This is a story about doctors and nurses, and a few other people. It is a long story, a complicated story and a fucking horny story, even if I do say so myself. It was horny to me writing it and I hope it will be as horny for you reading it.
I am planning to present the story to Lit in a series of parts over the next few months, so you will have something to read as we go through autumn. I wonder how far we will have got before winter sets in?
If you have come straight to this part, I would strongly suggest you read Part 1 first.
The story revolves around sex in many forms. The theme of it is how a doctor treats people who are, in one way or another, sexually dysfunctional, so on one level it is a medical story. All the characters in the story who are not his patients, however, are as equally sexually dysfunctional somehow, so on another level it is pure erotica. On yet another level the story looks at how clothing promotes, influences, affects and conditions sexual behaviour; there are lots of descriptions of sexy nurses uniforms and ladies panties.
I really hope you enjoy what may well be my magnum opus and possibly my last submission to Literotica. Do let me know won't you?
Chapter 1
"Hello," Sammi said to the male receptionist at the ultra smart, small hospital in Bedford's Way just off Harley Street. "I am here to see Mr Mike Stevens, it is mister and not doctor isn't it?"
"Please take a seat; I will let his office know you are here, your name please? Yes he's far above being a mere doctor, but I'm never quite sure about these bullshit medical terms," he said flashing a set of amazingly white teeth at Sammi.
"Sammi, Sammi Cannock, well nurse Cannock I suppose," she replied.
"You have an appointment, I assume?" the dusky skinned, outrageously good looking guy said.
"Yes, I have my agency papers, and was asked to meet him here this morning,"
"Wonderful, my name is Cal, and if you have any questions while you are here, I'm the one to ask," Cal said looking Sammi up and down, rather flirtatiously and, in many ways, probably inappropriately, but nevertheless quite flatteringly.
As Sammi learned later, this was quite a common occurrence for Cal. He was of Pakistan background and came from a moneyed family. He liked to think, not unjustifiably either, that he looked like Imran Khan, when he was younger of course. He was very lazy and thus disappointed his family considerably by being a receptionist. To him, though, it was fine, for it meant he didn't start that early, thus enabling him to going clubbing several night s a week, and he met an almost endless stream of young women. And they were his total passion in life, he lived to fuck and fucked to live, he often told his mates and sometimes the nurses he was trying to conquer as well.
"Mr Stevens will be VERY pleased to see YOU" he replied, the emphasis not lost on Sammi, although it did rather surprised her for nothing like this happened in the NHS; they never had cool, dishy, young male receptionists.
Cal had arranged the chairs in the waiting area so that wherever any of the nurses sat, he would be able to see their legs. Not only was he a real player, but he also was an avid voyeur. His day was made when a girl leaned forward a little too much and he caught a glimpse of her bra. It was equally made when sometimes he would see the top of a uniform, perhaps a blouse, stretched tight across a pair of full breasts so that he saw the outline of a hardened nipple. But mostly it was made, as it was being made now by looking at the girls' legs, as he was looking at Sammi's legs, as he was looking up her skirt that had slithered up her thighs as she sat. She had good legs and like all of the nurses from La Crème she was wearing white tights, or stockings, Cal was pondering as he thought how attractive all the girls seemed to be that came from that nursing agency. They were always better looking, with nicer figures and a sexier appearance than most of the nurses and technicians from other agencies; not once had he seen a dumpy, ugly or plain La Crème nurse and he often wondered why.
The door beside Cal opened and out strode a tall man who Sammi assumed was the consultant. He was dressed in an immaculate navy suit and a pink shirt with gold cufflinks and a silk, blue and pink tie, striped tie. He was gorgeous and relaxed yet so sophisticated.
Cal stood up and walked over to him. Sammi was surprised at how familiar he was.
"Hi Mike, this is Sammi. Nurse Cannock, this is Mr Stevens."
"Hi, nice to meet you", he said in a pleasant, nicely modulated voice that had a touch of poshness about it, but not offensively so like, for instance, Prince Charles. He held his hand out.
"Oh hi, yes thanks, yes thank you, nice to meet you too," Sammi bumbled back, rather hurriedly and a little breathlessly. She was always shy when meeting people for the first time, particularly men, particularly attractive men, particularly older men and particularly doctors. And Mike Stevens was all of those. And on top of that his piercing blue eyes seemed to simply bore into hers as the soft, smooth skin of his hand shook hers.
Standing up, holding her handbag, briefcase and introduction folder and putting down her cup of coffee and The Independent newspaper, Sammi was flustered and dropped the paper. It hit the table and knocked over the cup that Sammi bent down to try to catch.
"Oh God, I'm sorry," she stammered as the coffee drained across the glass table soaking into the other newspapers. Cal rushed over with paper towels and mopping the coffee up he was rewarded with a great view down the front of the tight, white coat that was the hallmark of nurses from La Crème.
"Fuck me, she's got smashing tits and a lovely white lace bra," he said to himself looking up at Mr Stevens and smiling for he saw that he too had seen exactly what Cal had.
"Don't worry Sammi," Cal said.
"Thanks a lot Cal, I really am sorry to put you to such bother."
"No problem, you can repay me later," he grinned running his gaze very obviously up and down the blonde nurse's body. "Any way you like actually."
Sammi couldn't help smiling at the kid's, as she thought of him for she rarely dated anyone under thirty, bottle, but didn't respond for Mr Stevens had moved across and was standing right next to her and Cal.
They both looked at her. She stared back from one to the other not knowing what to do or think. She bent down again to collect her stuff that she had dropped onto the chair when she spilt the coffee. She could feel the boy's and the man's eyes on her. The boy's down her top, the man's at her bottom. The boy's on her tits, the man's on her arse. The boy's seeing her new white M & S bra, the man seeing the outline of her ultra thin, newly bought, Lejaby thong.
Although it was probably only for seconds, it seemed an age that she was between them being inspected, almost roasted, she thought. It made her feel on edge. She couldn't understand why, but it also aroused her. It made her warm, well hot really, she knew she would be blushing; she always did when she was turned on. Lurid thoughts, for some reason were shooting through her mind at an incredibly fast pace.
Her coat was off.
