Night Shift on Unit 3

In my line of work, the patients aren't patients as much as they're prisoners.

They're the ones that "plead insanity" rather than go to prison for their heinous crimes... Murder, rape, violence... Mostly murder.

Their bedrooms are not much better than jail cells, but at least they get to be doped up all the time.

It's not a sexy place. My coworkers are either Chris Farley as the Lunch Lady or the Smoking Man in the X-Files, but wrinklier.

They love me, though, and just because I don't want to bang any of them doesn't mean we can't get along.

I'm on the 11pm - 7am shift, and after driving through snow and wind and getting buzzed through security, I head straight to the breakroom to stow away my winter clothing and grab a tea. I'm wearing an old pair of scrubs from when I was a few sizes smaller. The patch of skin at the small of my back shows when I even slightly bend over. I just hope the little black thong I'm wearing doesn't peek out.

I stomp into the room with blinders on. My last night shift before they don't show up on my rotation again for five weeks. I want this night to be over and without incident. I want to be home, I want to be out with my friends, I want to be anywhere but this certified hell-hole.

A glass clinks at the kitchen counter and startles me. I jerk around, but the man has his back to me. "Is that you, Francis?" I ask, thinking it's one of the ancient nurse's aides.

The man turns to me, holding a coffee mug. "Hey, sorry, I'm new here. I, uh, think I fucked up the coffee machine downstairs."

I don't answer, just stare, and my lips part. His waist is thin with a plaid shirt tucked into orange chino pants.

The outline of his manhood is clearly visible through the fabric near his crotch, and it's a goddamn beast. It's soft, but I can tell it's one of those cocks that if I blew it a kiss, it would be standing eight inches tall with a dab of clear liquid ready to fall off its tip and leave a trail of spider silk all the way to the floor.

"You guys won't report me, will you? I'll pay you back." He smirks with one side of his mouth. He's got a scruffy shave and one eyebrow raised over his foxlike eyes. I guess that he's a bit younger than me, but not more than a year or two.

"I don't mind." My voice comes out an octave higher than I was hoping. My cheeks are already red from the cold, but they turn a shade deeper.

"Thanks," he says. His smile is warm now.

I clear my throat. "So, are you the new janitor?" I clear my throat again. "I mean custodian?"

He laughs. "No. I'm not."

Oh god, is this a patient? My gaze snaps to the door.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. I'm not a patient, either." He throws his head back and cackles. "I forgot my labcoat in my office. It's my second week, and I don't get a lot of human interaction. I feel like a snob wearing it everywhere."

"Oh, of course, you're a doc. As you were, sir." Come on, Nicki. You're not in the darn military. I cover my face with my hand and look at him through my fingers. He's shaking his head and grinning.

"I'm not a doctor, either, ma'am."

"Can you just tell me what you are? Please? For the love of everything sacred, save me from whatever is happening."

He walks toward me, his smile reduced to a gentle upward curve of his lips. He reaches for my breast pocket and takes my ID badge in his hand. "I'm the pharmacist, Nicole."

I exhale like I've been holding my breath for the last minute.

"I'm Nick. Have a good shift."

As he goes to push the door open to go back down to the pharmacy and leave me forever, I say, "That's funny."

He stops and, without turning around, says, "What's funny, my name?"

"Well, I go by Nicki, and your name is Nick..."

He laughs. "Huh. That is funny. Slightly funny. Hardly funny." He pauses. "Hey Nicki, why don't you come visit me on your break?"

***

I do my first round completely conscious that my panties are soaked through. A pulse runs through my thighs and clit every few seconds--every time I picture that cock anywhere near my body, my hands, my mouth...

I duck into the staff bathroom and slam the stall door shut.

If my already tight purple scrubs start to show a wet spot down there, and one of the staff... or, oh my god, one of the patients notices, I couldn't imagine.

I wouldn't be surprised if one of the patients could smell the pheromones.

I breathe deep and wad up a handful of toilet paper.

My scrub pants are at my ankles, and my little black thong hanging on above my knees.

I dab my juices out of my panties and then try to stop the rest from flowing out of my body.

It doesn't work. Every time I touch myself, even with the tissue paper, electric shocks course through my inner thighs and abdomen, and all of a sudden, I'm close to cumming.

I try to focus on something else. Wanda. She's 350 pounds and my patient. I bring her packaged ramen noodles every shift, and she calls me Noodle Mommy.

I laugh.

Thank god.

I compose myself and run cold water over my hands.

This is no place for sexy thoughts. Nick can sit in his pharmacy with a hard cock pressed against his zipper all night long, for all I care.

I walk back to the nurse's station feeling a bit proud of myself. I fought the urge to be a dirty slut in my place of work. Good for me.

But when you peel away the layers... there's a little spot in the lower part of the back of my mind where I'm laying on a bed in a rundown motel with my legs behind my head and a shit-eating grin on my face. To anyone who will listen, I'm saying, "Come fuck me. Open me up. I'm your little whore. Fuck me, please." And then Nick walks in.

I get to the nurse's station and sit down at the desk to do my charting. "Randall's room is empty," I say.

Francis, who's hunched over a Tupperware full of plain white rice, says, "Yeah, heart attack. Got all fucked up on something his brother snuck in for him. They found him stiff this morning."

"Shoot." Patients die all the time. I think it took two years of working as an RN before this kind of thing didn't follow me home. Now, it didn't even follow me to the restroom.

Francis stabs his fork into his dinner. "Can you do me a favor, Nicki?"

"Anything, daddy." I laugh and wink at him.

He smiles and shows me his set of yellowed dentures.

Jesus, I say to myself.

"I think the pharmacist is new and fucked up the Thorazine."

Oh, no. That feeling between my legs comes back with a vengeance. That cock outline. It might as well be printed on the backs of my eyelids. "How did he mess it up?"

"He didn't bring it up, that's how. We don't have any. Can you go and grab it and maybe teach him a thing or two while you're there?"

***

I slam the triplicate down, push my tits up, and lean over the pharmacy counter. "Thorazine. Where is it?"

"Excuse me?" I hear from one of the back rows of meds.

I giggle. "Hi, Nick!"

He pokes his head around the rack and then walks toward me with a grin on his face. He's wearing a lab coat now.

"It's right here." He gestures to a lunch tray holding neatly organized ramekins filled with pills.

"That's great," I say. "We need them on 3."

He spreads his arms with open palms, "They're all yours."

"The gentlemanly thing to do," I say, "is to bring them up for the lady."

"And here I thought you would take that as an insult."

"I'm pretty hard to insult," I say.

"Well, I'm getting pretty hard... Full stop."

My face flushes, and my pussy pulsates. I flick my hair, turn around, and walk away. Mostly to hide my blushing.

"Wait. Nicki. Oh my god. I'm..."

I stop and put both of my hands over my face. I don't turn around. I smile a little. I pause for a long few seconds. I want him to sweat. He needs to suffer a bit if before he gets the pleasure of his life.

"I didn't mean it," he says. "Please don't report this."

I keep walking, hands covering my face. I turn the corner and get on the elevator, and as soon as the doors slide shut, I let out a squeal.

***

I sit in the nurse's station across from Francis, my mind racing. He'll come up. There's no way he's leaving me up here to stew, actively sabotaging his career. He's tearing his hair out, I think.

He's pacing back and forth in that cramped pharmacy.

I need to time this right. I give him 15 minutes tops before the elevator door opens, and he rushes into the nursing station...

I don't want to be there. I want him to sweat even more.

The build-up is driving me wild.

I say to Francis, "I'm going to do my round."

The man looks at his wrist. He's not wearing a watch. "Already?"

"Yeah. I need the exercise."

"You? Need exercise?" He laughs. "I'll be here." He goes back to his Sudoku puzzles.

I push open the door to the unit, chart in hand, keys in my pocket.

None of the rooms are locked, except the empty ones... Randall's room.

It's been lights out for a couple of hours now, which means the hallway lights are dim, and the patients, except for a milk-curdling shriek every now and then, are sleeping.

I unlock Randall's door and flick the light on.

Good, it's clean. Human excrements. It looks like a perfectly fresh prison cell.

I turn around, and what feels like a jolt of electricity runs through me. I drop my clipboard.

"Hi," Nick says. "Sorry I scared you."

"Not the first time tonight." I exhale audibly.

"I came to apologize." He looks sincere.

"Well, I've already called the police."

"What the fuck?"

I burst out laughing.

He pushes me gently, and I sit back on the bed... I bite my bottom lip.

Then I sit forward and gesture with two fingers that he should come closer. He looks behind him through the small window in the door. It's dark out there and bright in here, which adds to the pure adrenaline that's pumping through my every vein.

He steps forward so that he's standing at the foot of the bed.

I reach for his belt buckle with both hands, and he grabs my fingers. "You sure?"

His cock presses against the fabric of his pants. I pull my right hand free and stroke the bulge gently with the tips of my manicured fingernails. "Are you not?"

I sit cross-legged on the bed and awkwardly struggle out of my scrub top. My tits are barely held in by my black lacey bra, and I'm sure at least one of my nipples is spilling out.

He goes for his belt.

This time I swat his hands away. "Let me."

I get onto my knees and undo the belt. He pulls his shirt up, showing me his ripped tummy with a nice pattern of light brown hair covering all the right places.

His dick is 100% hard now and starting to stain the front of his chinos. God, I love the sight of precum. The taste is even better.

I want that thing in my mouth before any more goes to waste.

I undo the button, unzip the fly, pull down the briefs, and hold his manhood in both of my hands and just stare with my tongue out.

I start at the base and lick all the up the shaft until that dab of slimy liquid hits the tip of my tongue. I shiver. I'm so fucking wet.

He looks over his shoulder again. "Can we make this quick?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it." I put my lips around the head of his cock and slowly take it into my mouth.

He shudders.

While I increase my tempo, I slide his pants and underwear down his legs so that they're crumpled around his ankles.

"What are you doing?" he whispers.

"I want you naked," I say, wiping the saliva from my chin.

"I want to fuck you."

"Then fuck me." I stand upright on my knees and untie the drawstring on my scrub pants, pull them down as far as they'll go, and turn around.

He pulls my thong to the side and spreads my ass cheeks. He gets down on his knees and licks my engorged pussy from front to back and doesn't stop until he's tasted my asshole. I moan uncontrollably. Someone on the unit screams in delight.

"Shhh," he whispers.

"Put it in me. Do it. I'm ready."

He does.

He enters me slowly but quickly finds his rhythm. He's hitting the spot that I love, going deep, but then pulling back and fucking shallow me so that his quick thrusts almost come out of me completely, but not quite.

I moan again. They're going to have to change the sheets again, because I'm dripping onto them. My whole body tenses, that warm feeling floods over me, I sbury my face into the bed and scream. My asshole and pussy clench.

I can tell he's close, too. His breathing is accelerating and his cock is pulsating inside me. His thighs are tensed and slapping against my legs.

Then I hear footsteps outside the room.

"Keep going," I say in a hushed voice.

"I'm there. I'm there."

"Cum for me, baby. Oh, baby, give it to me."

The footsteps are getting closer.

He pulls out, lets out a low grunt, and blasts a load that lands mostly between my shoulder blades.

The clip-clop of a nurse's shoes are right outside the only lit room in the facility.

I roll over, wipe most of the cum off my back onto the bedsheets, and am dressed within seconds.

Nick stands there looking like a man who had just woken up from a three-day bender.

"Nick, time to get dressed," I say as I stand up off the bed.

He snaps out of it and grabs his chinos up from his ankles. A wedding ring jingles out of one of the pockets and rolls under the bed.

I can hear it rolling in a circle, slowing down, and then tinkling to a stop.

"Fuck," Nick says.

I giggle.

There's a knock at the door, and I see Francis' bug eyes peering through the narrow window.

Francis opens the door slowly while Nick fumbles with his belt buckle. I'm sure he was hit with the smell of sex. "Everything okay in here, Nicki?"

Nick goes from his post-bender look to a kid who just got jerking off for the first time. He turns and, without making eye contact with Francis or me, bolts out of the room, almost knocking the old man over.

It's just Francis and me now. I shrug. "I know it's been a while, old man... Want sloppy seconds?"

***

Nick, if you're out there. I know you transferred immediately out of my unit, but I hold nothing against you. I actually wouldn't mind holding something you have against the back of my throat one more time.

Call the hospital and use extension #8436.