Clinic Solution
When I met the new patient room 73 I thought it was just another abandoned comatose patient. Room 73 is located at the end of the corridor and is used in the hospital for patients who are unconscious and are never identified. They are like the children of the underworld, no one to look or care for them. All nurses make rounds got used to the room 73, but only one is responsible for the hygiene of the procedure.
Wednesday was day one of my colleagues had a family emergency. He asked me to clean the patient at room 73. I did not want to, but I accepted. You never know when you’ll need the same concessions.I walked into that room with some discomfort. Part of our job is to groom the sick, but those who pass by comatose are particularly nasty. I settled soap and sponge in the next bureau. I drew the curtains. I watched the inner profile and froze. I had already discussed some nurses that our new patient had a peculiarity which made it very special: the blow on the head had caused a brain injury that kept his erect penis during most of the day. Despite knowing it, I blushed at that picture: the sheet over his body seemed like a strong store campaign, impossible to unravel at the harshness and verticality of such a stake.
I wanted to touch it. I pulled the sheet hard and found the best cock I had seen in my life. At that moment I remembered with some malice that should bathe him. I smeared the soap directly with my hands. As he did came Dr. Moreno. I tried to hide the expression on my face.
At first I was embarrassed to approach the room. Although I have years of being a nurse and I know comatose patients are not aware of what happens around him,i felt he perceived the lasciviousness with i was watching him. I do not usually talk with other nurses. Only they spoke of the exploits of their children or complained about the wanderings of their husbands. While I was also married with children, I never felt that i have found meaning in my life. When you study medicine or nursing you learn the meaning of your life is to maintain and save lives. However, I did not agree. My life became meaningless for several years.
Every day i was more and more bored with complaints from patients and their demands for attention. I did not want to go to my house to review the tasks of children while trying to watch a soap opera. The worst came when the sunlight faded behind the roofs of the buildings opposite to the hospital. I layed next to the fat sucker i lived with and disputed like always about the TV remote. If that was the meaning of my life,i would have preferred to die.
It was long ago that the fat bastard and i were together. My neighbor had told me he had a lover, a much younger woman. My neighbor, always bitchy, thought that if she told me about this affair, I would burn with rage and jealousy. But no, if I could have the girl face to face i would appreciate her that he took that jerk from me. A long time ago I stopped to think about sex.When you go to sleep and the person next to you becomes a lump breathing jerk, sex is canceled. I had stopped thinking about sex, of course, until it appeared the patient in room 73.
To have it so close I realized it was not as long as the models of pornographic magazines, but enough to get to the site that any woman wants them. It was not as wide as that of that grotesque black actor whom i saw in a movie , but enough to push hard every wall of my vagina. And yet, aside dimensions, the most important was his firmness. The harshness with which lifted the sheet. The perennial disposal of the stake.
Two weeks ago a nurse of the night shift requested that someone would supply because it had an unavoidable commitment. As I always refused to do double shifts taking it as a pretext for my children, no one asked me if I could do it. I caused some astonishment when I volunteered without being requested. The offer was so convenient that no one came to ask me questions. I told my husband,the jerk who seemed to celebrate the news, but not before warning me that he would leave in a couple of hours to a job meeting.
That night was the first time I could touch it with serenity. Room 73 was up to another nurse. It was she who had the privilege to bathe and rub the stake as it surely wet her panties. During the night shift it was different. I was the one that made the rounds. When there are no accidents, emergency room nights are quite quiet. Almost everyone was asleep.I entered the room 73, The first thing I did was drag a chair to the foot of the bed. I opened the curtains to let in the light of the street; So, if someone woke up he or she would not suspect because the light of room 73 was on. Not that the gloom bothers me. Just I wanted to see. I wanted to see it calm and to think dirty things…
I pulled the sheet. There was the huge stake that held the tent. To look it was not enough, I got up from the chair. I peeked through the door and took a look at both sides of the aisle. Everything was silent. Then I had the crazy idea to masturbate him. I layed beside him on the bed and put my steady hand. I began to move. To raise and lower. With the other hand I stroked my breasts and I pinched my nipples. Between my gasps i could not understand what was exciting me so much. I kept rubbing until I came. I covered the stake, and it was now mine. And I went to the hallways to make a round.
I got home at breakfast time. The neighbor had taken my children to school. My husband looked so radiant like me. I imagine it’s one of the effects that are achieved when you get sex away from home. Hardly we talk at breakfast. I only looked into his eyes and smiled trying to hide my guilt. I watched him eat for a few moments. His brusque manner and his failed attempts to start a conversation got it. Until that moment I did not understand what was that excited me so much patient room 73: a cock is not a man.
At that moment I made the decision and communicated it to the jerk: “I’ve been thinking about working double shifts.” He looked astonished and asked, “Why? we do not need to”. I tried to be persuasive, I explained him that the children are not causing great expenses now, but in college it would be different. I said that only i wanted to give them all.My decision was something that suited us both. He would have time for his youngster. I had time for room 73. The following week i started to make double shifts. I had the thrill of a schoolgirl. I wore sexy underwear, as if he could see me. The idea of feeling beautiful for him was enough. With difficulty I took a mirror to the hospital. I hid in the closet of his room. The next time it will not be enough for me to see him. He had to see me. The following night was a lot of movement in the hospital. Run over, gunshots and suicide attempts. Still it gave me time to get to contemplate it even for a few minutes. Uncover the sheet and lick his face as i stroked the stake. It took several weeks to reach a peaceful night. Again the clinic was plunged into silence. Nurses and doctors took their nap. I made sure everyone was resting. I told the manager of the emergency entrance I would make the rounds, it was not necessary that others were alert. I slipped quietly into the room 73. There was the tent waiting for me. I took the mirror of the small closet and put it behind his head. I lifted the sheet up to cover his face. This time I got off the dress to the waist. I unfastened my bra… I masturbated it with my breasts as i watched my face in the mirror. The oddest thing was that the woman I saw reflected was not me. It was someone else. I could not recognize myself in this lewdness with carmine fluorescent highlighting my lips. Neither seemed familiar the brightness in my eyes, mouth contorted in a gesture of painful pleasure. I took off my thong. it is been centuries since i used one. I averted my breasts and pounced opening my mouth as much as i could. The stake entered my mouth almost complete. I sucked and I desperately wanted to bite….
I bit it as i savored. No complaints were made for my rudeness. I ignored the mirror and turned to put the pussy on his face. I uncovered his face, which until then had given no importance, and i rubbed in his nose and mouth. I was about to come when I heard the ambulance siren. I got up quickly, getting dressed as I could. I went back to hide the mirror. I managed to get into the bathroom to get dressed. I rubbed my face with soap. I Could not stop the heart rate and much less remove the lipstick on my face.
Leaving the bathroom I ran into a paramedic running toward the emergency entrance. “A gunshot wound”, he told me to move to my side. “Another assault by taxi,” he added while going ahead
When I went to the emergency room I found the victim’s body covered in blood. Their groans echoed in the rooms. I was nervous. I made beginner’s awkwardness. I was stunned and upset with the reckless emergency. Dr. Moreno scolded me severely. I wanted to tell him: “Do not you ever have been interrupted just at the moment you’re going to have an orgasm?” He asked me to withdraw and leave the other nurses do their job. “That happens sometimes, you better go take a break,” he said. That morning, at breakfast, I was especially bad. In this years working at the hospital i had never received a reprimand. On the contrary, I always excelled for my dedication and commitment to service. However, i was now failing. i should end with this. I had to tell him. But he was in a coma and made everything more difficult.
“How is it going in the guards?” the jerk of my husband asked. And i was not wanting to talk so i told him: “Yesterday was a shot by assault … Sorry, I’m very tired and I have to go to sleep,” When i was trying to get up the jerk stopped me and took me by the waist. “It is still early and I can arrive a little late,” he insinuated as he tucked his hands under my uniform.
He was too excited to discover that i was wearing a thong. He led me to the bedroom and undressed in front of me as if his body were a pretty sight. I took off my uniform and I lay in bed. I pulled the thong flip and spread my legs. i did not want to touch or see. I just wanted to finish what yesterday interrupted the fucking guy getting shot.
Another night at the clinic. I tried to be more helpful than usual. I wanted to erase the impression caused the ringside doctor. That night I did not enter the room 73. Each time that i had to cross that aisle my heart throbbed with despair. Just to remember the hardness of his cock made me feel wet. But I could endure. I did not want to arouse suspicion.
My husband went for me .We went to Vips which is near the hospital. He told me his plans for independence and to put his own repair shop. Although he did well as a sales manager, his dream was to be his own boss. I encouraged him, of course, not before saying the great idea of double shifts, “So, now that you are starting your business, we have two incomes .” His eyes filled with tears. He kissed my hands as he watched me with gratitude. The following weeks i had the burden of having the jerk every night early. He was in charge of giving the children dinner and having them ready when I arrived for the morning breakfast. My neighbor told me that he had seen the young girl who was her lover with a man of his age. “Surely she gave a kick in the ass to your husband,” specified with poison. I felt sorry for the jerk, which had to depend on the will of a little woman. I, however, had what i needed without regrets or complaints.
One morning the jerk invited me to go for breakfast. We were sitting in the cafe on the corner when he asked me to leave the graveyard shift. I poured a cup of coffee by nervousness. “What is that?” I asked. He confessed that it broke his soul to see me work so hard. He claimed that no longer we have sex. He said that my children needed me and that with the auto parts no longer need another entry. As if that were not enough, he showed me excited that he was paying insurance for the children so they could study at a private university when the time came. I said nothing. I had no excuses left. Then I played my last card: “Of course, you probably already left the girl who were you fucking…and now you feel like you miss me.” Just to think that i should leave the graveyard shift made me shiver. I stood offended as he was embarrassed to discover that I was aware of his love affairs. I returned to the hospital for my only comfort. I walked into the room 73 and discovered the empty bed. I could not stop crying. I went to the nurse who attended him in the morning: “You had gone five minutes when seizures began … He died almost instantly.” I was stunned. I had lost again the meaning of life. What would I do without the tent? What would be of me without the perennial stake which i was having fun every night? What would become of me without being able to sit on it?? Shocked and tearful i walked down the hallway of the hospital when I ran head-on with the fat jerk. He approached me with glassy eyes and put his arms around me. I dropped my weight on his body as he sobbed with grief. The jerk thought my tears were caused by his infidelity. He apologized a thousand ways. He took my face and assured me that would not happen again. I did not believe, but that was what I cared less. I suggested that he was right and i did not just forgive his infidelity but also left the night shift. We walked down the aisle embraced. I imagine we formed a romantic scene for the way others were watching us. Yet I could not stop crying. The jerk overflowed promises. I was only a child crying before the inevitable departure of that tent and stake that held it.
My husband went for me .We went to Vips which is near the hospital. He told me his plans for independence and to put his own repair shop. Although he did well as a sales manager, his dream was to be his own boss. I encouraged him, of course, not before saying the great idea of double shifts, “So, now that you are starting your business, we have two incomes .” His eyes filled with tears. He kissed my hands as he watched me with gratitude. The following weeks i had the burden of having the jerk every night early. He was in charge of giving the children dinner and having them ready when I arrived for the morning breakfast. My neighbor told me that he had seen the young girl who was her lover with a man of his age. “Surely she gave a kick in the ass to your husband,” specified with poison. I felt sorry for the jerk, which had to depend on the will of a little woman. I, however, had what i needed without regrets or complaints.
One morning the jerk invited me to go for breakfast. We were sitting in the cafe on the corner when he asked me to leave the graveyard shift. I poured a cup of coffee by nervousness. “What is that?” I asked. He confessed that it broke his soul to see me work so hard. He claimed that no longer we have sex. He said that my children needed me and that with the auto parts no longer need another entry. As if that were not enough, he showed me excited that he was paying insurance for the children so they could study at a private university when the time came. I said nothing. I had no excuses left. Then I played my last card: “Of course, you probably already left the girl who were you fucking…and now you feel like you miss me.” Just to think that i should leave the graveyard shift made me shiver. I stood offended as he was embarrassed to discover that I was aware of his love affairs. I returned to the hospital for my only comfort. I walked into the room 73 and discovered the empty bed. I could not stop crying. I went to the nurse who attended him in the morning: “You had gone five minutes when seizures began … He died almost instantly.” I was stunned. I had lost again the meaning of life. What would I do without the tent? What would be of me without the perennial stake which i was having fun every night? What would become of me without being able to sit on it?? Shocked and tearful i walked down the hallway of the hospital when I ran head-on with the fat jerk. He approached me with glassy eyes and put his arms around me. I dropped my weight on his body as he sobbed with grief. The jerk thought my tears were caused by his infidelity. He apologized a thousand ways. He took my face and assured me that would not happen again. I did not believe, but that was what I cared less. I suggested that he was right and i did not just forgive his infidelity but also left the night shift. We walked down the aisle embraced. I imagine we formed a romantic scene for the way others were watching us. Yet I could not stop crying. The jerk overflowed promises. I was only a child crying before the inevitable departure of that tent and stake that held it.
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