him contemplating his offer.

Tara looked Erik up and down and then took him up on his invitation. "I'm off this Friday. What did you have in mind, Mr. Decker?"

"Dinner, dancing, a late-night walk on the beach, maybe jet off to gay Paris for a night cap under the Eifel Tower," Erik quipped, "You know, your typical first-date stuff. If that doesn't intrigue you then we can figure something else out."

Picking up quickly on his humor, Tara riffed with him, "Well, I have the early shift on Saturday so maybe we'd better skip the walk on the beach." She grabbed a keno slip from the bar and scribbled on it, folded the paper, then slipped it into the pocket on Erik's work shirt. "I have to get back to work. Call me tomorrow, clumsy!"

As Tara walked away, Erik was able to get a good look at the young lady he had just asked out. She was about 5'6" and maybe 145lbs. The tennis shoes she was wearing didn't do her legs justice, but heels were not a waitress' best friend on the job. The nice legs led to a spectacular ass that was covered with a pair of blue shorts with white trim that reminded Erik of the kind he wore in middle school gym class. But he was quite sure he didn't look as good in those shorts as Tara did. The white T-shirt covering her body was tied in a knot at the side and skin-tight that showed her curvy figure off like she was wearing nothing at all. When she turned back to give him a last look, he saw two glorious 38C cups pointing back at him. Erik felt a stirring in his khakis and figured that he had better pay his tab and head home before he embarrassed himself by pitching a tent right there at the bar.

Erik only lived a half-mile from the bar so, instead of driving while intoxicated, he simply hit the lock button on his key fob and walked home that night. When he arrived back to his apartment 15 minutes later, he looked at the paper Tara had placed in his pocket and read the note. On it was written her phone number and a little extra at the bottom:

You don't have to take me to Paris but if you play your cards right, you may get to take me!

Call me!

Tara

Erik couldn't believe his eyes! He read the note three more times to make sure it actually said what he thought it said. When he was sure that he had read it correctly, he put the note on his nightstand, stripped off his clothes, then climbed into bed, hoping that he might dream about the new woman he'd nearly killed with a flying tumbler.

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Erik had been in the hospital for five days. Dr. Janet had two days off so another attending physician had looked in on him in her absence. There were many nurses that came in to take his blood pressure and temperature twice a day and volunteers that brought him his meals. His parents visited a couple times and a few of his friends from work. Tara was, of course, there every day. She had taken a leave of absence at her job to be with Erik through his recovery. On Day 7, Dr. Janet returned and checked on Erik first thing.

"Good morning, Mr. Decker." The doctor asked as she strode in the door. Dr. Janet had forgone the scrubs and was now wearing a white shirt and grey skirt under her long white lab coat. Her black stockings and matching heels made Erik's eyes perk up. "How are you feeling today?" the good doctor asked her patient.

"Much better now that you're here, Doc." Erik replied with a smile. His voice had come back to almost normal after being properly hydrated for the past week and the bruises on his face had begun to fade. "Sure did miss you around the place the last couple of days. And please call me Erik."

"Very well, Erik. Dr. Rappaport tells me you're healing quite nicely. If everything checks out this morning then you can go home this afternoon. I'm going to do a quick check of your pupils to make sure there's no residual effects from your concussion and then give you the once-over to see that we haven't missed anything."

Dr. Janet strode over to Erik's bed, her black heels clicking on the white hospital tile floor. She fished her penlight from the pocket of her lab coat and leaned over Erik. The doctor got in close as she shined the light into Erik's right eye. Erik's mouth was inches from the doctor's open blouse and he could smell her perfume. When she leaned over to check his right pupil, Dr. Janet's large breast brushed lightly against Erik's unshaven cheek. She made no apology for her closeness and continued her examination. She ran her hands over Erik's cuts on his face then lightly traced her index finger over the gash on her patient's bottom lip. Erik, even though he was banged up and sore as a linebacker after the big game, was feeling the tingle of arousal on his skin. He hadn't felt the touch of another woman since he and Tara became exclusive three years ago.

After the attractive physician completed her exam of Erik, she wrote a few notes on his clipboard then looked at him and said, "Everything checks out, Erik. I think it's safe to release you in a few hours. Oh, we need to remove that catheter before you go though." Dr. Janet lifted the sheet off Erik's lower portion then hiked up the gown he was wearing. She placed her warm hands on his penis then looked at Erik, "This is going to hurt, but only for a second or two," she reassured her patient. The doctor grasped Erik's dick with one hand, the catheter with her other hand, then quickly but gently slid the tube out of him. Erik squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth until it was over. He let his breath out when Dr. Janet stated, "OK. All done." To help alleviate his discomfort, the doctor rubbed Erik's burning shaft for a few seconds until the pain subsided. When she was done, she gave his manhood a couple pats and shot Erik a quick wink before covering him back up with the gown and the sheet. The doctor left to wash up and Erik was once again alone in the hospital room. His cock was still a little sore but semi-erect from the massage his hot practitioner had given him. He couldn't wait to get home so that Tara could show him some attention soon.

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Erik didn't take Tara to Paris on their first date, nor did they take a walk on the beach. But they did go to dinner then to a club for drinks and dancing. Erik was dressed in a simple white dress shirt and black slacks. His 6'1" 195 lb. frame was not muscular but he was lean and fit. Tara wore a black dress and matching heels that showed off her legs, much to Erik's delight. He felt like he had won the Powerball jackpot for just being out with her. Tara was asked to dance by a few other guys at the club, but she politely declined. Erik assured her that it was OK for her to dance with them but Tara was an old-fashioned woman and told Erik that she was out with him and only him. Erik liked that. He didn't really want Tara to dance with anyone else but didn't want to seem like an overbearing jerk by monopolizing her. It seemed to both that they were cut from the same cloth.

At the end of the first date, Erik didn't take Tara like her note had suggested, but he did get a goodnight make-out session that tested the limits of his boxer brief's elasticity. Neither he or Tara wanted to rush being physically intimate but they both also knew it wouldn't be long if they continued to see each other. How right they were! Two days later, after numerous calls and texts, the couple went out again and at the end of the night ended up at Erik's apartment hastily undressing each other, eager to give each other as much pleasure as two people were able. For four hours they explored one another and then collapsed in each other's arms to sleep the slumber of two lovers completely spent.

After that second date, Erik and Tara knew that they were meant for each other and strived to spend every available moment together. After two weeks, Tara had a few changes of clothes at Erik's place and four weeks after that she moved the rest of her clothes, as well as her other worldly possessions, to her new partner's place. For the next three years, the two were inseparable and totally committed to one another. They continued to explore each other's minds and fulfill most of their fantasies. Most of their fantasies, but not all. The only fantasies they did not live out were the ones that involved a third or fourth person. That was about to change.