Warm nights in July were never quite as pleasant as they used to be. They never felt this humid, this muggy. The heat clung to Olivia like a blanket now; an invisible layer between her and everything else.
Walking through the halls of St. Mary's Hospital during her nightly shifts was an enchanting, ethereal experience etched in ecstasy. Her scrubs stretched tightly around her curves, tracing her body's horizons. Athletic, toned, supple breasts and a taut, perky ass, all underneath a face that could star on the cover of any magazine and still six months away from her 27th birthday. Hands behind her back, she strutted through those halls with a purpose and desire. She would do anything to help a patient heal, no matter what it was.
Olivia stopped at room 107. The paper slip next to the door said PATIENT: BLEDSOE, K. Olivia opened the door and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her softly. Inside the room laid a single bed, and inside the bed laid a single man, no more than 35 years old.
"Mr. Bledsoe?" Olivia whispered. The man in the bed rustled ever so slightly.
"Y-yes?" faintly, close yet distant.
"Mr. Bledsoe, I'm Olivia, the night nurse. I'm just here to do a quick check-up to see if anything needs a little touch up."
"Oh, alright then." Olivia stepped forward toward Mr. Bledsoe and came to a stop at the right side of the bed. She eyed the IV bag, checking to see if it needed to be replaced. Her gaze then went to Mr. Bledsoe's arm. Her hand reached out and touched him, her fingers wrapping slowly around his arm. With her other hand she grabbed a velcro strap and wrapped it gently around his arm. She began to squeeze and the velcro strap expanded around his arm, tightening its grip. It stopped, then began to let air out.
Olivia took the strap off Mr. Bledsoe's arm, then bent over him to check his other hand for the oxygen monitor on his finger. From the way she was bent, Mr. Bledsoe got more than a mouthful of a look at her. The way her cute ass curved so nicely, the downward arch in her back that pushed it up into his face. Her scrubs were barely managing to cover it, struggling to hold it in. Involuntarily, one of Mr. Bledsoe's hands, brushed along the side of Olivia's leg. It was quick, and he didn't linger, but she noticed it. And inwardly, she loved it. It sent waves of pleasure through her to know that her patient was feeling better. Outwardly, she pretended not to notice anything, and stayed bent over just long enough to give Mr. Bledsoe a lasting view without getting suspiciously long.
Olivia stood straight and turned to face Mr. Bledsoe. "You having any issues since this afternoon?"
"No, no issues, Olivia. I've been feeling okay."