"So how about dinner?" I asked as I rolled Mr. Jones over and proceeded to change out his soiled incontinence pad. Normally, the odor that curled up from Jones was enough to peel lead paint of a wall, but I had finally been one step ahead of my infamous comatose patient. The Vicks Vapor-Rub I had smeared under my nose protected me from his eye watering bowel distress.
Linda looked at me and frowned as she checked the blue, ribbed plastic lines on the respirator hooked to Jones. "How can you possibly think about food at a time like this?"
"I'm not thinking about food," I winked as I wiped and tossed the rags into the dirty linen barrel a foot away from the bed.
"Neither was I," she countered, her eyes watering from the stench, "Got any more vapor-rub?"
"Yeah, in my pocket," I smiled and jutted my right hip out. Linda came around the corner of the bed to me, her bright blue eyes checking for anyone in the hall as she went. I was always in awe of her and it seemed every movement she made from the mundane to the monumental had some sexual subtext for me. Her shoulder length blonde hair was slightly feathered today, her scrubs a dark blue that made her eyes look like windows to the Caribbean ocean. She slid her hand into my pocket, and instead of grabbing the small jar of vapor-rub she pushed her way over to my crotch.
"You are evil," I laughed as I finished Mr. Jones and rolled him into position. Her hand gentle massaged my balls through the fabric as I stood up straight.
"Just very horny," she smiled and leaned in to kiss me.
"Let me wash my hands first," I smiled broadly, motioning to my soiled gloves.
"That goes without saying," she scrunched her nose up in a face of revulsion as she looked at the nasty latex gloves.
"So how's you're asshole of a boyfriend?" I pulled off the gloves and tossed them into the red waste bucket as I walked into the bathroom. I turned on the water, and it immediately began steaming.
"He suspects something," Linda said casually as she stood in the doorway. I could see her looking at my ass in the reflective surface of the mirror as I scrubbed my hands. She added, "He falls short in a lot of ways, but paranoia is his specialty."
"Everyone's gotta have some kind of talent," I shrugged.
"What an asshole," she muttered. She shook her head in disgust, and as she did her hair swept around like the girls in the shampoo commercials do. I wondered if she knew that at forty-five, she still put to shame every woman in the hospital both young and old?
I slipped my arms around her and kissed her softly on the lips. "He's doesn't know what he's got."
"Am I being a bitch about this?" she asked my, her huge breasts pressed against me comfortably, "Am I asking too much of life?"
I shook my head. "No, not at all. Some guys just can't their shit together. That's not your fault."
"He doesn't even really like my son," she sighed.
"Which one?"
"The little one from my last marriage," she said, "He's five now, and he's just the cutest thing ever."
"Well he sprang from your loins," I replied as I kissed her again, "How could he help but be anything else?"
"You are so good for my ego," she purred and kissed me, our tongues rolling and tangling together as our hands began to wander. She slid her palm down over my crotch and felt my growing erection as I massaged her ass.
"God I love your body," she whispered, "And your cock is just right..."
"I'm the porridge Goldilocks chose," I smirked.
"You are creamy," she laughed as she squeezed my balls.
"How did we turn that fairy tale into a sexual innuendo?" I chuckled.
"You can make anything into a vague sexual reference if try hard enough."
"Anything?" I asked doubtfully as she started reaching into my pants, her finger nails tickling my waist as she went.
"Sure," she nodded, her eyes locked with mine, "Try me."
"Okay," I tried to think as she slipped past the elastic of my briefs, "Grandma's cookies?"
"Mmmmm," she said huskily as she took my hand and sucked my finger into her mouth, "Because Grandma's cookies are always hot and moist and juicy..."
"Juicy cookies?" I managed.
Her tongue circled around the tip of my index finger as she grasped the shaft of my cock and said, "Are you trying to debunk my theory?"
I shook my head. "Nope."
"Good," she smiled and kissed me again as she stroked my dick, taking time to slowly stimulated every last part of my seven and a half inch long cock. Linda could turn me on so fucking fast it made my head spin. She was so good at everything, every aspect of sex that I felt like I would never run out of surprises with her. She was the first woman I had ever been with who actually turned me to putty with just a look. God, she had power.
"You have a thick cock," she commented.
"Thank you," I managed.
"No, thank you..."
"So, dinner sound good?" I breathed into her ear as she jacked me off. I buried my face in her neck as she stroked, inhaling her lavender perfume and becoming even more lost in her rhythmic movements.
"Sounds great," she nodded and then pulled back, looking at me.
"What?" I asked.
"There's one hitch though..."
"Okay."
"My son will have to come with me," she said apologetically, "I don't have a babysitter that will watch him past seven o 'clock here."
"Hey, no worries," I smiled as I ran my fingers through her hair, "We'll just have to be creative."
"Really?" she asked hesitantly, "You don't mind?"
"No," I kissed her hand, "Not at all."
She looked at me for a moment, her eyes filled with a thousand words as we shared a silent moment. "You are so different."
"For better or worse," I shrugged.
She smiled and kissed me again. We straightened the room up and left separately, Linda first and me a few minutes later. My bulge was still like a scale model of Mount Everest and I didn't want anyone seeing me walking around with a stiffy. I felt my pager buzz and vibrate against my hip as I walked down the hall. I looked and saw room 3 needed help, so I grabbed some clean linen off the cart and went on my way. Linda was busy at her station. As I passed, we exchanged a brief glance and secret smile that made me feel better than I ever had before in my life.
***
I got home around seven that night, worn out and exhausted. The entire day had been a marathon, almost everyone suffering from the same bowel disorder as poor Mr. Jones. The Vicks was still strong under my nose, and my eyes felt as though the lids were made of thick sandpaper. I slipped my shoes off at the door and staggered across my living room, dropping my coat on the couch and my keys on the kitchen table. The phone was blinking red in the dim light, indicating someone had called during the day. I knew it had to be creditors, so I just decided to pass on that for the moment.
I stripped away my scrubs and tossed them into the plastic bag hanging from the wall. I never ever put my scrubs with my regular laundry, as all kinds of nasty shit could build up on you during the day as you wiped asses and bathed people. My back felt strained as I pulled my boxers off and sat down on the edge of the tub. Normally, I take showers, but tonight a bath looked really good. The thought of really hot water massaging my body into submission was too good to ignore. I looked at my watch and figured Linda wouldn't arrive for another half hour or so.
In the almost scalding water, which was a nice change from the frigid weather outside, I simply let myself unwind. From my bedroom, I could hear my stereo playing Charlotte Church quietly. Her voice always seemed to calm me, which was strange considering my tastes lean more towards Areosmith and Eric Clapton. I closed my eyes and thought of Linda, our first time together, tearing at each other in the women's bathroom at the hospital. I recalled with an amazing clarity the fine details of the experience; the feel of her skin, the touch of hands against my naked body, the warmth of her mouth around my cock, the unbelievable silkiness of her large breasts. I remembered her moans and the way she looked as we fucked each other, and that moment when the words were spoken that had set the tone for our relationship, "I love you." Then, the sound of my doorbell startled me back to reality.
I splashed up out of the tub and wrapped a towel around my waist. I nearly tripped over my recliner as I raced through the living room, dripping wet. Through the peek-hole, I saw that she was early. In the rounded, skewed vision of the small porthole in my door, I saw a tuft of dark hair and a red jacket standing beside her, not taller than her hips. In one hand she had with her a large pizza and in the other a six pack of beer. She never ceased to impress me.
"Hey you," I smiled as I opened the door. The boy seemed a little wary of me as I welcomed them in, clad in only a towel. His large blue eyes had clearly been handed down from Linda, bold and beautifully innocent. "I just got out of the tub," I said to him.
"Okay," he shrugged and stepped in.
"Hey baby," Linda kissed me gently as she put the beer in my hands, "I like this new look."
"Thank you," I smiled as I closed the door. I put the beer on the counter and hurried to put my sweats and a t-shirt on as Linda took off her coat and got the her son settled in. I brushed my teeth real quick and then went back into the living room.
