My Angel of Mercy

"Well, you're a bright girl," she had smiled a bit wistfully. "Maybe you'll think of something. If it's still a problem after Dr. Carlton sees him Monday, I may put my thinking cap on and see if I can help."

"Thank you," I told her. "I guess I better go give him the bad news." Oddly, I heard my coworkers giggling amongst themselves as I walked away.

I paused outside Mr. Foster's room as I mulled over what I was going to tell him, and how. And to pay some attention to the annoying idea nagging at me from somewhere deep inside. I truly hated seeing the man suffer. And I knew what he wanted to do. But Dr. Carlton had said it would only be temporary relief. Until the nerves healed, his problem would just keep coming back.

But temporary relief was better than no relief at all, right? The idea that was pushing at me so hard involved doing things I'd never done before. But masturbation was masturbation, right? I was no stranger to giving myself pleasure. It was one of the ways I got through nursing school without letting my hormones derail me, especially around the boys.

I'd been so good at staying focused, though, that I'd never touched a man's erect penis in a sexual way. Medically, yes... learning about cystoscopy and such. And I certainly had never masturbated one to orgasm. But that is, essentially, what Mr. Foster needed. And truthfully, there was a tingly part of me in my belly that was excited at the idea of helping him out. Maybe that's what Rita meant by "except the natural ones." Maybe my hand could be an artificial vagina for Mr. Foster.

Resolved to see if I could discreetly aid Mr. Foster, I entered his room.

* * * * *

If I could get turned over, maybe I could hump a pillow or something, I thought as I lay waiting for the innocent young girl to come back with an embarrassed apology. Or if I was lucky, a goat milker from a local 24-hour farming supply company. Yeah, right...

The yellow light splashing into the room surprised me. She hadn't seemed to have been gone that long. But it was definitely Kayla's tantalizing body entering the room, and right at that moment, Tantalus had nothing on me.

She stopped to close the door and the light disappeared. Usually, she left the door open so she could see what she was doing by the spill light from the doorway. Less need to turn on what were probably painfully bright room lights. Now, we were only lit by the illuminated meters and such on the equipment surrounding my bed. All of which seemed rather odd to me.

She carefully threaded her way around the machines until she could reach a switch on the wall. When she turned it on, instead of glaring white light, we were bathed in a soft warm low glow from a couple of "night lights" around the room. We could see each other without it being jarring. She moved to stand next to me at the side of the bed.

Here it comes, I thought. Try not to embarrass the kid anymore than you already have, idiot...

"I'm sorry to have to tell you, Mr. Foster," she began and she really did look sorry. "We don't have anything here that could be used as an 'artificial vagina' which you could use to get some relief. I've asked coworkers who've had some experience in these kinds of problems and they all concur. I'm not your doctor, but I think it only fair to tell you that part of your back injuries were to a part of the spine which is causing your current discomfort."

"Dr. Carlton will be able to explain more when he sees you, but for now I want to explain that with your kind of injury, only the nerves healing will stop the stimulation which is making you uncomfortable. At best, you would only get temporary relief. It sounds stupid, but the best thing you could do to fix your situation would be to heal quickly."

The poor girl was trying very hard to keep it professional. I couldn't tell, though, whether she was valiantly suppressing a desire to laugh at my predicament, or whether she simply was that naïve. I'm not sure how I'd gotten to the decision that she was innocent. She just didn't seem to have a worldliness about her. I mean, I half expected her to have wings, a halo and glow with her own light.

"Got it," I nodded. "Would it be possible to get some extra pillows?" It didn't hurt to ask.

She stood and looked at me for several moments without answering. Then she asked, "Mr. Foster, as I mentioned, I'm not a doctor, but would you mind if I took a look at your 'problem'?"

That surprised me. I didn't know what she thought looking at an engorged penis would do. Maybe she was thinking some kind of anaesthetizing ointment or something. But she was the nurse, so I just shrugged my shoulders and told her, "whatever you'd like..."

She carefully peeled the sheets down, revealing the cause of the tenting.

She gasped a quiet "oh, my!" at the cause of my discomfort. I was right there with her. That sonofabitch seemed half-again as big as he'd ever been, and all purple and mottled. No wonder I was bloody uncomfortable.

"I will be back in a moment, Mr. Foster," she told me and went out the door. Leaving my cock out to get some fresh air. That bastard was bobbing around with my pulse and every bob hurt. It couldn't have been helping to be that swollen. Seriously, I'm a healthy eight inches on a good day, but I swear, I was a foot now. Okay maybe only ten, but a lot bigger than normal and every inch of it throbbed.

Kayla returned moments later, again closing the door behind her, and approached the bed with a tube of some sort of ointment in her hand.

Thank God! I thought. Numb that fucker out but good!

Kayla carefully squeezed some of the ointment onto her palm, recapped the tube and then started applying it. She only had to pause to scrape me off the ceiling.

Her hand was warm, the ointment cool and soothing and whether she intended to or not, she wrapped her hand around my schlong and for all intents and purposes, started giving me an incredible handjob. Long, slow strokes, cupping the glans at the top, cupping my balls at the bottom, and all the time doing it with the gentlest touch I've ever felt.

She was interrupted by the biometric alarms going off. Pulse, respiration, blood pressure... all heading off the charts, induced partly by her wonderful ministrations and in part by my growing panic as I realized what the likely outcome was going to be. Out-cum, as it were. I needed to explain to her that she had to stop before there was an accident.

She looked at the machines, looked at my face and then my cock, then back at the machines. She stopped the massage long enough to reach over and turn off the alarms on the machines. She looked at me with a slight smile as she resumed stroking me.

"You can relax, Mr. Foster," she told me. "I've disabled the alarms for now. They don't mean anything at the moment."

I disagreed. They meant she was doing an incredibly good job pleasuring me. And I needed to protect her virtue.

"Kayla, what you're doing feels great," I tried telling her, "but you're going to have to stop. We might have an... um,... accident. It could get kind of messy. And embarrassing." She didn't even pause before answering me.

"You do not need to feel embarrassed, Mr. Foster," she told me and I realized she'd taken it wrong. "We want pain relief after all, don't we?"

"Well, yes, but..." I stumbled.

"Then simply tell me when you think you are going to orgasm," she went on. "I'll make sure it isn't messy. Just think of this as a special massage for pain."

"Oh, fuck... I already am..." I muttered. Her smile was killing me. And I was going to cum. The buildup was excruciating and I was approaching that Point-of-No-Return with agonizing slowness. But it was inevitable, and I wanted it so very, very badly.

"Kayla, I'm almost there," I told her. "You better get a towel or something, because... Oh, my Fucking GOD!!" My asshole snapped shut, my balls pulled up and I felt the cum getting ready to spurt.

Kayla put her mouth over my cock and kept stroking.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!! CUMMING!!" I went over and I went over hard, blasting rope after rope into that sweet girl's mouth, and she just kept stroking and sucking and swallowing. Every muscle in my body went into convulsions and every cell felt like it was on fire.

She kept me thrashing and cumming and going crazy until I damn near passed out. Maybe that's what she was trying for. And honest-to-God, the hard-on did eventually start to go down.

"Halle-fucking-lujah!" I moaned. "You're a fucking miracle worker, Kayla! You're incredible!"

"I take it that wasn't bad for my first time?" she asked and I was stunned. Her First Time???

"Um... what do you mean?" I asked.

"I have never held, much less masturbated a man's penis before, except holding one for medical purposes," she explained. "I was afraid I might hurt you, rather than give you relief. Although..." and she got a sly little smile in her eyes, "I suppose this was for medical purposes."

"Kayla, if you could get that classified as a medical procedure covered by insurance, you would make half the planet very happy men!" I told her. "Wow! Just, wow! And you didn't just masturbate me. You did oral, too, and you swallowed. That puts you in the Goddess category, right there."

In the dim light, I actually saw her blush.

"Please don't be embarrassed, Kayla," I tried to reassure her. "You were phenomenal. I will never, ever forget you. You are my Angel of Mercy."

She just shook her head slightly and started to pull the covers back up over me.

"Um... Kayla, before you do that, can you either help me to the bathroom or get me something to piss in? I know that's indelicate, but with the erection down... I really need to pee!"

She laughed a little... a choir of angels on earth... and helped get me and my IV to the toilet, although I was wincing all the way. Whatever was screwed up in my back was still screwed up. But that piss was only second to that orgasm in total relief, and actually, it may have been a tie. When I'd finished and she'd gotten her volume, she helped me get cleaned up and back into the bed.

"I hope you can get some sleep now, Mr. Foster," she smiled. "It is Friday morning and the kitchens open at six o'clock. If you'd like to fill out a breakfast card, I would be more than happy to make sure they hold it for you until you are awake. I am off shift at eight, but the other nurses will make sure you're fed. Remember you are on a clear liquids diet, although I will write up in my notes that you seemed to tolerate the previous foods very well."

"Kayla, I am not joking," I told her. "You are an angel. A put-on-the-Earth by God Himself angel. I hope I get to see you again."

"I am working nights all weekend, Mr. Foster," she smiled. "I'll check in on you when I come back on shift at midnight. Get some sleep, sir..." She reached over and turned off the night lights, then worked her way out of the room.

I lay back and actually managed to fall asleep, comfortably.

* * * * *

That was one of the strangest, most frightening, most exciting things I have ever done in my life, I thought as I headed home to laundry, shopping, one dog and three cats. I guess I'm some kind of crazy because I'm really, really wet.

I'd told Rita that I'd "made Mr. Foster comfortable so he could get some sleep" and gave her the breakfast card. She nodded with a knowing look and said something about "welcome to the Big Leagues, dear," before telling me she'd pass on the diet information to Dr. Carlton.

I got my chores done, even though severely distracted by memories of that very large, very turgid phallus and the joy I'd felt at Mr. Foster's ecstasy and ensuing relief. I had never tasted a man before and I found him fascinating. I'm very conversant with the technical side of it. I'd just never done it.

I surprised myself. I was fascinated by the feeling of his skin sliding through my hand. I'd gotten some Surgi-lube because I'd heard that lubrication made the sensation much more pleasant, which made sense because it certainly does for me. Even with the slipperiness of the lube, his skin still felt amazing. And I really liked playing with the flare of his glans. Each time I'd play with the frenulum, he'd get a big bead of preseminal fluid flowing out of his urethra. Absolutely fascinating.

The sweetness of his semen surprised me, too. I'd heard all kinds of stories, mostly from girlfriends, about how guys tasted like everything from burnt butter to tinny metal. And salty. Several girlfriends complained that they couldn't give good head to their boyfriends because they gagged on the salty taste. But Mr. Foster was kind of sweet, kind of bland. Very pleasant.

I loved how he kept calling me an angel. I'm not, of course. I'm just a simple girl trying to do well, living a simple life. Once I'd gotten the animals fed, watered and walked - in the case of Charlie, short for Emperor Charlemagne, my Irish Setter - I puttered around for awhile, showered and went to bed. And lay there daydreaming about Mr. Foster. They say you never forget your first. Well, right then I wished I could. He was keeping me from getting to sleep.

Three orgasms later, I managed to fall out.

* * * * *

I woke up and hit the call paddle. I was hungry. And the damned erection was back.

"Yes, Mr. Foster," a matronly type nurse greeted me as she responded to the call. "How may I help you?"

"Well, I'd like to know what time it is," I told her. "But more importantly, I'd like two eggs scrambled, sausage, toast with butter and jelly, orange juice and coffee."

"That, Mr. Foster," she lectured me with a smile trying to peek out, "is not a Clear Liquids diet."

"I know. Wishful thinking," I told her. "I suppose it's gelatin time again."

"Well, to answer your first question, it is about half past noon on Friday," she informed me. "And secondly, Dr. Carlton would prefer you had a bowel movement before you start solid foods, but he has authorized a standard diet for you, regardless. The kitchen is still taking lunch orders. We can probably convince them to do breakfast for you. You're a bit of a celebrity, you know."

"After four days of liquid, I don't think I have anything to 'move'," I told her. "But I'll be happy to comply whenever I can. And just so we're straight, I'm not a celebrity. I'm a simple man who was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got hurt. And if I can get breakfast, that would be wonderful. If not, get me a lunch menu, please. By the way, who are you?"

"I'm Louise," she told me. "I'm the Charge Nurse on this shift." She walked over and checked the machines for my vitals, then lifted the sheet and looked at my now-painful-again erection. After a moment, she put the sheet back down, made a couple of notes on my chart, then turned and smiled to me.

"I'll see what I can do about the food," she told me and I nodded gratefully. "And your favorite nurse will be back at midnight tonight."

Holy fuck, everybody knows about it! I thought. That is so unfair to Kayla.

"You know, you don't have to spread that around," I told her pointedly. "It was just getting me some relief that I badly needed. You ought to leave her alone."

"It isn't being 'spread around', Mr. Foster," she told me. "I only know because the night shift Charge Nurse told me during turn-over. Kayla obviously did a thorough job, because you've slept straight through for almost eight hours. Let us know if you need help getting to the bathroom."

"Yes, ma'am!" I told her. She shook her head and smiled slightly, then left. I laid back and started daydreaming about my Angel of Mercy. I was still daydreaming and softly humping a pillow when my food arrived. And with it came Louise.

"I thought I'd help feed you, Mr. Foster," she told me as she arranged the tray table. "Your current situation might prove overly distracting to others on the staff."

"Whereas, there's no chance you'll get distracted," I smiled. "Competent, professional and efficient!" I meant it as a compliment.

"There is a very good chance I'll get distracted, Mr. Foster," she told me with a kind of faux-gruffness in her voice. "I may be a grandmother, but I am for a reason, and I am not dead!" Then she broke into the smile and we had our understanding. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed to help me eat and of course, when she sat, I winced. The sheets pulling tight over my cock shot pain through my belly and legs.

She stood right back up again and without a word, walked over to the door and closed it. Then she came back, pulled the sheets down off my cock and sat on the edge of the bed again, politely ignoring the purple flagpole waving in the breeze. Her solution worked and she got me fed without there being any additional pain to what I was already constantly feeling. Institutional food usually sucks, but this hospital must have had a decent kitchen staff because it was fine. Louise helped me until I was full, then tidied everything up.

Before leaving, she went to put the sheets back over me and paused, looking at my raging hard-on.

"It does seem so unfair," she observed softly, "that your heroic actions were rewarded with pain rather than ecstasy." She reached out and gently took my throbbing cock in her hand and examined it. Then she just as gently put it back down and covered me.

"Would you like a pillow over your groin, for pain relief purposes, Mr. Foster?" she asked as she tented the sheets up even more so they weren't pressing down on me. I shook my head and she made one more comment as she turned to go.

"Kayla is young and rather inexperienced, Mr. Foster," she told me. "And whether she realizes it or not, I think she may be smitten with you. Please be kind. And if you need the hand of experience... just call."

With that offer, she took the food tray and left. I lay back and wondered how the fuck long it was going to take for my spine to heal.

* * * * *

I was as nervous as one of my kitty-cats on bath day as I approached the nurses' station. I had the proverbial butterflies dancing and all, and I knew damn well I needed to get my game face on. The idea that I might get to spend some time with Mr. Foster just kept intruding and severely distracting me. Not good when it came to patient care.

I checked in and got updated. Mrs. Heatherton was still kicking up a ruckus, Mr. Palmer had been discharged, we had a new arrival, a young woman named Ms. Newcastle who'd been in an auto accident and required surgery to put her back together... and Mr. Foster was still our guest, now awake more often and very grumpy. Or so the second shift said.

Rita smiled at me as she was handing out assignments. "He's yours," is all she said.

"He..." I prompted. I didn't want to jump to conclusions.

"Foster, Kayla. You're his primary tonight. Try to keep him comfortable, he's had a long day."

"Did the media get to him?" I asked. It was one of the things I dreaded. I hated it when the paparazzi turned the hospital into a circus.

"No, Security won't let them on the floor. Every visitor is getting vetted," she told me. "You'll notice on his chart that he's on solid foods now, but his sleep schedule is all screwed up, so we made a deal with the Kitchen to keep a couple of warmable dinners in our refrigerator. They've got an 'F' marked on them." I nodded and looked at his chart while she went on with the others' assignments.

I was going to take care of him tonight. The ramifications of that simple phrase made my nethers clench and flood. I suddenly felt very justified in putting on the pad before coming in, and sticking a few in my purse. I also knew I needed to stay as detached as possible, if I was going to do my job. I couldn't let myself get emotionally involved with him any more than on a nurse-patient basis.