This story is based on those fantasies people, me in particular, have about being the end all of end alls in sexual prowess. The ability to provide pleasure to people at whim, in a manner that provides opportunities that otherwise would never be possible.
John had always wanted to be the one true ladies' man. He'd wished on stars, at wishing wells, and even included a prayer or two to make himself so attractive and desirable that all women would want him immediately. Over the years of fruitless wishing his wishes changed a little and became a wish to be able to make women cum through thought. Kind of a cumulative wish between the babe magnet and the bend a fork without touching it fantasies.
Although reasonably attractive, at slightly over 6 feet, trim at 190 pounds and athletic with dark brown hair and eyes, his shyness held him back from being defined as a "ladies' man." He had a good sense of humor, was laid back and could deal with most stressful events without getting unreasonably angry, but wasn't a pushover and could hold his own in an argument. His work kept him pretty busy but he still had time to wish he could attract several of the ladies at the office and add some quality playtime to his schedule. He still looked younger than his years at age 40.
As John was driving home from his over 30 league baseball game, after putting in four 16 hour days at the office, it began to rain. His fuse had blown on his radio and he was thinking of how to get the bastards at the Mercedes dealership to fix the thing for real this time. Four times to the dealership for the same problem was really pissing him off now. Better to think of something pleasant, like Nancy at the office. God was she beautiful. He wanted her to notice him but always seemed to stand in the elevator with her in total silence.
The elevator was a slow one and he always grew uncomfortable as he stood with nothing to do other than stare at the door expectantly. He did notice that she had no rings, but an awesome body. Nice firm breasts, with nipples that always seemed to be at attention. Light brown straight hair that looked like silk that flowed over her shoulders to the middle of her back. Long legs that appeared from under her normally, just slightly shorter than appropriate skirts, with trim, muscular in that feminine sort of way calves, long thighs with the muscle ridge that told him they were firm, under skin that appeared so soft.
He knew from overheard conversations that she had been through a couple of failed relationships in the past few months. That this guy just wanted to live off her, that guy was a little too cocky for her tastes. How he had wanted to raise his hand and say "ooh me ooh me" when she was lamenting about the fact that there isn't a decent guy out there anywhere, to her friends. All these thoughts ran through his head as the sun went down, dark descended over him and it began to rain. He fought to keep from being mesmerized by the windshield wipers.
When he woke up, he realized that the rain was hitting his face. His car was laying on its side a few yards from where he lay, with one rear tire sticking up towards the sky turning slowly like it would never stop. He looked to his other side and saw the hill, with the broken guardrail at the top and the signs of his end over end trip down the hill to the bottom of the ravine. "shit, I must've fallen asleep behind the wheel, I wonder if anyone will find me..." were the thoughts that ran through his head, which, by the way was pounding. He slowly moved each limb, determined that, although severely bruised the only part of him that took any serious damage was his head. The bump on the back of his head was egg sized already, growing rapidly and bleeding. He knew he took a pretty hard hit. He slowly raised his body off the ground and worked his way up the hill back to the road.
An explanation to the first nice person that stopped, two cell phone calls and a ride in an ambulance and John was in the hospital. As he lay on the treatment table getting the wound in his scalp sewn shut he looked over and saw the nurses legs, trim legs, nice legs and he began to wonder what she would look like under that stark white and starched uniform. He closed his eyes and imagined running his hand up under her skirt, what it would feel like as his fingers met the fabric of her panties, would they be sexy silk, a vixen in disguise, or would they be sensible cotton? He could imagine the feel of them under his fingers, the feel of her lips through the... silk, had to be silk. He could feel them growing, becoming softer, spreading slowly for him, the sensation of actually feeling her was so real to him.
The faceless legs before him began to move, to jiggle, to spread. He heard a sigh, one that reminded him of the last bout of horizontal aerobics he had participated in. As he turned his head slightly to see the face that matched the legs he saw a nurse, just a plain looking woman, relatively skinny, hair tucked up under one of those modified shower caps that surgical nurses wear. Her face was flushed, her forehead glistened with a sheen of perspiration, but it wasn't hot in the treatment room. "what the hell is going on here?" thought John and then his conscious thought was consumed with, "Ow shit! That hurt!" as he received the anesthesia for the stitches.
A few hours later after arguing, unsuccessfully, that he was fine to go home, he was laying in the hospital bed watching TV. Not a show that he would ordinarily watch but having been placed in a semi private room he had to share the channel selector. Another one of the degrading things he had to endure as part of a hospital stay. The nurse came in, not the same one as the emergency room but the same type. The kind that asks you questions only so she can write the answers in your chart, the just another piece of meat type of personality. She was pleasantly plump and apparently not willing to admit the change in her body. Her uniform was a little too tight, the buttons straining to hold her oversized breasts in, the slight pouch just below the waist.
