Peace for Erin

It was that time of year again. The time when everybody with families, especially children, put in desperate requests to have a day or two off, and left those of us who were single to cover the hospital. It was a trade-off. Usually the pay was premium, usually the work load was light, but then there was always a feeling of sadness. All of us who worked smiled and acted cheerful, but we all knew we were here because we had no place else to be.

Any patients who couldn't go home for Christmas were usually demented with no families, and never knew what day it was. Or they were too close to death to leave. Up on Labor & Delivery people laughed because they were having Christmas babies.

In Peds the nurses tried to buy gifts for all the little cancer kids; nothing was worse than one of them dying on the Eve or the Day. Down here in the ED, things were usually quiet; who wanted to go to the hospital on Xmas unless they HAD to? Then again, what we saw was usually people who really, really HAD to.

Since I've only been an RN for 2 years, and don't have a hubby or kids, I get to work all sorts of holidays. Often the night shift. I've already spent three New Year's at midnight listening to distant fireworks and bells ringing while I sat in an uncomfortable chair and read a book.

This year looked to be no different, until I learned that Dr. Joe was going to be on duty with me. I've made no secret to myself that I have the hots for him. I lie in bed many nights and touch myself frantically with fingers or vibrators and pretend it's him.

"Yes, Joe, yes, do it to me," I scream into my pillow in my empty bed. "Would you like it back there, Doctor?" I beg my imaginary playmate. He always does. Want it in the behind. My dildo always does what he wants, so I cum again from the anal stimulation. The alchemy that turns a piece of plastic into a throbbing human cock carries me thru the lonely nights when I am not working, and have nowhere to go.

This time it would be different. He and I would be trapped there together, and if the damn happy people would not have wrecks or heart attacks or shoot each other long enough for there to be Peace on Earth there might be a chance for a Piece for Erin as well. That's me. Erin. I'm little, 5' tall, with Irish red hair and lots of freckles, and a little waist -- Hell all of me is little except these magical tits that swelled into C cups sometime when I was a teen.

I bought a little bottle of an aftershave I like, Brute, and wrapped it. If the chance came, I could offer it to him, couldn't I? It was Christmas, after all. I hummed a few Carols, hoping that this holiday would be a little better than most. Thankfully our hospital is small enough that we only keep one doctor and one nurse in the ED at night. We call it the Emergency Department, that's 'in' these days, but it's really only an Emergency Room or two.

Two days ahead I got a bikini wax. I don't often, but let's go all out, right? I also bought nicer undies than I usually wear at work. Some white 'boy shorts' with a little wreath right... well, there. And a bra that made the most of things, and had a sprig of mistletoe right between... where it hung right... well, above there. To invite kisses... well, there.

The day before I had my hair done, and had a few discreet highlights added. Trying to look my best. I also added a sprig of real mistletoe to my purse; never know what you might need.

The clock ticked down to the final hours, and I paced, eager to get to work; I like my job, but I've never been so restless to get there. I had a twelve hour shift, it was pointless to get too tired before I went. Then I was swept away, and 'clunk' my timecard was stamped, and I went to the ER for shift change. Things were quiet, thank God.

Dr. Joe waltzed in, nodded, "Evening Erin," and pulled out a textbook on skin diseases! Skin Diseases? Those things even have disgusting pictures! This is the lead up to a night of romance?

"Doctor, don't mean to interrupt you (yeah, sure I didn't) but I thought since it was Christmas, well... I got you a little gift." I already knew he smelled better than Brute, but unless he told me what he wore I had no idea how to get any.

"Why thank you, nurse. I'm afraid you've embarrassed me, I didn't think to do that for you."

(You could offer me a kiss instead, you fool!) "Don't worry about it, it's just a custom."

"After shave --Brute -- this smells rather nice. Thanks, Erin."

I blushed, I always do, and my freckles faded while my face became as carmine as my hair. "You're welcome." (Come on, damn it, say something suave!) "Uh, what aftershave do you usually wear?"

"Oh, I get this stuff from France. It's made by Jil Saunder; hard to find in the States."

"So you, uh, go to France.... Often?"

"Oh, I've only been there once. I order the aftershave. Online, you know."

(Here my brain began to leak the smell of burning oil, as I tried to force the gears to spin faster than they seemed to want to go.)

"Oh, yeah. I shop online sometimes, too. Hard to buy porn locally." (OMG I actually let that come out of my mouth.)

"You buy pornography?" Not a clue as to what he thought; no curious raised eyebrows, no frown of disapproval. Just a flat question, like 'think it will rain?'

"Sometimes."

Well, all Hell broke loose just then. The doors flew open and a bleeding child was carried in by his frantic mother. It was obvious this wasn't serious, the child was awake and crying, the laceration was to the eyebrow, and the mother was more upset than the child.

"Nurse, a suture pack, please." Professionalism took over for both of us. In five minutes we had the little boy cleaned up, and only sniffling a little, as mom described the 'horrible fall' against the coffee table. I assisted the Dr. and he smoothly injected Novocain, whipped in three stitches, and put a neat bandage on the wound. He also did a great job of explaining to the mom that it was nothing without demeaning her, and had a smiling kid and a grateful mom headed back to their home in a few more minutes.

While I cleaned up the table, he stepped to me and said, "You were great. I wish I always had help like that." He gave me an awkward little half hug, and I hugged him back. (Kiss me, you fool!)

He stepped away, and the chance was gone.

Right away, a beautiful young woman came in dressed in an old sweat suit. She had had her wisdom teeth out over the Christmas break, and was having some bleeding. I called her oral surgeon, who ordered some IM vitamin K. That's a tenth of a cc, a tiny injection.

Dr. Joe was standing there when I told her I needed to give her a 'shot.' She dropped her pants and sashayed to the table and bent over. I saw Dr. Joe blow up the front of his scrub pants and turn to hide it. Zap! Gave her the shot, slapped a band aid on, perhaps a little harder than necessary, and said she could go.

"Well, I've never seen anyone so eager to drop her pants, have you?" I asked.

This time he was blushing. "Can't say as I was expecting that."

"She had rather a cute butt, tho', wouldn't you say?"

"Well, yes, but not the cutest I've ever seen." (And who has that, doctor?)

Silence.

This was turning out to be the longest night I'd ever spent in the ER.

An obnoxious drunk wandered in with a scalp laceration. Sewing him up was simple, but he bled on the good Doctor's scrubs, so afterward he said he needed to go in the on-call room and take a quick shower and change. (Need any help, Doc?)

That's when the first ambulance hit the door. A man who looked ok, but had passed out briefly for no reason. I hooked him up to the EKG (He was over 50) and as he sat there he fell over with an irregular pulse. I called the on-call room. No answer! He's in the shower! I ran in the room, jumped in the shower and grabbed his arm!

"We've got a Code! Right Now! I need you stat!"(No time to look)

"Hand me my pants, would you?" (Why can't I hear those words in another context?)

For the next hour or so we were desperately trying to stabilize this poor man, and tho' we tried everything, he got worse and worse. Dr. Joe had to go tell the family they had lost their grandpa on Christmas Eve with dried soap in his hair. Not a time for joyous celebration.

Joe finally finished that task, and had to return to the on-call room to finish his clean up. It was eleven pm on Christmas Eve, and I had looked at the Dr. naked, looked at a naked girl's ass, and otherwise nothing had happened. Oh, and I got a sort of hug. Time to get serious.

The ER was deserted. The door had a chime on it, so I'd know if anyone came in. I eased open the door to the on-call room, and heard Dr. Joe splashing away in the shower. I stepped into his bed and stuck the mistletoe to the fire nozzle with a piece of tape. Then I quickly shed everything except my fancy undies.

I rapped on the door to get his attention.

"Hello, Dr. Joe?"

"What is it, another case?" he yelled, unaware that I was inside.

"No. I just wanted to be fair," I replied.

He stuck his head out, dripping wet. His eyes grew wide as he saw my attire, and he slowly stepped out of the shower. He had to have been hard in the shower, no one could get that big that fast. But he certainly got big. Huge, actually.

"I got to see you naked; it's only proper to return the favor," I whispered.

"Actually, you're not totally naked. I was. I still am," he said.

"I thought maybe you could... unwrap... me." My voice got softer and softer as I talked. He took two steps, and pulled me into his arms. He was getting me wet. From the shower, as well. His lips grabbed mine like magnets hitting together, and I'm not sure either of us breathed for several long minutes.

My tongue wrapped and unwrapped his, while he returned the favor, and slowly unsnapped my bra. Then as my lips coasted across the smoothness of his, his right hand rose like smoke to creep under that inadequate barrier and encircle my left breast. He squeezed gently, and then let his finger tips touch my nipple, which was very hard. We stood in that pose for several minutes as we melted together and he pumped my nipple as if it were bread dough, rising from internal fermentation.

I wrapped both arms around his neck to pull him closer, and his kisses made bells ring. No, wait! The ER door!

Frantically he pulled on his scrubs, and I grabbed another set to cover myself. I threw my bra off as faster than attaching it, and we both stumbled to the room.

A policeman stood there, with a small bottle.

"Merry Christmas, you two! Care to share a very small drink that none of us should have on duty?"

We smiled, took a token sip, had a token toast, and trod from one foot to the other waiting for him to leave. Apparently having settled his desire to have someone to drink with, he waved and left.

Dr. Joe looked at me, brown eyes on green, and didn't say a word. He grabbed a quick kiss, and we both ran for the bedroom.

This time I didn't wait for his help, I had all my clothes off by the time I rolled on top of him, and he was faster than me. We resumed our frenzied kissing and licking, and his mouth wandered down my neck, pausing long enough to gently suck and bite, and then veered completely to my right nipple. He pulled it totally into his mouth with one gulp, and I almost lactated I was so swollen.

I held my other breast, and as soon as he let go of the first, I fed him the second. My pussy was extremely wet; he would probably need another shower. I rubbed my introitus back and forth over his solid surgical steel. He came back to my mouth, and I lifted my hips to guide him into me, when the damn bell rang again!

Another frantic scramble, another mad dash. I'm sure we looked a pair to the paramedics who had brought us a fresh Christmas Day gift. A drunken driver who had gotten himself smashed literally and figuratively. It wasn't really so bad, just some minor gashes, though at one point I looked at a three inch long cut that was slightly gaping, blood red, and oozing, and I had a terrible déjà vu. It looked like my labia!

We stitched and bandaged him with a ferocity amazing to the ambulance crew, and they were flabbergasted to see the doctor assisting the nurse in cleaning the room afterwards.

We didn't even look at each other this time, but as soon as I confirmed everything was put away we ran for the bed like we were on fire; which we were.

This time he had my pants off and his dropped and started shoving his cock into me bent over the bed while I was still removing my top. I couldn't even get the damn thing off; I just lay there ensnared in a green wrapper while I felt that majestic erection pound into me again and again. My cunt stretched wide to take him in, and I could feel the ridge of his corona as it skated to my opening and then back deep inside.

My thighs shook in trepidation, as the onomatopoeic sound of fuk-fuk-fuk filled the room. Had you measured the space in my vagina you would have found no ullage, I was filled to the end. The magnificent magenta head was a nepenthe to our loneliness, an anodyne to all our pains and sorrows.

I screamed "Harder, harder, fuck me fuck me, now, now!" without pleonasm, and he answered with more aggressive energy until I screamed a final time, and shook from ass to eyebrows in the throes of a superlative orgasm. I felt him swell and then fill me with a delightful gelatinous porridge.

I gasped for air as he rolled alongside me, and he was covered in sweat. We touched hands, gently, a contrast to our love-making, as our hearts slowed their cadence to normal.

A bell, a vuvuzela; a fiat to return to the ER that we followed as commanded. Our dishabille was worse with every trip.

A college girl slid down a banister in a deserted house an hour ago, drinking and partying when she should have been home. She had run a splinter six inches long into her inner thigh, an inch from her pussy. To stand there and be his myrmidon, to watch her labia coruscate under the bright surgical lights while he probed her and stretched her out to repair the damage was almost more than I could stand. But our sworn duty was to provide help, and we did.

I fought off the urge to put up a "closed, go home!" sign on the door, and instead raced the doctor to the bedroom. This time I was faster, I grabbed his penis in my little hand, and bent to lick the remnants of my own juices from his rapidly growing instrument. I continued to tease him with my lips and mouth, lapping his proudness with my tongue. I ran up and down his shaft as a child on a playground, and finally rounding all the bases tagged home again. He slammed his balls against my chin in a motion as monotonous as a train clacking and as irresistible as a driving locomotive.

His vichyssoise was a viand, a delight to my taste, a joy to my mouth. It had been a long time since I had tasted fresh hot cum. Swallowing it all down greedily, I did not share it with him. He could get more anytime, and I could not.

As he lay back, panting, I smiled a subtle grin of happiness attained. Without a word, I lay back in the opposite direction, and he rolled over and began his oral exploration of my hinterlands. Oh what joy he gave me! This was no Silent Night, for I sang as if a Herald Angel as his warm flesh rubbed my silken smoothness. He licked the entire area, then kissed where he had licked, then sucked his kisses off my flesh.

His nub plowed into me, deep within my cleft, out again, back to my ass, forward to my unyielding clitoris. He sucked that up in its entirety, and mauled it with his tip. I resisted as long as I could, torn between the present enjoyment and the promise of release, but finally my will disintegrated and I wailed and moaned as he tore another orgasm from my loins.

This time no nasty interruptions, this time we could rest in peace. Now we could hold each other close and bathe in the susurration of each other's voices. As I reiterated my happiness, I asked him if he would do me one small favor. Sleepily, he said anything you wish, and I suggested that a trip down the anal canal would be a nice dessert.

Instantly awake and full of vigor, he looked directly into my eyes and asked, "Do you really want this?"

"I love it above all else, when I am relaxed and ready," I replied.

"Then let me not your joy restrain," he stated as a gentleman, and fed me his cock to lather up with spit.

When I was satisfied, I rolled unto my knees, and he placed his glans against my tight little hole. I pushed back against him, as he strained toward me, and slowly, slowly, we spread my strong muscle with his tumescence. As he sank into my pit, I felt him pass the rim of my anus, and then more easily slide the length of my rectum.

We moved slowly, as in a dream, not pounding as before, but gently fucking, gently fucking, gently fucking at my door. I was so filled with him I could hardly hold him but I was so glad to be filled that I detested any attempt to back away. And so we sawed back and forth, slowly increasing our tempo until with a flurry of final flailing he blew gobs of opalescent chowder into my ass. This drop-kicked me into another verbal cascade and a final involuntary spasm.

As we lay cuddled and spent, he glanced upward and saw my mistletoe; "Has that been there all along?" he asked.

"I couldn't help it, I really couldn't. I wanted a Christmas Kiss."

"Would you be available for New Year's as well?'

"I think I could arrange that," I replied in total satisfaction.