Nurse's Dilemma

Sara froze when she saw who was lying in the hospital bed.

This can't be happening, this cannot be happening, she told herself.

But it was.

He was here. At her work. By some cruel twist of fate.

And it was just her luck.

The man she'd had a small, drunken tryst with had ended up on her block of beds. He looked to be in some kind of pain.

The universe was taunting her.

She couldn't keep her cheeks from flushing as she stood halfway in the doorway.

He hadn't seen her yet, his eyes were on his phone, his face set in a grimace.

Sara took the moment before the storm to reflect on her weekend.

***

It had been Friday night.

Her roommates had wanted to go out, Sara hadn't. But, alas, she had caved to peer pressure. Margaritas were, after all, her kryptonite and they had been promised.

But she'd told herself she wasn't going to get dressed up. Too much, at least.

A simple little skirt and a sweater. A little leg and a tight outline of her breasts. Standard procedure.

Sara was tall, almost 5'8 with long, blonde hair. The kind that made people fall in love with Marilyn Monroe. Her body was a nice hourglass, thanks to soccer in college. Her ass was shapely and round like two soccer balls put together. Her tits were smallish, but no man had ever complained about that. She would have slapped them, but still.

They went to a little divey bar called Backyard. A smooth congregation of the local college students, workers from the local mills, and the techies.

Dumb money, desperate money, and big money, as the girls liked to say.

Sara hadn't had a boyfriend for about eight months. And had nothing but frisky make-outs and heavy petting since then.

It hadn't been a nasty break-up. It had hardly been love. But she had been busy. Between work, the gym, and family there hadn't been much time. She'd needed to decompress and learn to be alone anyway.

This had been the perfect opportunity.

But then Friday came. And she found herself making awkward, on-and-off eye contact with a man as she sat sipping rather idly in a corner booth.

The music was loud and she'd been feeling herself more and more as the margarita hit.

He did happen to be a rather handsome man. He sat with his own group of friends at the bar. He was stockier, with a powerful build. Big shoulders and strong looking hands. He wore a green flannel and jeans that ran down to boots.

His hair was a dark brown color and from a distance his eyes seemed to match. As did the thick mustache he wore. His jaw was like a slab of granite. His nose looked like it had been broken a time or two. Her time as a nurse had taught her the signs to look for.

This wasn't her usual type.

She had been partial to tall and skinny in the past. But there was something about his surety of movement and the almost amused glance he shot her That made her attracted to him.

Sara guessed he played some kind of sport like rugby or flag football or something. She hoped it was the former.

One of her girlfriends, Mandy, saw the distant flirtation happening and said, "He looks like he'd split you like an oil drum."

She was a skinny, dark-skinned girl with short, black hair and an air of royalty to her. Mostly due to the copious amounts of gold and silver jewelry She wore.

Sara frowned. "I don't even know what that means."

Mandy sipped her gin and tonic, eyeing the man. "Are you going to him, or is he coming here?" She wondered.

"Neither," Sara said flatly.

"I think he'll come here," Mandy continued, unperturbed. "He looks like he likes the game. And like he'll take charge."

"Doesn't matter either way."

Another one of their friends, Cora, spun around from the edge of the booth seat. "You need to get your panties out of a bunch. Orr..." her eyes twinkled. "Get them off completely."

"Agreed," Mandy said, and they clinked their glasses.

Sara groaned. "I'm not in the mood."

Cora leaned toward her, dropping her voice. "Look at his hands, Sara. His neck too. Looks like he could lift you over his head."

Sara snorted. "And?"

"He's just so goddamn masculine. Look at him. He looks dirty." Cora let out a breath. "I bet he's big too."

Sara slapped her friend on the shoulder. "That's what you need. Someone dirty. Someone who's not..." she searched for the word. "So clean."

"Well, that explains it," Sara mocked.

"She means someone who isn't so vanilla," Mandy explained.

Sara raised an eyebrow.

Mandy doubled down. "Your last guy was boring. Guy before that, boring. I mean come on. Live a little."

Sara's face got a little red. "I'm fine living the way I am."

She wasn't really but change was scary, and this mysterious man was an unknown quantity.

"Sure, scaredy cat," Mandy said. "I won't let you bring me down."

She scooted out of the booth and walked over to the man, her hips swinging provocatively. A quick look over her shoulder showed a feline smile.

"That bitch," Cora muttered, watching.

Sara just watched with unsurprised passivity.

Their conversation lasted all of a minute in which case Mandy came walking back, her cheeks flushed, but her tails between her legs, so Sara thought.

Mandy slid into the booth and said quietly, "His voice is so hot."

"And?" Cora pressed.

Mandy rolled her eyes. "He called me pretty...but doesn't want anything to do with me." She looked at Sara. "He said he can't keep his eyes off you."

Sara felt her cheeks flushing. "What does—"

"Don't be an idiot," Cora said, flashing the man a covert glance. "You know what it means."

"He won't wait forever. Go talk to him," Cora said, turning back around.

But Sara didn't. This game of cat and mouse they played with their eyes was enough. And she was too nervous.

So, as the night wore on, the other girls found men. They were bought drinks. And slowly got pulled away from the booth.

But it wasn't until Mandy vacated her spot that he came over.

It was smooth how he just happened to find himself there at the right time, and asked, "This seat taken?"

Sara had been tracking him from the corner of her eye.

"It would seem not," she replied.

He slid in, frowning. "Ouch, bad start. Should we try it again?"

Sara suppressed a smile. "Do you think it'll go any better? Maybe just try your pickup line?"

He nodded seriously, taking a deep breath. "Right into it, huh."

She nodded. "Best to get it over with."

"Alright, then." He composed himself. "Do you play quidditch? Because I know a keeper when I see one."

There was a beat of awkward silence as Sara blinked.

"Was that a Harry Potter joke?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Ah, I think I've been linked. Your friend over there told me you loved Harry Potter."

They both looked at Mandy, who was getting chatted up at the bar. She was covertly casting them looks and trying hard to stifle a smile.

Sara burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hands. The man turned slightly red, smiling madly in embarrassment.

"At least you're laughing," he said.

"True. You got me there," she said through choked laughter.

"That little minx," he said, shaking his head.

"Is that what she said to you?"

He nodded. "That and some other...inappropriate things."

"Sounds like her."

"I'm Jonathan," he said, reaching across with his hand.

She shook it, feeling his gentle strength as he squeezed her hand.

"Sara."

"So, Sara, if you're not into Harry Potter then what are you into?" He asked.

Sara took a moment to compose herself. She hadn't decided if she was going to entertain him yet.

But what was the harm? If she didn't like him, she'd never have to see him again.

And she didn't want to like him.

Th little look on his face told her he was reading her mind.

She shrugged. "Murder mysteries. The gym. Gardening."

"So, James Patterson, dumbbells, and roses."

She giggled despite herself. It wasn't even that funny for god's sake. What was happening to her?

"Something like that. Let me guess," she said eyeing him. "Work. Video Games. Rugby."

He smiled ruefully. "I think I should be insulted." Taking a sip of his mostly ice drink, he said, "I do like my work. I don't play video games. I prefer books as well. But fantasy. And yes, I play rugby."

Sara smiled in satisfaction. "I'm good."

"Lucky guess. My turn," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Midwest girl come to the east coast. Seeking the big city. Probably went to a good school. Sorority."

Sara glared at him. "I'm from Vermont. Farm girl. And I did go to a good school."

He became smug. "I'm good. Really good. Sorority?"

She nodded with an annoyed flick of her head.

They kept doing this for a while and much to her chagrin, she found herself laughing. He was funny, charming. He liked to sneak in little compliments about how pretty she was and how smart she was.

They hands met in the middle of the table by fortunate accident one too many times.

And she found herself drinking.

He was buying after all.

She was tipsy enough to find herself saying, "bathroom. Five minutes."

To which his eyes went wide, and he nodded.

She took the single person bathroom. Making sure he saw hr. Even through the haze she knew it was a bad idea, but he was handsome and sweet and funny. And the hands...she wanted them all over her.

"You will not fuck him," she told herself in the mirror. "No matter how good he smells."

Then there was. A knock on the door.

She opened it, ushering him in.

"We're filthy, you know that," he said.

"Shut up and kiss me," she said.

He obliged hungrily and their lips met in a hot flag. His were warm and eager.

A good kisser...she thought. A really good kisser. I'm in trouble.

Their hands wrapped around each other. She felt the hard muscles of his back while his strong hands grasped her waist and cheek.

They seemed to melt into each other.

And soon he was kissing her neck, dropping further toward her breasts. His hands pushed up the edges of her sweater.

"Your neck tastes so good," he breathed, his tongue roaming.

Sara all but fell into him, her hands groping his crotch, feeling the hardness there.

Ugh, she wanted that thing inside her. Badly.

His hands found her thighs and dragged up her skirt, drifting closer to her sex with each second.

Jonathan suddenly spun her so she was pressed to the sink, looking at the mirror. "You're so sexy."

A hand of his drifted up the front of her shirt to grab one of her breasts.

"God, you're perfect."

His other hand pulled up the front of her skirt and rubbed her clit over her panties.

Sara let out a moan and pressed back into him with her ass, feeling his hardness pressed to her cheeks. She wanted to catch it between them, but it was futile with their clothes on.

"I want to eat you," he told her.

"Yes," she moaned.

Her hands were flung to either side of the sink as he dropped to his knees. She felt him raise her skirt again just stop.

"Your ass is amazing," he said, squeezing it gently.

She giggled as he nibbled it. His hand slipped between her cheeks to rub her pussy again. Then he pulled them down and started in on her.

Sara was so wet he hardly needed to spit in her but did anyway, letting it run down between her cheeks, over her ass and to her pussy. One of his strong hands pressed on her back, making her bend over till her tits were laid on the sink.

God they really were filthy. He was on his knees and her tits were basically in the sink itself.

The thought only made her wetter.

His tongue licked up from her clit to her ass in one fell swoop.

Sara moaned far too loudly.

Then he did it again.

And again.

Before settling on her clit, moving his tongue in a rhythmic manner.

Sara felt herself shuddering at his touch, her finger white against the edges of the sink. In the mirror, she watched expressions of absolute pleasure wash over her face. And a small smile, at how out of hand this hand gotten.

When she came, she came hard, choking down her moans, and pushing her ass and pussy into his face. His hands on her hips pulled her back into him.

Finally, he let her go, rising and spinning her so she could see her wetness dripping from his lips.

Her actions barely felt like her own as she grabbed his belt, pulling it off him and stuffing her hand down his pants.

Sara's fingers had just wrapped around his cock when her phone began to ring.

She let out a frustrated groan, with half a mind to keep going. But she knew it was Mandy. The girls were going home. They wouldn't leave without her.

Maybe it was some kind of fateful moment. To stop her. To not let her put his cock in her mouth...

Sara treated it as such, releasing his cock and fishing her phone out of her purse.

"We're leaving," said a drunk Mandy. She didn't sound happy. "The car is here."

"Coming," Sara said quickly, hanging up. "I'm sorry, I've got to go. We're—"

She stopped short when she saw that he'd taken his cock out. It was thick like the rest of him, but long too. The many veins like vines just beneath the skin. She doubted she could fit the whole thing in her mouth.

Jonathan looked at her, stroking it slowly.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

Her hand flinched toward it, but she fought the urge to drop to her knees.

"No," she said a little too forcefully and stormed out of the bathroom, letting the door slam behind her.

Her last sight of him was of his strong hands pulling up his pants, putting away his large cock.

Sara swallowed as she flew out of the bar and into the waiting car. The girls were crammed into the back. They made room for her.

The closing of the door was followed by a stiff silence. The girl looked at her, waiting. When she said nothing, Mandy said, "Slut."

Cora slapped her shoulder.

"Ouch. That was a compliment. Now tell us all about it."

"When we feet home," she told the girls.

The driver up front would not be privy to her sex life.

So, on the ride home all she could think about was him standing there, cock in hand. Her imagination played out a scene of her getting on her knees.

Sara shook herself out of it.

But it was difficult to concentrate on anything. Stop thinking about his cock, you slut. Pick something else.

Well, she guessed his lips were nice too.

***

Sara came back to herself in the doorway, staring at her bar hookup laying in the bed. The man who'd made her cum.

Somehow, he hadn't seen her.

Summoning her courage, akin to the kind she had on Friday night, she strode in and grabbed his charts, trying not to hide behind them.

She read his condition with a dumbfounded kind of shock.

Testicular torsion.

Just her luck. The man shed almost fucked now needed his balls sorted or.

Looking up, she noticed he still hadn't seen her. It was possible he was in too much pain.

"You just couldn't stay away, could you?" She said in a wry voice.

His eyes went wide as his head jerked around. He howled with laughter when he saw her. But it choked off quickly as it was so painful.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said. "Am I just this lucky?"

Sara smiled, flipping through his chart. "Yet to be determined. This is one, Jonathan Hart," she said playfully. "Who has come down with a case of testicular torsion."

She said the last part flatly, as if alone in the room.

"How did this happen?" She asked.

He stared at her. Then he fumbled, "Its...well...it's not what you think. I was playing rugby."

"Right, so this had nothing to with a pretty blonde girl you met in a bar last Friday?"

His mouth worked soundlessly. "I wish. But I don't see how it could be. She ditched me with my pants around my ankles."

The comment made her smile. "And you are in pain?"

He nodded.

"On a scale of one to ten?" She asked, bringing out her pen.

"Five," he said evenly.

"You've tried untwisting them?"

"Obviously."

"Hmmmm." She marked it down. "Let's take a look."

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"I'll need to examine the area," she said as if it were obvious.

"What about the doctor?"

"Well, if you want the doctor, I'll get him. But I could also take care of this for you. I think you'll prefer my methods."

His eyebrows rose so far they also ran off his forehead.

Sara had no idea what she was doing. But her hindbrain was telling her she needed to touch this man as soon as possible. The thing between her legs was telling her to ride him till his heart gave out.

"It hurts to touch," he warned her.

"I'll be gentle," she told him, her heart quickening.

She pulled down the sheets from his lap and pulled up the light blue hospital robe. It was a struggle to be professional when she saw it. It was huge, even when semi-hard as it was.

It couldn't have felt good to have an erection with the torsion.

Sara took a deep breath and examined his cock, looking below it to his balls.

He had it shaved down to a thin layer of hair.

"Please move your penis so I can see the testicles," she asked him.

"I love it when you talk dirty to me," he managed to say.

He reached down gingerly and pulled the shaft back, holding it to his stomach. It had grown harder in those few seconds.

Sara grabbed a pair of gloves from a side table and pulled them on. "Do I have your permission to touch you?"

He snorted, grimaced, and nodded.

"Then I'm going to attempt to unwind them," she told him. "This might hurt a little."

Jonathan's smile was strained.

Sara was gentle when she touched them, making him wince. He rolled his head back and closed his eyes.

She found the little tubes from the testicles and traced them down. Then back up. It took her several minutes begging as carefully as possible to see where the problem was.

He hissed his pain several times but said nothing.

"Good job," she told him. This was going to be the painful part. The unwinding. "You might want to distract yourself. Maybe talk about something you like or..." she smiled. "Something fun that happened to you recently."

He chuckled. "Maybe I'll tell you about this beautiful blonde girl I ran into at a bar. Funny. Smart. Insane body."

"I like the sound of this girl," she said, slowly untwisting the testicles.

"Me too. She was charming and sexy and wild. So, we talk, laugh, drink and she invites me into the bathroom of this bar. I'm freaking out, she's so gorgeous."

Sara was blushing. "I almost don't believe you."

His forearm was over his forehead and his eyes were closed but still he smiled.

"I wouldn't either. So I go into this bathroom, lock the door and she all but attacks me."

Sara snorted.

"She's desperate for me, which I'm not surprised about. And she's a great kisser. So good I think I'm going to explode just by touching her."

Sara flight not to shiver. The warmth was growing between her legs like a storm.

"We're making out like crazy. It's so good. She's feisty and hot as hell. So, I go wild because I'm so turned on that I eat her out from behind..." he moans, his cock flexing against his other hand.

Sara was getting close to having them unraveled. The vein on his neck was pulsing.

"I made her cum," he said.

"Yes..." she agreed, swallowing.

"And she tasted so good."

Sara moaned. "Really?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," he said. "So good. Sweet like candy."

She felt his balls come loose of their tension and his whole body relaxed. Jonathan let out a big sign, mindlessly stroking his cock.

"Better?" She asked.

"God yes." He sat up, looking at her. "Like completely better. Immediately."

Sara nodded. "Usually how it works with this injury."

Jonathan nodded thoughtfully, his eyes on her hands which still held his balls.

She looked too. The light blue gloves holding the folds of gentle skin.

The sun had all but gone down in the since they'd started the little procedure. And the room's night lights were on.