Visiting Nurse

The following story is fiction. Any resemblance of any person to any of the characters portrayed in this piece is merely coincidence. This story happened only in the mind of the author. A special thanks to my editor who fixes my errors.

As I walked into the office building today, it was as if I was entering it for the first time. Even though I had worked here since graduating college, today was different. Today I was coming as the new Vice-President of Marketing for the entire Midwest United States for one of the premier marketing firms in the U.S.; Foyt, Stewart, & Jones Inc.

I rode the elevator to the 12th floor and as I stepped off the elevator, I was greeted with the booming voice of Robert Foyt, the big burley CEO.

"Mr. Rutherford. Good to see you so early this morning." We shook hands and Mr. Foyt escorted me to my new office.

I couldn't help but trace my fingers across the nameplate on the door,Mr. Brighton Rutherford-VP Midwest Marketing."Mr. Foyt, if you don't mind, I need to get a number of boxes of files and other personal items from my old office on the 2nd floor."

"Brighton, call me Robert," my boss said warmly, "it's only proper that we begin being on a first name basis, now that you're one of my right hand people in keeping this company as the best marketing firm in the country."

"Yes, Robert," the words felt awkward on my tongue because he'd been "Mr. Foyt" for so long.

"If everything's packed up, let me get the shipping crew to bring everything upstairs. Executives like yourself don't have to do a lot of manual labor anymore...unless you'd rather do it yourself."

"Well, there's a couple calls I have to make this morning; we're trying to close that deal with Pillsbury and they need me to approve the latest negotiations." I said, relieved that someone else would be hauling up all those file cabinets and boxes.

Sharon Brandt stepped up and said, "Mr. Rutherford, until you decide on a secretary, I've been assigned to work for you. Is there anything I can do for you?" She took me by the arm and gently started leading into my office. "Robert will talk to you for hours if you let him. I will keep him at bay so you can get settled." Sharon was probably 25 years older than myself, and had a mother-hen sort of reputation. I was going to keep her because sometimes I needed that help

"Sharon," I told her, "when it's just the two of us, please call me Brighton. When clients are around, then Mr. Rutherford, but otherwise, I'm Brighton." I smiled at her and she tussled my hair like I was a little kid and just laughed.

The morning went quickly. Sharon had already learned that I was an avid coffee drinker. I like my coffee hot, with cream and sugar. She even asked if I'd like a coffee maker in my office so I could get some without leaving the office.

About two o'clock, I was nearly organized in my office, and we'd finalized the deal with Pillsbury. I was sipping my coffee when the intercom buzzed.

"Mr. Rutherford, there's a Patricia Hazelton to see you. She's from the Mutual Fidelity Insurance. She's here about the company life insurance policy."

Crap, just what I need, some pushy salesperson trying to sell me insurance I don't need.I thought to myself. I took a long swallow of coffee and said to Sharon, "Send her in."

The fact that I was surprised by the young woman who walked through the door was obvious to anyone who could have seen my face. For into my office strode this gorgeous redhead, with a bright and vivacious smile. She was dressed in hospital green scrubs and a windbreaker that said, "Visiting Nurses Association."

"Come on in and have a seat," I said, motioning to the leather chair in front of my desk. She came in and placed what almost looked like a tackle box on the floor, looked around the office and offered her hand.

"I'm Patricia Hazelton. I am from the Visiting Nurses Association. I've been asked by your employer's insurance company to get a quick update on your medical condition for your policies. If you'd like, I can show you my credentials and the orders." She spoke in a quiet, yet authoritarian tone of voice. She seemed to be someone you would not want to mess with.

"Well, if you aren't from the group you say you are with, you sure have a lot of guts walking in here like this. So, tell me, what do you need from me?" I said in a more compliant tone of voice.

She proceeded to walk over to the curtains that covered the windows that faced into the rest of the building and began closing them. "Please tell your secretary that you will not be disturbed by anyone until I am finished. Understood?"

An almost helpless feeling sped through my body. "Yes, ma'am," I squeaked out. "Just what is going on here?"

"Foyt, Stewart, & Jones purchases life insurance polices for each of its upper level management people. For the insurance to take effect, a physical examination is necessary. However, since you people seem reluctant to go to the doctor, Mutual hires us to come and give the screening physical to you, here in your office on your time. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" Her hands were on her hips, her face stern, yet somehow gentle.

"Uhm...No," I shook my head and sat down in my chair, curious as to what was about to happen.

"I need you to slip out of your clothing. Leave your under shorts on, but take off everything else." The petite young nurse was unpacking many different things from her container. Many of them I wasn't sure what they were. It had been at least 10 years since I went to the doctor.

Patricia saw that I was undressed and ordered me to come to the center of the room, where she had set up a scale. "Step up and stand still," came the order. I stepped up on the scale. "183 pounds. That weight would be perfect if you were about 4 inches taller." The only sound you could hear was my ego deflating.

"Sit here on this chair," she instructed, pointing to an armless chair by the conference table. She proceeded to take a plastic cover and place it over the thermometer and instructed me to put it in my mouth. While that was registering, she checked my pulse, respiration and blood pressure. Finally, the thermometer beeped. "Hmm...were you drinking coffee just before I came in?" she asked.

"Yeah," I responded a little off handedly, "Would you like a cup?"

"You don't get it! I can't get an accurate temperature reading when you guys insist on drinking coffee right before."

"Well, no one told me you were coming. If you had made an appointment, this wouldn't have happened."

She shook her head, "If I made appointments, you would play games with the system. I have to be able to do this announced." She pulled out a large blue plastic covered pad. It looked like something you'd slip under a baby for changing. "Ok, Mr Coffeemate, drop your shorts and bend over the table. I will take it rectally."

"What, no way! Forget it. I refuse." I said, standing with my arms crossed.

"Fine, have it your way. But, your refusal means you won't pass the screening and that's cause for termination. Either bend over, or kiss your nice little job bye–bye!" She was acting so smug now.

"Alright, you win," I dejectedly bent over the table as I heard the snap of a glove and the squirt of some lube on her finger. Unceremoniously, she spread my cheeks and I felt a cold finger force it's way inside my ass. "Hey, be careful, I'm not used to having things go in through there. It's an exit only."

All I got for my objection was a smack on the ass.I need to turn this bitch in for the way she's treating me,I was thinking. Almost as quick as it went in, she pulled it out.

"Well, there's no fever." She handed me a couple tissue and told me to sit back on the chair. I attempted to clean the goo from my backside, pulled my briefs back up and took a seat. She listened to my heart and lungs. She commented that it was a good thing I wasn't a smoker, as she knew the offices up here were all smoke free.

Next thing I know, she's walked over to her container and pulls out a large wide mouth bottle. "Mr. Rutherford, I am required to collect a urine sample. Since we don't have a toilet in your office, you will use this bottle." She handed it to me with a smug almost sadistic grin on her face. "We are doing drug testing, so I must observe you giving the sample."

"You expect me to piss in this bottle in front of you? What are you nuts? No. Get out of here."

"Mr. Rutherford, may I remind you that the contract you signed states that failure to pass the health screening and drug testing is grounds for dismissal." She stood there with a grin like a cat just having caught the canary.

I took the bottle, turned around and lowered my shorts. Before I could start peeing, the nurse from hell said, "Turn around, I have to watch you pee in the bottle." How humiliating. After trying hard to relax, I could finally allow myself to piss into the bottle. She took it and sealed it, and placed a label on it. She quickly changed gloves.

"Since your shorts are lowered, there are only two things left for me to check." I could swear this woman was enjoying the humiliation she was heaping upon me. "I need to check for hernias and also a quick prostate exam."

Knowing I could not prevent her from completing her tasks, I simply stepped out of the briefs and tossed them on my desk.

"Stand here and face me." She said. Slowly she reached out and gently checked for hernia. "Cough for me. Again." Her fingers were gentle, unlike her prior attitude. "Now, Mr. Rutherford, please bend over the table, spread your legs and try to relax. The more you tense up, the more it will hurt."

I leaned over the table, and heard the unmistakable sound of lubricant being squirted onto fingers. "Relax now." I felt her rub the cool gel on my ass, and then a finger slip inside me. "See this isn't too bad, is it?"

I was getting very confused, she had two fingers in my ass, they were uncomfortable, but yet, strangely it was feeling really good. My cock was responding by rising to the occasion. Almost in an instant, I was fully erect.

"That's a good boy Mr. Rutherford. You're being such a good little boy for me. Feel this?" she gently rubbed my prostate.

I couldn't help but let out a moan. "Oh wow. That feels kinda good."

The nurse quietly asked me, "Is this the first time you've ever had a prostate exam?"

"Uh huh, in fact, the first time anyone's ever touched me there. It makes me feel funny."

"Mr. Rutherford, are you married? Are you sexually active?" she asked.

"Nope, I've been too busy getting my career to where it is to have time for a wife."

"How often do you masturbate?" Her question didn't surprise me, based on the conversation.

"Lately, not too often. Working for this promotion has had me thinking of nothing but work."

"Well, if you promise not to tell anyone about what happens next, I can show you how good prostate play can feel with masturbation." She lubed up her other hand and removed her fingers from my ass. "Lie back on the conference table, knees bent."

I followed her instructions, realizing how aroused her touching my backside had made me. When I was lying how she wanted me, she took her index and middle finger and inserted them back into my ass. Her free hand she used to start stroking my cock.

It wasn't long before precum was oozing from the head of my cock. The sensations were getting much stronger; I was feeling things that I hadn't felt for quite some time. As her fingers pushed deeper and deeper into my ass, she gently massaged my prostate, until I couldn't stand it any more. Trying to remain as quiet as I could, I felt my cock spasm and my cum erupted from my cock, shooting up and landing on my belly, on the table next to me, even some on Patricia's face. I couldn't believe how strong the climax was. I lay there on the table, totally spent.

Patricia cleaned up most of my mess off my belly and peeled her gloves off her hands. Tossing them in the trash, she packed up her equipment and suggested that I pull myself together and get dressed. I did so, in a daze, hardly believing what happened to me.

As I turned my back to finish tucking my shirt in and putting on my suit coat, I heard the door open and quickly close. I rushed to the door, but she had disappeared. I returned to my desk and discovered a note:Mr. Rutherford, you need a follow-up check up. Give me a call; we can do it at my place or yours. 411-555-6783.