Dee Fisher smiled wryly at her reflection in the mirror as she stood scrutinising her appearance in the staff room mirror. Her night shift had been gruelling, a twelve hour stint in St Luke's A&E, and while there were no gunshot wounds or stabbings to care for in such a small city's local hospital, there had been no shortage of alcoholics, drunken men fighting over frivolous young tarts in the nightclubs; every night was the same, tending for lacerated faces and dislocated knuckles.
Not to mention the elderly folk who came in with hypothermia or fractured hips following a slip on the ice, and the usual cases of infections, sprains, tummy bugs and grazes. She looked down at her blue uniform. I'm a mess, she thought, eyeing a smear of something nasty across her breast and a blood stain near her hem. Still, not bad for a thirty-something working sixty hours a week she thought. When it wasn't scraped back into a functional ponytail, her long brown hair framed a perfect rosy complexion and deep brown eyes which were large and always full of fire. He blue sister's dress clung tightly across her full bosom then fell to skim lightly over her tight waist and curvaceous hips. If it wasn't for that stain, she thought, I don't look half bad.
Sighing deeply, she set off for her shared office. For the last three weeks she had been seeing Danny, one of the paramedics who brought the emergency cases to her department and she had begun a routine of applying a little make-up and ensuring her hair was loose before leaving. She could never know whether he might be outside, waiting for a shout. They'd been on three dates, each becoming more erotically charged than the other, and yet they still had only made it to a quick fumble in front of her flat before she had shied away and not asked him in under the pretence of coffee. God, what's wrong with me, she thought, it's been six months since I last spent the night with a man and yet I keep turning down these opportunities! She had always been a confident lover, enjoying sex as a way of relaxation, but following the breakup with Ged, a male nurse from a neighbouring department, her confidence had been knocked.
Leaning against the solid fire door, she was about to turn the handle and step in to her office when her attention was gripped by a rattling in the stock room one door further down the corridor. Not another fucking druggie trying to break into the medical supplies again. Tentatively she peered round the door, trying to maintain her secrecy. The last thing she needed was an opiate-starved addict taking her hostage in order to demand methadone or morphine.
The rattling was indeed coming from the cupboard stocked with vials of drugs and anaesthetics, but it wasn't the only noise which met Dee's ears. She could now hear breathing, coming in rasping gasps, and a woman's moaning, low and animalistic. Dee's nipples tightened as her eyes focussed on the scene presented to her. Doctor Hirokama, the night consultant, was perched on the prep area bench, her skirt shoved high up on her waist and her pale buttocks shunting against the stock cupboards as a man, one of the porters if she wasn't mistaken, was stood in front of her, ploughing into her with such ferocity that the whole room was juddering time to the thrusts of his hips. Doctor Hirokama's head was thrown back and Dee could tell that the woman was near orgasm, her lips moist and open as her moans became more primitive.
Not wanting to be caught at this voyeuristic scene, Dee quietly pulled the door back closed and turned quickly away. Returning to her office, she began to giggle to herself. The consultant, the highest powered person working directly in the ER and the most bitchy, self-obsessed woman she had ever met, being fucked by the porter of all people? Dee almost laughed out loud but managed to restrain herself and ran her hands through her hair, letting it fall loose around her shoulders. Danny almost certainly would have finished his shift now and must be on the way home, just like she ought to be, and she picked up her handbag and left for the bus stop.
Out the side door and through the ambulance bay, Dee shivered in the cold air as she realised she'd left her coat at home the evening previous and she upped her speed as she stalked across the forecourt. Looking to her right to ensure she wasn't mown down by one of their "blue-light taxis" her eyes were met by the figure Danny, leaning against the side of his ambulance with a cup of vending machine coffee wafting steam over his face. God he looked good! Six foot three inches of green-clad muscle, she ignored the cold to allow her eyes to appraise his physique. Lifting patients in and out of the ambulance all day obviously did him good, he looked fantastic and his smile was warm as he chatted to his partner Tony, sharing a joke as both of them laughed.
Dee's pussy clenched tightly as she remembered the coupling pair in the stock room and she tried to push the image out of her mind as she gazed at the man who she fantasized about every morning, alone in her bed. She could feel herself moistening and resolved to go over and say hello, even if she was covered in the stains of a busy night's nursing.
As she approached, Danny turned to look at her, and he watched her full hips swaying purposefully towards him and a slightly concerned look flicked over her face. She was like a luscious peach, soft fragrant flesh encasing juicy firmness if his experience was anything to go by. Her cool professional front did nothing to allay his suspicions that beneath there lay a temptress, demanding worship, and he felt his cock stirring within the confines of his padded green paramedic's jumpsuit.
"Hi Danny, how's your shift been?" she tried to remain nonchalant as her pulse quickened.
"Not too bad, had one feisty one, that lad from Dean's? He wasn't best pleased that we were prising him away from some young piece of skirt, hadn't even noticed that half his ear was off an thought we were tryin to muscle in on her. As if the uniform doesn't give him a clue that we might not just be on a night out like him!"
"Yeah, I had the pleasure of gluing that one together again, he left me a battle scar" she lifted the hem of her dress up, indicating to the bloodstain but also keenly aware that her stocking-top was being scrutinised. She lingered, feeling bold, one finger tracing the black lace, then shuddered as an icy blast of winter shot round her legs.
