The Story Of Mr Smith Ch 03

A startling new development for our poor Mr. Smith as he, beginning a long road to recovery, most valiantly regains both his humanity and the use of an important digit.

"And so, as you can see the patient is quite unchanged despite the increased alpha scan readings from yesterday evening. We will see this in coma patients occasionally, where regaining consciousness happens not in a single moment but in stages."

A general murmuring of consent.

"If there had been any significant impact to consciousness, especially based on the duration of the reading cycle, there would most likely have been some staff awareness of this, can you hand me that chart there? Thank you, let's see, yes the nurse on duty reporting nothing unusual. Sasha? Sira? And they say a doctor's handwriting is bad!" Collective groan. "Ok, ok, let's move on to the next patient. We'll keep an eye on Mr. Smith here, though, I expect more activity over the coming days with a possible breakthrough soon, we'll just have to wait and see."

Sounds of footsteps retreating.

So, I was in a hospital, and apparently in and out of a comatose state...? That would explain why everything has been so foggy over the last few...days? And the dreams! Wait a minute, holy cow, Sarah, whoa, it seemed so...wow, just thinking about her generous rack was making me tingle. Mmm, that big slippery nipple in my mouth, oh, and that bark she gave when she got it from behind, oh man...

I reflexively reached my right hand to move my stiffening cock as I could feel it starting to pup tent under the covers. Unfortunately, it was not in a tent. For some curious reason in the real world it had slipped the earthly bonds of the surrounding fabric covers and was standing at full attention in the cool hospital air.

"Doctor! He's moved! He's moving, he's moving, he's - oh my!"

Back came the footsteps and in a hurry, a crowd of them from the sounds of it.

"Make way, make way!" I could hear him say through the rush, and then, squinting thru my half opened eyes, I could see at least six eager faces looking down at me on my bed.

"Oh wow!" a young woman said, staring with a somewhat surprised look at where my hand was. Shit, my raging hard on. She touched my arm and took a little sharp breath in. "Can I...take his pulse?" she stammered. Awkward silence.

"We, um, have machines hooked up to him for that, Kate." The doctor sounded perturbed.

"Oh. Right."

I felt someone thankfully pull the covers over the whole pornographic tableau.

"Mr. Smith can you hear me, can you respond?" he asked, somewhat loudly.

I gathered all my wandering thoughts into one place and opened my mouth to speak. My lips moved but no words came out. I tried again. "Ungh".

"I didn't get that Mr. Smith, can you repeat that?"

"Ungh, ungh. Nngth." My speech wasn't working all that well, but my dick seemed to be deflating with my focus now elsewhere, and it was heartening not having a bunch of people staring at my rigid Johnson propping up the covers.

He spoke again. "OK, I want you to think about every syllable you are going to say, then slowly, slowly say it. Take your time, we've got all day to wait." Was that attitude? I could see the jerk actually check his watch.

I took an instant dislike to this guy. Taking his advice, I carefully thought thru the whole response, formulating it in my mind syllable by syllable. When I actually spoke it was not even close to what I was going to say.

"Fuck." Pause. "You." Pause. "Buttwipe."

Gasps with a smattering of suppressed giggles.

"Ah, yes, well" he cleared his throat "ahem, yes, it's very typical that the comatose patient will slowly regain use of each aspect of his cognitive areas after being dormant, in this case the centers for speech control often correlate to the inhibition response platform and ..." he trailed off as I focused on a gentle tickling sensation on my arm.

Doctor Prick popped back into focus. "MISS SVENSKI! PLEASE remove your hand from the patients arm!"

"Oh, yes, certainly. Sorry." The warm tickle stopped as I saw her pull her hand away reluctantly and hold it in her other hand, gently rubbing it. As could be expected with a name like hers, she was a natural blond, but apart from that was nothing amazing from the bod department, average build, high blond bangs. Blue Nordic eyes, but she was no Valkyrie.

"Alright, let's move on and revisit Mr. Smith here later," he said, waving his hand with no uncertain terms to where my once raging cock, now flaccid and tiny, lay sleeping beneath the covers "when he's had a chance to rest up and get his thoughts... straightened out as well. Miss Svenski! If you'd care to join us?"

* * * *

I won't bore you with the particulars of the following few hours after Dr. Prick and his merry band left my bedside apart to say that I became fully conscious, verbal, and as far as I could tell back to my old self. Unfortunately, I really didn't quite understand who that old self was. I sensed there were memories just under my consciousness, but when I began to think of anything not immediately present and happening, the thought would move away like a slippery bar of soap in the tub, and every time I went to grab it, flop, there it went. It was getting somewhat maddening, and when the nurse came to take my blood pressure I told him about it as well.

"We're not really allowed to talk about it with you, what happened and all." John, the nurse on staff, sounded reluctant as he pulled up a stool. "Anyway, everyone's really happy that you're back here with us in the land of the living," he laughed, "and full of piss and vinegar. I heard what you said to Doctor Pritchett, VERY funny." He pulled off the pressure sleeve.

"OK that's it, you're good enough to travel."

"Huh?"

"Oh no one has told you, typical. You're getting transferred out to another care facility that's not quite so intensive care specific, they can spend some extra time with you on recovery, but seriously physically everything is looking just, um, great." A slight smile peeked thru on his lips. What was that about?

"There's often, you know, transitional psychological issues with coma recoveries, and they're great at helping out with those." He got up from the stool he was on and held out his hand. "It's been a pleasure, take care of yourself" he said as we shook, then he turned and walked away.

I watched him as he left, wondering what all this was about. Coma, land of the living, intensive care - I was beginning to have a lot of pressing questions form in my apparently re-active brain.

"Hello Mr. Smith!" I felt a hand lightly touch arm and looked to see Ms. Svenski at my bedside.

"Hello Kate."

She blushed pink under her high Nordic cheekbones. "Oh, you remembered my name, wow, pretty good for such a recent, um, post-comatose recovery patient. Congratulations!"

"Word on the street is I'm getting sprung outa here?"

"Yup. I'm here to get you all set and down to the transfer van. John checked you out as A-OK and that's good enough for me." Her hand was still on my arm, her index finger absently starting to make little circles on my skin. It was not an unpleasant feeling.

"Right then!" she blurted out, pressing her fingers harder into me, "gotta get the show on the road!" She started messing with the straps and wheel brakes that apparently had been holding me in one spot, and with a whirring noise the bed began to sit me upright.

Her corniness was infectious, and I was grinning.

"Nice smile" she said, then looked embarrassed she had said it. "Haha, you ARE making me act silly," she said, "I have no idea why, you just, well, bring out the best in me for some reason. OK all set! I'm going to just wheel you down to the processing area and into a chair, and you'll be outta here."

She stepped behind the bed and we began to move thru the hospital ward, where I could see some other beds, mostly empty, the ones occupied surrounded by wires and screens. In the beds were lumpy forms with hands or feet occasionally protruding from under covers.

"Happy to be leaving the morgue I bet!" Her hand had slipped down and was touching my shoulder. "Well, that's what we call it anyway, mostly vegetables in here but they need intensive care, no one hardly ever leaves...alive. You though," she gave a little squeeze, "you're pretty special around here. A survivor and all, um, intact."

We wheeled into an opened elevator door and she came around the front of the bed and hesitated just a second, then pressed the basement button. I suppose my eyebrow arched but she didn't look around to see it. She studied the button, not looking up.

"Um." Her eyes were still looking at the button.

"Yes?"

"Can I, um, well maybe ask you a...favor?"

"Sure."

"Well," she said, "I'm heading down to the basement level, there's another route...this is really crazy, I am not sure what's come over me, but, well, I wanted to ask you..."

She stopped talking, obviously coming to terms with what she was going to ask me, then continued, slowly.

"Would you, ah, consider, I'll totally get it if you say no, it's just that when I touch you there's this really nice feeling I get, and, well," with a swift glance she reached over and took my hand, then gave a quick little shudder, "oh Christ, fuck it."

She pressed the emergency stop button and the elevator lurched and came to a sudden halt. Turning, she pulled my hand towards her while she pulled down her green pant scrubs with the other hand. Her timing was solid and when my hand reached her thigh she was already spreading apart her legs, and my hand slipped perfectly between her thighs and up onto her surprisingly warm pussy.

She stood over me, her eyes closed, head looking slighting up towards the ceiling of the elevator, pressing my hand firmly into her blond snatch. And stood. Not moving. At all.

"Kate?" Nothing.

"Kate, are you ok?"

Still nothing, although I could see her breathing. Her face was smooth and relaxed in the elevator light. Her pants, hanging loosely off one of her slender hips, suddenly let go and slipped all the way to floor. Still no movement.

I shifted my hand towards me and brought my finger up to brush her pussy lips, then slowly inserted it into her waiting warmth. That got a reaction as she sucked in a deep breath, and I continued pushing until my finger was inserted all the way into her. She was beyond slick as she moaned and I could smell her scent, powerful and alluring.

Her body tensed as I slowly rocked my hand into her waiting mound, pushing my finger into her each time. I moved my thumb up to push against her clit, watching as it slowly moved thru her blond hairs to expose a tiny pink clitoris. It was already as shiny and slick as her pussy lips were, and I rubbed my thumb into the side of it, up and down then from the left.

"Fuh" she sighed, then turned bright red, her cheekbones turning almost tomato colored. Her neck muscled constricted and she bit her lower lip as I felt her thighs quivering and saw her shoulders bunch up under her scrubs. My hand was slowly crushed as her legs tightened up around it, and I could feel my finger getting squeezed by her constricting cunt. I moved harder and faster with my thumb and spread my fingers as far as I could against her tight thighs and clamping pussy.

She stood like that for at least a minute longer, my thumb rubbing her slick clit as fast as I could manage, when she suddenly shuddered deeply, crushing my hand further, and turned an even brighter shade of red. She repeated this a few times a minute for the next few minutes before she gave up, spent.

My hand was wet and her scent filled the little elevator when she finally collapsed on top of me. Her blond hair fell close to my face, and it smelled like a field of strawberries.

We lay like this for a few minutes, my mind soothed with the smell of pussy and strawberries, a lovely young woman breathing steadily as she lay partly across my chest. But as all wonderful things must come to an end, or at least a change, the beauty of the moment was brought to a close with the sound of tapping on the elevator door, and a voice muffled asking if anyone was in there.

I'm not sure if Kate was more embarrassed by what she had done with a former comatose patient in a hospital elevator, or the fact that when the doors finally opened there were several people waiting who could not have helped but notice the heady smell of a satisfied Nordic pussy. Either way, she wheeled me quickly to the drop off area, got me in a chair without making eye contact, and efficiently tagged and bagged me for the next handler.

"Kate" I said, "I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your assistance."

She glanced up, visibly embarrassed, and looked away quickly in the direction of a waiting orderly near an exterior door, a van waiting outside.

"Hey" she said, bending over me and whispering quickly in my ear "Thank you, Mr. Smith."

She hurriedly walked away.