Lie It Has the Antidote

When she came in yesterday - no, two days ago now - Angela could never have imagined she would be masturbating in a hospital bathroom as two people fucked in a bed less than 14 feet away.

The thought turned her on even more and as she massaged her clit and began to again roll her nipple in her hand, her mind began to drift.

As a favor to Maria, the head nurse on Angela's second 12-hour shift, Angela had agreed to check on Mr. Davis (he had asked her to call him John, but evidently Maria was strict about calling patients by their last names) before she left.

Angela had no problem with checking on him. He was a hottie - and a flirt to boot. He had already asked for a sponge bath twice, but somehow avoided looking like a creep in the process. Probably had to do with those eyes of his. Her friend Mandy had called eyes like his "bedroom eyes," but she was of a romantic bent. Angela thought there was definitely something hot about them though.

She had come into John's room only to find him dozing.

"So peaceful," she thought. "I wish I could crawl into that bed with him."

It was a perfectly innocent thought borne out of tiredness, but it quickly became less so as she considered it.

"I wonder what his cock looks like," she thought and automatically looked at his crotch area.

She knew he was nude because the other day, he had joked he always went "commando" when he slept. But if she lifted the sheet and he woke up, she could be in real trouble - or in for real fun, if he wasn't mad. That thought had to be killed quickly though. It was too much of a risk, even with a flirt like this guy.

She decided to leave, but suddenly to pee. She had been working hard for 24 hours and had not gone to the bathroom for a little while.

Angela had signed up for a 12-hour shift, but with the flu going around and nurses dropping like flies, she had worked a 24.

"Better go quickly before he wakes up, or before I do something stupid," she said quietly to herself.

As she got her scrubs to her ankles and she sat down, the sleepiness hit her like a ton of bricks. She was asleep before she knew it.

When she woke up, there had been a soft murmur of voices and she recognized a woman saying, "Hey sweetie. I heard you had an accident and just wanted to see how you were doing."

Angela had started at that, afraid she would lose her job for falling asleep in a patient's bathroom.

"Oh God, that can't happen," she said, almost unaware she was speaking out loud. How long had she been asleep? She didn't know.

A quick glance at her watch showed her it was 10:30 p.m., well after visiting hours. But she couldn't very well burst out of the bathroom and tell the woman to leave, now could she?

Lost in thought, she missed the rest of the conversation and only began listening again as she heard what sounded like someone punching pudding. A wet, kind of gloppy, slurping sound.

"What the hell?" she thought and couldn't stop herself from pulling up her pants, walking to the door and cracking it open to look.

Her eyes went wide when she looked into the room. There was a red head bobbing up and down on John's cock. The room lights were up and she could see it all.

John was laying there with his eyes closed as this woman - this CANDY STRIPER?!?!?!? - went to work on him. She was making a real go of it too, twisting her hand around his rod as she moved her mouth up and down on him. With her hair pulled back into a wide ponytail and pinned under a little paper hat, there was an unobstructed view to the red streaks of lipstick she was leaving on John's cock.

And what a cock it was. It looked like it was 10 inches long or longer, not terribly thick but definitely big enough. Veins ran out from the left side of the base, all the way to the end of the foreskin. As the redhead removed her mouth to talk to John, Angela saw the head, an angry red bulb at the top.

With the twisting of his skin and the lipstick streaks she was leaving, John's cock could have passed for a barber pole - a thought that a clear-headed Angela would have laughed heartily at. But this was no laughing matter. She could feel her nipples hardening and her crotch begin to grow damp.

She forgot about her dilemma and began to truly enjoy the show.

As they moved to form a 69, Angela licked her lips and allowed her hand to massage herself through her clothes. Pinching at her hardened nipple and rubbing her scrub pants, she was lost in a world of live porno. It felt so good that she almost fell through the doorway when the two of them came and collapsed into one another.

She was definitely warmed up, but did not dare to strip down and go to town on herself right now. The fear of being caught was back now and stronger than ever now that she had seen them face fucking each other.

She stepped away from the door and began to consider her options, only to be drawn back by the sound of the two lovers talking.

She peeked again, watching as the woman now rose up and kissed John on the mouth.

Angela felt a flush of guilt. Before it was just sex, but now she could be watching an actual couple "making love." That was private, intimate, even if it was in a hospital room.

She couldn't take her eyes away now though, and lust soon washed away any guilt she was feeling as she watched the redhead grind herself onto John's cock. Was he still hard after cumming only a few moments ago? She would have given anything to know.

She was getting hotter by the second, watching the woman take her top off, then lean forward and arch her back. Angela tried to imagine what it would be like to have John suck her nipples as he was obviously sucking this woman's. She seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit, as her heavy breathing suggested.

More talking and then the woman swung around before Angela could move.

Angela's breath caught in her chest and she stood as still as she could.

For a second, she imagined she saw the redhead looking right at her. But no, that had to be her imagination. She couldn't have seen her.

But just in case, Angela backed slowly away from the door.

Her chest beading with sweat under her scrubs, she felt her pussy itching in the biker shorts. It wasn't itching so much as aching to be freed from their tight little spandex biker short prison.

Angela leaned back against the wall of the bathroom and ran her hand across her belly, tracing her middle finger in an arc just above her bellybutton ring. She was more relaxed now that she could hear the woman moan softly in the other room. It meant that either the woman had not seen her or she liked to be watched.

That thought excited Angela even more and she stopped teasing her tummy, deciding to take more immediate action about the heat down below.

Angela could hear the springs of the bed creaking with what she could only assume to be the redheaded woman's bounces.

The image of the woman biting her lip crossed her mind. Then there was an image of John's long shaft glistening with the woman's juices. Then the image of her petite breasts bouncing slightly up and down as she rode his pole.

She wanted to look again badly, but wasn't sure of the redhead's exhibitionist instincts.

So, instead she reached down and grabbed the bottom of her scrub top, pulling it up and over her brown ponytail, dropping it to the floor beside her. It lay there, adorned with red and purple flowers, not too garish, But then again, she had never gone for the clowns and balloons some of her coworkers wore.

Angela longed for the days when nurses wore the white skirts and shirts with the cute little hat on top. No, the old nurses uniforms weren't like the ones popularized in "nurse porn," but they seemed a lot nicer than the scrubs nurses wore these days.

The candy striper outfit the redhead had been wearing would have suited Angela's playful side a little better. She liked being the "naughty nurse" for her boyfriends and an outfit like that would work just fine for her. But that was all beside the point, and her purple scrub pants soon joined the top.

She started rubbing herself through the biker shorts she had worn because she thought she was going to get a workout after work. They were going to need a good cleaning after this, but this was turning into a workout all the same.

The pressure from her fingers hit just the right spot and her knees felt weak for a second. She decided to take a seat on the throne and removed the last of her hindrances to the hot, wet junction between her legs. The biker shorts joined the pile of discarded clothing on the floor.

The lid of the toilet was cold on the cheeks of her ass and she shuddered a bit when she leaned her back against the tank. It was a good shiver, and her nipples would have jumped to attention had they not been rock hard already, straining against the sports bra that she still wore.

The sudden shock reminded her that her nips had not been paid much mind since this little voyeuristic trip began. She pulled the sports bra up, baring her c-cup breasts to the cold air that filled the bathroom and sucked in a quick breath of air as her left hand reached across her chest and took hold of her right nipple.

She tugged a little at the nipple, feeling a rush of endorphins as she replaced let her index finger fall away and began to make circles with her thumb.

She breathed out a long slow breath as she reached between her legs with her right hand and found her now smoldering pussy.

Her breathing hitched again as she heard John say "ugggh." That didn't sound pleasurable to her. She stopped and listened for second, hearing the woman say something unintelligible and the man reply, "It's OK, just be careful."

The springs, which had slowed, sped up again and Angela - her hand still buried in her steaming cleft - began to breath again. Slow deep breaths, making the moment last. Her hands felt so good to her, now slick with her own juices and gliding firmly along her slit. Back and forth. Up and down.

She imagined John working on her pussy as he had the redhead's, lapping her all the way to orgasm, then licking her clean. She could just imagine his head below her, nose buried in the little tuft of brown hair she had let grow back only recently.

Not enough time to shave. With the motion of her hands, she could feel that the hair was a little matted.

She wished her lips were smoother right now; the feeling was all the more intense when she was clean shaven. When she got home she would have to shave and do this all over again.

"Mmmmmmnnnnnnn," the groan escaped her lips involuntarily.

She was enraptured and didn't even notice the bedsprings had stopped creaking. She was in a full-on dream now, watching as John raised from her pussy - his leg miraculously mended - and his cock, fully erect, aiming at her face. She imagined the glaze of liquid love she had created for him down there covering his mouth.

In her dreaming mind, she reached out to him and drew him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, then released him to do whatever he wanted to do to her.

This dream-John was all about pleasing her and raised her off of the toilet, pulling her right nipple into his mouth and lifting her up, onto his long, hard manhood.

The speed of her stroking increased still more as she thought of him inside her - his fleshy spear piercing her deeply as she slid down onto him. The thought drove her insane with lust and she could feel herself at the breaking point.

She would have to finish up soon, or she was going to lose control. She was going to burst into the hospital room like a mad woman and demand to be satisfied by him - if not the redhead too.

Her release, building from a slow trickle when she had first opened the door, had now become a raging current of sweat and endorphins. The dam broke finally and she threw her head back, biting her lower lip, trying to keep from screaming his name.

With her left hand grabbing and now massaging her left breast, she removed her right hand from between her legs and pinched her right nipple again. She was washing with warm tingles.

Below her, she felt her thighs grow damp on the lid of the toilet. Hell, her knees felt a little cold too - could she have cum that hard? No. That was just the tingling warmth of her orgasm being brushed off by the room's air conditioning. It was coming from someplace, but the hospital bathrooms don't have A/C.

"Oh God," she thought, "The door is still cracked open."

With a will that only a fighter struggling to go on can imagine, she stood on wobbly legs, walked over to the door and closed it gently. The slight click of the lock was the only sound it made, but she was sure that was OK. She now realized the bed had stopped moving and its occupants were surely asleep now.

Not a bad idea. She would sleep well tonight. But first, she had to clean up this mess, get dressed and sneak out of here without getting caught.

"Well, not by anyone but John," she thought and smiled to herself.