The aftermath of an epic party can be pretty messy, and this one had ended as an absolute disaster for one handsome eighteen-year-old recent-grad who went by the name of Clint. Too much booze, too much pot, and too many scantily-clad and horny girls around him to impress had -- surprise! -- led to one monumental lapse in judgement that now had him lying in a hospital bed with both -- yes, BOTH -- of his hands and wrists wrapped in plaster casts for the next six to eight weeks! He couldn't feed himself, dress himself, or even wipe himself. That all sucked! But at this moment, the hard-on standing up before him was screaming for release and all he could do was look at it while it messed with his head. The Anderson twins, two identical vixens who had graduated a year ahead of him, had made it very clear that his reward for successfully executing that stupid stunt was going to be free use of their stunning bodies later that night, but instead, there he was, horny as Hell, and unable to do a thing about it. To make matters worse, the room was a little warm, so the hot nurse working his floor had only covered his feet when she left him to sleep a few hours earlier, and now his raging boner was concealed only by the thinnest of cotton hospital gowns, left untied in the back. The clock on the wall told him that he was minutes away from being checked on for his night-time vitals and a couple more meds, and there wasn't a thing he could do to add any discretion to his already embarrassing situation.
Chrissy Nelson had always dreamed of being a nurse. All through high school, she had kept her nose in the books and her body in the science labs, never giving herself permission to let loose and be a teenager like everyone else did. Her mother had conceived her as a teen, and it had been drilled into her from the earliest of years that single-motherhood was not going to be a part of her life, so she better not let any boys convince her to give them access to her holy-of-holies. It wasn't until her freshman year of college that she finally realized that she could have fun with guys without getting pregnant, and so actually enjoyed learning about the male anatomy with several of her fellow nursing and pre-med classmates during their late-night study sessions. By the time she graduated from college, Chrissy knew exactly what she was doing in the hospital room as well as in the bedroom.
The door opened promptly at midnight, and Chrissy quietly entered Clint's room so as not to disturb his rest, hoping that her patient was fast asleep. It had been an eventful day for him, and the effects of the narcotics given during surgery can really wipe out even the healthiest of people. The room was dark except for the glow of the monitors tracking his vitals. As she approached the bed to check on her patient, Clint lay motionless, and she assumed that he was sleeping. In actuality, he was very much awake, and his eyes were just slightly cracked open to allow him to watch what was happening in the room. Clint had quickly concluded that his only chance at not being embarrassed by the obvious engorgement of his cock was to fake that he was asleep and hope that she wouldn't notice. But she did notice. How could she not? His boner was standing up before him proudly, almost pleading for attention from the pretty blonde nurse standing just inches away. Her eyes locked on to it, and Clint's cock pulsed in response, a small droplet of pre-cum forming a wet spot on his gown. Nurse Chrissy hadn't enjoyed a cock for several months, and she could feel her own wetness developing as she fought to maintain her professionalism. But admiring a little wasn't violating any ethics, right? As long as she didn't touch. So, she stared -- hard -- at Clint's cock for quite a bit longer than she should have, and, clenching her thighs tightly and rhythmically, allowed her own arousal to swell within her. Without even thinking, her left hand found its way to her breasts and gave each nipple a pinch as her right hand lowered and gave her pussy just a little rub through her hospital scrubs. She was so transfixed that she didn't realize that Clint was watching her every movement, and the rhythmic throbbing of his cock as he watched the erotic spectacle of her pleasuring herself was captivating her as the wetness from his pre-cum became larger and larger on the fabric of his smock.
Clint could almost physically feel her eyes visually stroking his dick, and he sensed his balls pulling tightly against his shaft, the inevitability of his arousal now a certainty. The point of no return was near as he tried to stay motionless so as not to interrupt the fantasy playing out before him, but his hips began to gyrate ever so slightly in anticipation of the release that was imminent, and his glans rubbed against the damp fabric, adding even more stimulation and making holding back now impossible. This was the moment where Clint first realized that he had both voyeuristic and exhibitionist kinks that he hadn't yet discovered, and the thrill of watching and being watched was adding a savory excitement to the experience. Chrissy was captivated herself and continued her self-pleasure as well, hoping to witness the familiar spectacle of the male orgasm play out in his sleep before her.
Clint felt himself cross the line, and moments later, his cock erupted with a torrent of cum under Chrissy's watchful gaze, saturating the front of his smock. The distinct aroma wafted from him hypnotically as Chrissy savored his musky scent, and her swollen clit began to unmercifully throb its approval. Realizing that she was right at the edge of an ethical violation, Chrissy quickly exited and headed straight across the hallway into an empty room, locking the door behind her, and plunged her fingers into the front of her scrubs, rapidly stimulating herself to her own powerful orgasm, the image of Clint's ejaculating cock playing over and over in her mind. "I really need to get laid!" Chrissy thought as she wiped away her own wetness and tried to regain her composure.
Now Clint had another dilemma. He could lay there in his sticky mess and wait for it to air dry, or he could take advantage of the situation and see how much farther he could push this. Moving the back of his cast against the call-button, he made his decision.
"Shit!" Chrissy thought, knowing what the call was about. But she was a nurse, and her patient had paged her, so she mustered her professionalism and headed across the hallway to Clint's room once again.
"How can I help you?" she asked innocently as she walked into the room, already knowing the answer.
"I seem to have had a... dream, and I'm kind of a mess. Can you help clean me up a little?" Ordinarily, Clint would have been mortified, but he knew that she had just watched him cum and was clearly pretty horny herself, so his embarrassment had turned to full-on lust.
"Oh!" Chrissy pretended. "I see. That's perfectly natural. Let me get a warm washcloth and we'll get you cleaned up." Chrissy the medical-professional knew that men had penises, and that they did what they did, but Chrissy the horny twenty-something could feel her pussy begin to tingle again knowing that she was going to get to check this penis out close up, and based on what she had already seen of the good-looking eighteen-year-old, his was going to be a fun one to care for.
"I think we'd better start by getting rid of this dirty smock and getting you a clean one," she started, trying her best to sound professional. The ties were already loose and with just minimal effort, Clint was naked on the hospital bed, his magnificent cock now on full display before her, still glistening with his cum, and beginning to swell again before her eyes. "Now, let me clean you up." Chrissy put on a pair of latex gloves and began to carefully wipe all the remnants of his ejaculate from his cock, balls, and abdomen, being extra careful not to miss any. The eighteen-year-old's cock quickly came back to life in her hand and, while maintaining her professionalism, Chrissy made certain to take as long as she possibly could with her clean-up to gently stroke him until he was again at full mast in her hand. Behind them, the monitor began to alarm that Clint's pulse rate was soaring. "I'm sorry! I hope I didn't make it do that," she apologized, letting go of him and turning to find a dry gown.
"That's... that's okay," he stammered. "Thanks for giving me a hand!" They both laughed at the lame joke.
