His leg felt like it was encased in concrete and it hurt, a deep throbbing ache that matched his heartbeat. Oh, man, did it hurt. He opened his eyes a crack and shut them again, his only defense against the spearing sunlight. Conscious now, the memories poured through his mind like water over a dam at warp speed. The Kawasaki 600, a stretch of open highway spread out in front of him, the needle approaching 90 mph, when out of nowhere stepped a deer, right in his pathâŠspinning, sliding into the woods, a tree looming, a spiral of sky and sun and leaves and ground, and then nothing. Oh god, the bike. His precious bike, only 3000 miles on it, pristine, his pride and joy⊠Where was it? Was it drivable? How much was it going to cost to fix it? Could it even be fixed? And his insuranceâŠwellâŠthat would surely go through the roof if they didnât drop him like a hot potato. It was all too much and he slipped into unconsciousness again, unaware of the morphine which had just been pushed into his IV.
âRise and shine, sleepy head!â The voice broke through his drug-induced haze and jarred him awake again. He was dimly aware of a nursey-type person unpacking some items on his tray. âItâs time for your bath!â
Bath? Did she just say bath? He looked at his leg, hanging from the ceiling with wires and pulleys, feeling as though it weighed three hundred pounds, give or take, and then glanced toward the bathroom door. How in the hell did she think he was going to get himself to the bathroom, much less into the bathtub? And was a bath really such a good idea with a case on? Werenât casts supposed to stay dry?
His mouth was dry as he tried to talk. âIâŠwhoâŠwhereâŠâ
The nurse turned around and smiled, and he got his first look at her emerald green eyes, framed by long eyelashes. âKevin, youâre in the hospital. You had an accident, but youâre going to be okay. You broke your femur, and you had to have surgery to set it. Itâs a good thing you were wearing your helmet or youâd probably be dead, the way you hit that tree.â She had continued setting things out on his tray while she talked to him, and he found himself absorbed in watching her line up soap, lotion, several washcloths, three towels, and a basin. Her nails were short, and from his semi-reclined position, he couldnât see a ring on her left hand.
âMy name is Erin, and Iâll be taking care of you today. Iâm just going to get some warm water, and weâll get your bath over and done with in two shakes of a lambâs tail.â She disappeared, basin in hand, into the bathroom, where he heard the sound of water running. Erin, he mused. Fitting, given her fiery red hair that was pulled back at the nape of her neck. It looked curly as well, but it was hard to tell, the way it was tied back. He wondered if she was Irish, too. As she returned, carrying the basin with two hands, it finally registered what she meant. She wasnât going to take him to the bath, she was bringing the bath to him. And that meant two words, the two words that sparked many a male fantasy: sponge bath.
Erin pushed up the sleeves of her blue scrubs, which fastened up the front, and snapped on a pair of matching blue rubber gloves, the kind his dentist wore. The sound of latex snapping against skin reminded him of some BDSM movies heâd seen, and he had a vision of a dominatrix donning on latex gloves for a very personal examination. Kevin suddenly became aware of his near-nakedness, a thin hospital gown and a sheet were all that concealed him from Nurse Erin. Thank heaven he didnât have a roommate, so there wouldnât be any witnesses. As it was, he was already beginning to harden beneath the sheet, and he prayed that she wouldnât notice.
First, Erin stripped his hospital gown off, making sure the sheet still covered him from the waist down. âDonât you worry about a thing,â she said, as she dipped the washcloth in the water and wrung out the excess. âIâm a pro.â A squirt of soap on the washcloth and she started washing him, first one arm, then the other, using another washcloth to rinse off the soap as she went. He was pleasantly surprised at the water temperature, which was nice and warm but not hot, and he felt himself relax in spite of his apprehension at being bathed by a stranger. She didnât talk while she washed him, leaving him wondering what she was thinking about as she worked him over.
She leaned over him to rinse his other arm, and in doing so, her full breasts were in his face. He could see how they strained at the fabric of her scrubs, and wished they were free from their fabric prison, his to taste and suckle and lick as they dangled in front of him. He estimated that she must be a full C cup, maybe nearly a D. With her red hair and pale skin, he could imagine pale pink nipples and areola crowning those milky white orbs. This was not helping him get rid of the erection which had begun to assume larger proportions.
Next, Erin moved to his chest, working the rough washcloth under his arms, across his collarbone, and down to his stomach. She was businesslike and efficient, her face registering no emotion as she rinsed the lather off his midsection. She uncovered his uninjured leg and worked the soap into a lather as she scrubbed him from toes to hip. Maybe sheâll leave Mr. Happy alone, he thought briefly. MaybeâŠbut no, she had finished rinsing his leg and had uncovered his groin, exposing Mr. Happy to the bright morning sun, and to his dismay, Mr. Happy was very happy to see Nurse Erin.
His cock had risen to attention as she had rinsed his thigh, the touch of her hand and the pressure of the washcloth just close enough to excite him. That, and the scent of strawberries emanating from her hair as she leaned over him, her breasts just centimeters from his lips, yet hidden from his sight. There was also something strangely erotic about being so helpless while she performed such an intimate task.
âWell, well, wellâŠwhat have we here?â She stood there staring at his erection, and his face began to burn. How utterly humiliating, Kevin thought to himself, as he willed his body to redistribute the blood to other parts of his body, to no avail. The more he thought about his erection, the harder it became. Honestly, he could not remember the last time he had been this aroused.
âWhat do you have to say for yourself?â Kevin was incapable of speech, he was so embarrassed. âI cannot believe that a man like you canât control this response to a bath. Iâm just appalled.â Her words were harsh, but there was a teasing quality to her voice, almost flirtatious.
âI think youâre going to have to wash that yourself, young man,â she said sternly, as she handed him the warm, wet washcloth. Kevin gingerly accepted the washcloth from the nurse. âLetâs go. We donât have all day. Hurry up.â
He wrapped the washcloth around his erect cock and gasped. The roughness of the washcloth, combined with the warmth, raised his arousal another notch, and he closed his eyes as he adjusted to the sensation.
âWash it,â she commanded. He began to stroke his cock, wrapped in the washcloth, his movements rapid. âStop. Youâre doing it too fast. Slow down. Weâre in a hurry, but not that much. I donât want you to give it a lick and a promise. You have to clean it thoroughly. I canât leave here until every inch of you is squeaky clean. Open your eyes and look at me.â Kevin slowly opened his eyes and met the green eyes of the red-haired nurse. Eyes locked, Kevin began to stroke his cock again, acutely aware of how his movements were much like those he used to masturbate.
âGrip it tightly, Kevin. Iâd hate for your hand to slip off.â He wrapped his hand more tightly around his member, using the same firmness he used when pleasuring himself. âGood, very nice. Now stroke it.â
Stroke it? Maybe she meant wash it. Well, whatever she meant, he did it, stroking âwashing â his cock from base to tip and back down again, never moving his eyes from hers. His breathing quickened as she watched him. Silently, she reached for the washcloth, and he handed it to her, thankful his task was complete. She dipped it into the basin of water, rinsed it out, and squeezed the excess water out of it before handing it back to him. He looked at her with a questioning look, unsure what else she wanted him to do. âYour balls. Theyâre dirty, too.â