Confessions of a Nurse

Chapter 2: Sylvia

When I was 18, just starting out on my career in nursing and still wet behind the ears, I lost my virginity to an elderly patient in my care. It was only the next day that I started worrying that he may have made me pregnant. We were much more naïve about that sort of thing in 1967and it had never occurred to me to ask him to use a condom (which we called rubber johnnies back then).

I was scared stiff for a few days. I could have sought advice from my supervisor on my ward, Sister Tanner, but I thought I would get into terrible trouble. Instead I stupidly blurted out my fears to a fellow nurse, Diana Curtis. She had seen me come out of Mr Martin's room -- he was the patient -- and suspected something had gone on anyway; besides, she was from a posh family and had gone to a private school so I thought she was terribly sophisticated, even though she was only a few years older than me. Unfortunately she was also a lazy, callous bitch just working in the hospital until she could ensnare a rich husband. She laughed harshly when I told her how worried I was, and quipped "I wouldn't worry dear, old Willy (her nickname for the well-endowed Mr Martin) probably has a sperm count so low it'd make the record books."

I was never more relieved in my life than when, a few days later, my period started on time. In the meantime, however, Diana got a great laugh at my expense telling all and sundry, behind my back, how "that silly little tart Sally lost her cherry to old wicked Willy." Naturally it got back to Sister Tanner, and I reported for work one day to find that, with no prior warning, I had been transferred to a different ward.

I didn't entirely lose contact with my old ward. Although Sister Tanner and I were on overlapping shifts our tea breaks seemed to coincide, and she would often come and sit with me in the canteen. Although she had a reputation as a bit of a dragon, Sister had always been very kind and encouraging to me. She was a 40-year old from Belfast, and Diana had told me she was a dyke who wanted to get into my knickers, but I dismissed that as malicious gossip -- at first. Every day as we sipped our tea and nibbled our biscuits I expected Tanner to tell me how stupid I'd been to have it away with a patient, and how lucky was to keep my job, but she never mentioned it. Instead we'd chat about how our day was going, she'd tell me the occasional funny story about this or that patient, and offer me the odd bit of advice on how to do my job better. I grew to like her company, and I quite enjoyed the attention she gave me.

One day when I was doing my rounds on my ward I saw Diana at the door, obviously looking for me. When I approached her I noticed a nasty gleam in her eye, and she told me, "I thought you'd want to know darling, old Willie's kicked the bucket. We got a letter from his daughter. It's on our ward if you want to see it." I was stunned. It had been only a few weeks since Mr Martin was discharged from the hospital -- the day after we had made love -- and I had assumed they were letting him leave because his condition had improved. It had never occurred to me that he'd been sent home to die!

I got one of my colleagues on my new ward to cover for me and rushed over to my old workplace. Sure enough, there was the letter, pinned to the notice board. It said the old boy had passed away peacefully in his sleep, and how grateful his daughter was to the hospital staff for the care he had received. It was as I read the next part that I felt my eyes begin to prickle: 'I would particularly like to thank one nurse, Sally Gerrard, for the attention and extra help she gave Dad. He was full of praise for how kind she was and how much she did to cheer him up. I can't tell you how grateful I am to her.'

I couldn't read any further, with my eyes swimming with tears. I felt as if someone had scooped my insides out with a rusty shovel. It wasn't just that Mr Martin was the only man who had ever made love to me; in my short career I had never before known a patient who had died, and I just wasn't ready for it. I fled out of the room sobbing and ran straight into Sister Tanner, literally. She was going off-shift and had changed out of her starched navy blue uniform into a low-cut blouse which accentuated her generous cleavage, and tight black slacks which did the same for her big bum. Seeing the state I was in she wordlessly hustled me into her office and hugged me to her, stroking my hair and whispering soothing sounds into my ear. I found my head resting on her large, comforting bust, my nose actually rubbing against the soft, silky skin of one breast.

As I began to calm down Sister murmured to me, in her Northern Irish brogue, "You're going to be a good nurse, Sally, you care about your patients. In time you'll develop a harder outer shell, but it'll always hurt when you lose one of the good ones." As she spoke her right arm was cradling me to her, and I became vaguely aware that her fingers were lightly stroking the side of my breast through my uniform. Despite the anguish I still felt, I was aware of a tingling sensation, and my nipple beginning to harden.

Sister insisted on making me a cup of tea, and as we sat together she said casually, "You're very sweet you know Sally, I've always been extremely fond of you. I'd like us to become friends as well as colleagues -- I think that's probably easier now we're not working together. Do you think it's possible?" I did like her, a lot, and I was really grateful right then for her kindness to me; I smiled and nodded, and said I'd like that too. With a broad smile she cupped her hand over mine on the desk and said, "Then why don't you come round to my place for coffee sometime? It's only a couple of streets from the hospital, and we could start getting to know each other socially." I said that would be nice, and we agreed on the following evening. As I was leaving Sister said, "Oh, and when we're not at work you must call me Sylvia." Then she hugged me to her and planted a lingering kiss on my forehead.

I lay awake in bed that night, my sister gently snoring across the room, as I thought about what had happened in Sylvia Tanner's room. Although I was sexually inexperienced, I'd read enough romantic fiction to feel that her approach to me had been more than that of a friend, more like the flirting of a would-be lover. I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that. I had never really understood why people felt it was wrong to fall in love with someone, just because they happened to be the same sex as you; nevertheless, I had never really thought about lezzies, as girls at school had called them, and whether I might ever be attracted to one. I did know, though, that I really liked being around Sylvia, and the sensation of her arms around me, and her fingers caressing my boob, had felt good. By the following morning I had made my decision: I was going to Sylvia's place, and whatever happened would happen. I told myself Diana was probably talking rubbish anyway -- Sylvia's interest in me was no doubt entirely innocent, just friendship as she had said.

Which didn't really explain why, over breakfast the next morning, I told my Mum a friend had invited me to her birthday party and I might sleep over. I was nervous and clumsy all day at work, wondering what the evening would hold for me. I saw Sylvia only once, briefly, and she trilled "I hope you haven't forgotten our date, poppet?" My heart did a somersault at her use of that word, but I gave her a big smile and said I was looking forward to it, very much. That evening, at the end of my shift, I changed into a green turtle-neck sweater, which contrasted nicely with my long light brown hair, and black skin-tight slacks, then made the shot walk to Sylvia's home. She lived on the 21st floor of one of the new tower blocks the city council were so proud of at the time. All the way up in the lift I nervously played with my hair, my heart thumping like a 21-gun salute. I stood outside Sylvia's door for nearly a minute plucking up the courage to ring the bell. The second I did she opened the door, probably having been watching me through the spy hole set into it.

I caught my breath on seeing Sylvia -- she looked stunning. Her glossy black hair, normally worn in a bun at work, played around her bare shoulders, displayed by a low-cut strapless black dress. She never used make-up at work, but now she wore blue eyeshadow, matching her eyes, and deep red lipstick. The dress ended at her knees, and her shapely lightly tanned legs were bare, ending in a pair of shiny black open-toed high-heeled shoes. Her toenails were painted a burgundy colour, but her fingernails were bare. All in all she looked as if she was dressed up for an evening out -- a very sexy one. She placed her hands on my shoulders and, leaning towards me, gave me a sticky kiss on the cheek, saying "Hello sweetheart, I'm so glad you're here." I felt distinctly dowdy beside her, and apologised for my appearance. She laughed lightly. "Don't be silly poppet, you look as lovely as always, really."

As I entered the stylishly furnished, low-lit apartment I was drawn magnetically towards the full length sliding glass door, which opened onto a small balcony. Sylvia suggested I have a look while she fixed us a glass of sherry each. As I stood on the balcony in the darkness of night the lights of the city twinkled far below me. The sight was mesmerising. I jumped slightly as I felt Sylvia's arms snake around my waist from behind, her body pressed against mine. Her chin resting on my shoulder, she half-whispered, "Amazing, isn't it -- I sometimes stand here for ages just gazing at it." Her hands slowly slid up my body and, for no more than a second, cupped the undersides of my small breasts. Then, taking my hand, she led me back inside and sat me on a black leather sofa, where she gave me a large glass of sherry. I wasn't used to drinking alcohol, and as the oily brown liquid slipped down my throat I could feel a warm glow rising in my cheeks and my chest. I no longer had any doubts in my mind as to what Sylvia's intentions were towards me.

As she laid her arm casually along the back of the sofa behind me, I felt at the same time terrified yet strangely excited about the new experience I was about to have. With forced casualness Sylvia asked me about my boyfriend, then said, "Oh no, I remember you telling me you don't have a boyfriend. You're not a virgin though, are you?" I felt my cheeks glow again, this time with embarrassment. Sylvia's voice was quiet, teasing, almost hypnotic. As our eyes locked I was like a rabbit frozen in oncoming headlights. She continued "You really shouldn't have told that evil cow Diana about you and the old man. The whole ward knew within a day; that was why I had you transferred, certainly not to put you further away from me. You should have come to me. I'd even have got you help if you'd found you were in the family way. I'd do anything for you, poppet."

As Sylvia spoke the hand along the back of the sofa started gently toying with my hair. Her eyes still locked on mine, she put down her sherry glass, took mine from my limp hand, and closed her arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards her. Then I was locked in the deepest kiss I had ever experienced, Sylvia's tongue running along my teeth then circling my own tongue. The feel of her soft lips pressing against mine, and of her soft boobs against me, was quite beautiful. I returned the kiss with amateur enthusiasm then, acting on instinct, my small hand closed around one of her boobs. Immediately encouraged, Sylvia reached for the hem of my jumper and slipped it over my head. We resumed the kiss, I now laying full length beneath her on the sofa, sucking on her tongue as her hand slipped beneath my lacy black bra and cupped one of my small tits. I wanted to feel Sylvia's flesh too. Reaching behind her I found a zip on her dress. It slid down easily and the palm of my hand began to massage the soft, pampered skin just below her bra strap. It all seemed perfectly natural to me, and very nice. Sylvia broke our kiss and nuzzled my neck, gasping "Oh god Sally, I want you. Let's go to bed sweetie."

With that she scooped me into her arms -- I'm only five-feet two and she stood a head taller than me -- and carried me into her bedroom, kissing me as she walked. The only illumination in the bedroom came from a small neon light over a dressing table, and in the intimate semi-darkness Sylvia sat me on the bed, reached around me and unclipped my bra. She kissed my tummy and I shuddered, pressing her warm cheek to the soft flesh of my belly. She nuzzled my navel with her tongue as she undid my slacks. I rolled back onto the bed, raising my bum to allow her to slide the slacks and my black nylon briefs, quite damp by now, down my legs. I lay back on a cool cotton sheet and watched Sylvia undress. I would have expected to feel nervous; in fact, I felt as relaxed and at ease as I had in a long time, enjoying the sight of a woman only a few years younger than my mother disrobing in preparation for taking me as her lesbian lover.

As she quickly slipped off her dress, push-up bra and silk panties, I marvelled at the differences between Sylvia's body and my own. I was quite skinny with a small bust (though nicely rounded boobies with pert pink nipples), slim hips but prominent hip bones, and a sparse patch of pubic hair which stopped short of my vaginal lips. Sylvia had a classic hourglass figure -- big bust, quite a slim waist, and wide hips. Her big boobs, capped by long, thick brown nipples, hung with slight stretch marks and swayed slightly as she swung onto the bed to join me. I was surprised to see that, between her big fleshy thighs, her pubes were not the luxuriant black of her head but a mousy brown colour. The hair extended between her legs, right up to her bum hole. She put her arms around me and I sighed with pleasure as, for the first time in my life, my naked body pressed full length against that of another. I loved her soft lips massaging my ear lobe and pressing against my throat; the sensual mingling of our breasts; and the soft warmth of her thigh as she pressed it gently between my legs, rubbing it against my wet snatch.

I trembled as Sylvia's fingertips ghosted tantalisingly across my tummy. She misinterpreted my reaction, and whispered "Don't be scared baby, I'll take it gently, I promise." She eased me fully onto my back and, as we kissed more deeply still, rested the palm of her hand on my pubes, her fingers lying passively along my slit. My body began to grow impatient and pushed at her hand. Finally, slowly, oh so slowly, she eased a finger inside me and let it rest there. As she started to stir it around in my pussy I groaned and, chuckling into my mouth, she introduced a second finger into me. I clung to her more tightly than ever, and began to knead her big padded buttocks with my fingers. I couldn't reach her pussy but, with a mind of its own, one of my fingers wormed its way into her rectum and began gently probing the tight passage. She gasped "Oh Christ, that's good." The pace of her fingers in my pussy quickened, and I suddenly felt lightning bolts shooting through me as she pressed a thumb and finger to my clitty and began tweaking it. Seconds later a blazing inferno started inside me and, as if from a distance, I heard myself screaming. I wasn't sure at that moment what was happening to me, I just knew I wanted it to carry on happening for ever.

I went limp after my huge orgasm, and Sylvia hugged me to her, stroking my hair and shooshing in my ear, kissing away the tears which had streamed down my face. She whispered, "I've dreamt of doing that for you, seeing your pretty face as you come on my fingers." As she held me in her arms my face again nestled against one of those magnificent boobs. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to slip my lips onto it, and chew on that sumptuous big nipple, at the same time flicking it with my tongue. With a hand I stroked the other boob, running my fingers down it until they met at her nipple, which I tweaked. Sylvia's legs wrapped around me and I felt her furry, sopping wet pussy rubbing up and down my thigh. I stiffened my muscles to help her and, after a minute or so, she gasped and her head snapped back, her eyes tightly closed. Collapsing beside me on the bed, she pushed a finger into her slit, then ran the next finger along my slit, making me squirm. Leaning up on one elbow next to me she held both fingers to my mouth and, unhesitatingly, I sucked on them, savouring the bitter sweet taste of our juices. Sylvia smiled lovingly at me and husked, "Oh darling, do you have any idea just how sweet you are?"

After a few minutes gentle kissing and stroking, to recover our breath, Sylvia kissed her way down my throat and closed her mouth over one of my breasts. As she licked and sucked me, she mumbled, "Do you want me to go down on you, angel?" I wasn't sure what that meant, but I said yes, happy for her to do anything she thought I'd like. As her tongue slipped past my ribcage and across my pubes I realised what she was going to do, and shuffled my thighs wide apart in anticipation. I knew people did kiss women down there, but I couldn't begin to imagine how it would feel. She blew gently on my pussy and I shuddered, and the moment her tongue pressed against my clit was the most incredible sensation I had known. It wasn't an explosion -- it was more as if I was suddenly floating in the biggest, richest sea of the most wonderful chocolate liqueur ever made, and the sensation just went on and on as she licked my clit, then the length of my slit, then dove deep into me with her tongue. When she started nibbling on my clitty, the fingers of one hand stroking around my pussy lips, those of the other hand plunging in and out of me, that's when the explosions started and, unable to help myself, I began whining like a little dog, my hips bucking with the sheer ecstasy of what Sylvia was doing to me. In the end she had to put her hands on my thighs to hold me still enough for her to nibble and lick me to another shattering climax. This time, as I came, she returned a favour I'd done her earlier, thrusting a finger deep into my bum, making stars burst in my head. We kissed again, and this time I had the pleasure of sucking my love nectar off my lover's tongue.

As we lay cuddling afterwards I suddenly realised I hadn't eaten for hours before finishing work, and I was ravenously hungry. Sylvia made us both cheese on toast while I, completely unself-consciously, stood naked on the balcony outside the bedroom, taking in the twinkling stars that were my home city down below. We ate our meal in bed, feeding each other, licking crumbs off each other's breasts. Then I asked Sylvia if I could go down on her. She smiled and rested a palm against my cheek. "I'd love you to darling; but don't feel you have to, not straight away." In response I caressed her belly with my lips and slipped a finger inside the furnace of her pussy. As my face neared her lips I gazed at them in fascination. They were fleshy folds of dark skin, peeping through the jungle of hair, glinting wetly in the dull light. I was totally unprepared for the gorgeous exotic aroma of a woman's arousal; I inhaled deeply and felt slightly light-headed as the rich, musky scent entered my nostrils. As I trailed my tongue up and down Sylvia's crack she groaned "Oh Jeeesussss!" and slumped back on the bed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. I quickly located her nubby white clitty and sucked on it, playing three fingers inside her and loving the unique taste on my tongue.

After several minutes of licking, sucking, chewing and fingering Sylvia, hearing her increasingly loud moans through the cushioning of thighs pressed against my ears, I was rewarded with a sudden heavy surge of liquid onto my tongue, as her moans turned to roars. She subsided for a moment but I carried on, wanting to make her come again. However, she squirmed around beneath me until her head was also between my legs. Now looking at her pussy the other way round I stroked her clit with my fingers and lapped my tongue in her pussy, as she in turn buried her head in my cunt and pleasured me with her mouth, her fingers, even her nose and chin. I thought this was the most wonderful position imaginable, simultaneously giving each other pleasure and receiving the most wonderful servicing. We both came several times, gasping and sobbing until we collapsed together in a sweat-bathed, trembling heap.