My Mother Nurse O'sullivan

Lewis stormed along the field as fast as his tired out legs would carry him, dribbling the black and white soccer ball past the opposing players who attempted to snatch it from his possession, not daring to give it up to the Ohio Ravens. Sticking close to the faded white line marking the edge of the grassy playing area, Lewis just barely prevented the ball from going out of play as his outstretched arms struggled to fend off the defending player, using his nimble body to balance himself in spite of the attempts to throw him off the pitch. A grimace crossed his lips when the defender snatched a handful of his red and white jersey, pulling it hard enough to tear the threads and leave a section of it flapping as Lewis sped towards the corner.

Seeing an opening, he turned his body and flicked the ball across to his teammate, taking a small breather when the attention was taken away from him. But with less than a minute left on the clock, Lewis surged back into action and rushed over to the box at full speed, shrugging off the player tasked with marking him and sidestepping any attempts to impede his approach. With his opponents proving all too willing to play a dirty game, Lewis wasn't prepared to take any risks and kept an eye on his footing to reduce the possibility of being tripped up.

Lewis briefly cast his gaze towards the packed-out bleachers, scanning across the mass of family members and fans of Steelmore High's home fans exploding with excitement, driven by the frenzy produced by such a close tie. Among the cheering crowd was his mother and younger sister, both of whom were stood right at the front of the bleachers and sharing in the assembled crowd's, though he noticed that his sister was far more interested in her phone than watching the knife-edge game.

But his mother, Martha O'Sullivan, couldn't have been any more exuberant if she tried. Leaping up and down on the steel bench, she cupped her hands around her mouth and chanted his name at the top of her voice, with the swell of her bust stretching her own matching jersey to breaking point. Her platinum blonde hair twinkled as the blazing sun bore down on the field, with her stunning blue eyes shielded from the glare by a pair of designer sunglasses. As hard as he tried to keep his eyes firmly locked on the game at hand, he couldn't stop himself from quickly appreciating the way her slim-fit jeans hugged her long legs, moulding to every contour she had worked so hard to preserve, leading down to the wedge heels that only further enhanced her sumptuous figure.

However, his moment of distraction didn't go unpunished, earning him another kick to his leg when the ball was abruptly returned to him. The scraping of his opponent's studs was enough to rip his sock to shreds, leaving a chunk of it dangling pointlessly as Lewis fought to keep possession of the ball. Determined to do his mother proud -- and to make himself stand out in front of any college soccer programme scouts lurking in the crowd -- Lewis launched into a sprint, becoming far more conscious of those around him when the opposing players resorted to desperate measures.

A handful of risky moves enabled him to move deeper into the box, holding his arms out to reduce to the impact of the body checks came his way, each one designed to use the referee's reluctance to call a foul to try and throw him to the ground. But with the final within reach, Lewis decided that the risks were worth it, even if it earned him a fond scolding from his mom after the game was over. A few well timed passes between his teammates and himself within the box allowed them to drag out the clock, wearing down the defenders in the process. He jolted, skipping over a slide tackle that made no attempt to touch the ball, aimed directly at his legs.

It took almost thirty seconds of jostling before the moment arrived, delivering the opportunity he had been waiting for. A one on one with the keeper was all that separated him from victory, a battle Lewis had no intention of losing. He sucked in a breath, focusing purely on the approaching goalkeeper, looking for any gap that he believed the goalie stood no chance of saving. Finally, he spotted his chance, cocking his leg back just when the goalie made a dive for the ball.

A modest tap was all the ball needed, raising it towards the top corner, well beyond the reach of the goalie's glove. But Lewis wasn't granted the luxury of watching the ball soar towards the net, not when the goalkeeper made a violent collision with his legs. Instead of jubilation, incredible pain sent Lewis crashing to the dirt, rolling in agony as fiery pain shot from his leg. Before the blinding pain sent him into unconsciousness, Lewis spotted the increasingly blurry silhouette of his mother dashing towards him, unhindered by her wedges as she led the pack of joyous home fans.

~•~•~•~•~•~

Lewis stared up at the white fluorescent lights above, resorting to counting the number of ceiling tiles running from one end of the ceiling to the other, starting over when the blare of an ambulance siren threw him off count. The monotonous beeps and whines of hospital equipment only added to his growing boredom, sending his head plummeting back to the paper-covered pillow as he restarted his count for the third time since he was rolled into the room.

Painkillers went a long way towards dulling the pain in his leg, but did little to alleviate the dull twinge of discomfort that came from even the slightest movement. He hated the wait, forced to remain in the dark until the doctor arrived to give their prognosis. Lewis was by no means an expert when it came to leg injuries, but he was at least sure that a pain strong enough to knock him out didn't bode well for his chances of walking out of the hospital doors unaided.

"Mr O'Sullivan?" a delicate voice spoke, shortly joined by a gentle knock against the open door. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Hmm?" Lewis raised his head, feeling his dark mood brighten up significantly when he found a stunning latina stood in the doorway, dressed in a set of nurse's scrubs that hugged her mouth-watering body a little too well. He dragged his upper body upright, trying to appear non-chalant, not daring to allow his eyes to wander in they way they so craved. "Erm, no. No, you're not disturbing me. And please, call me Lewis."

"Alright, then I insist that you call me Maria. Let me guess, you're absolutely bored out of your skull and can't stop yourself from counting the ceiling tiles?" the nurse flashed a pearly smile, sweeping over to the machines parked beside the bed. "Am I right?"

"Yeah, that's exactly what I've been doing," Lewis answered, drawn immediately to Maria's ass as she bent over to fiddle with one of the heart monitors, involuntarily swaying her hips as she struggled with the bundle of tangled wires. "I'm just waiting for my mom to return with the doctor. Something tells me that I'm not getting good news."

"I wouldn't say that," Maria turned, giving Lewis's leg a quick appraisal. "I bet it feels worse than it looks. Believe me, I've had patients who've spent hours worrying that they're at death's door, only to find themselves sent on their way with a few bandages and a bottle of aspirin. I remember last Halloween when a man came into ER screaming that thought he'd been stabbed, only to discover that the alleged weapon was a retractable prop knife."

"Knowing my luck, I wouldn't be surprised to find out that my season is done," Lewis shook his head, but still gave the nurse a grateful smile. "I just wish that I had your optimism."

"Trust me, you'll be back on your feet in no time," Maria winked, finally turning the tide in her battle against the vines of electrical wires, disentangling the unit from the others.

Lewis felt a pang of guilt as he continued to ogle Maria, but the lack of anything else to distract him from the tedium drove his eyes back to her appetizing curves. Fortunately, he heard the sound of a familiar pair of heels striking the teal vinyl floor just outside of his room, soon followed by the appearance of his mom in the doorway. Martha dashed across the room, reaching Lewis's bedside to draw him into a tight hug, offering him a dazzling grin that never failed to put him at ease.

"Sorry about the wait, honey. I tried to get the doctor to give the results of the scans, but he was deadset on telling you first," Martha said, dropping into a padded grey and blue seat beside the bed. "I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not."

"I looked over Doctor Carson's shoulder, looks like they're going to have to amputate the leg," Lewis's sister lied drolly, tapping her phone screen as fast as her thumbs would allow, coming to a stop just in front of the bed. "Could've been worse. Hey, it might actually be an improvement."

"Ha-ha, Samantha," Lewis rolled his eyes, backed up when his mother sent a glare towards her daughter. "The only thing in here that needs amputating is that phone from your hands. Did you even spend a single second watching the game?"

"Of course, I even recorded some of it," Samantha turned the screen towards Lewis and held it horizontally, pressing play to show the moment the goalie clattered Lewis. "I think this might just be my new favourite video."

"Turn that off, Sam," Martha ordered, turning to a crestfallen Lewis, stroking his hair as he watched the clip. "It looks bad, anyone can see that. But I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks."

"You wouldn't be wrong," Doctor Carson confidently replied as he strode into the room, squinting to get a better look at the x-ray print, holding it up to the light steaming through the window. "It was close, but I'd have to say that you got off fairly lucky, Mr O'Sullivan."

"Lucky? Meaning I didn't break anything?" Lewis asked hopefully, smiling when his mother gave him an 'I told you so' look.

"It seems that the shin pad absorbed most of the force of the impact," the doctor dipped into the pocket of his white lab coat, fumbling until he could lift out the remains of the protective padding, gently tossing it towards Lewis. "Amazing what a bit of plastic and foam can do."

"Yeah," Lewis swallowed, lifting the pad up, only to watch the shattered pieces crumble from his hand. "So...there's nothing wrong with me?"

"Other than a sprain? No, you got off pretty lightly all things considered," the doctor replied, holding his hand up placatingly when Lewis's face dropped. "Don't worry, it's only minor, a few weeks should set things right."

"Weeks? But the final is in a fortnight, I can't be out for that long," Lewis explained, feeling his hopes of a good scholarship slipping away.

"You should be ready by then, but I wouldn't even think about trying to put in any practice training before then, not unless you want to be shuffling around with a cane by the time you hit middle age," the joked, clearing his throat when it didn't quite land with Lewis or Martha. Doctor Carson walked up to the bedside, giving Lewis's leg a final inspection before making his decision. "Tough crowd. We'll get this leg some extra support before you go. I'll just grab everything we need to get started."

"Doctor, may I have a word?" Martha asked, standing when she received a nod. She followed the doctor out of the room, though Lewis could still see her hanging in the doorway, too far for him to make out their conversation.

"You got lucky, but I bet you're still going to milk your 'ailment' for all it's worth," Samantha smirked, yelping when Lewis reached over and thoroughly ruffled her silky hair until it developed a noticeable frizz. "Hey! This took hours to brush, dumbass!"

"And only seconds to mess up," Lewis chuckled, lifting his hand away when he felt his sister had been sufficiently scolded, finding Maria watching him with a twinkle of amusement in her eyes.

"See? I told you that you had nothing to worry about," Maria whispered, finally dislodging the unit, wheeling it past a distraught Samantha. "Just take the doctor's advice, you'll be running around in no time. I promise."

"Thanks, Maria," Lewis smiled back, closely observing the nurse as she departed, paying particular attention to the hypnotic sway of her rear. "For everything."

"I'm afraid the Doctor Carson's right, honey," Martha smiled consolingly, surreptitiously catching her son's eyes following Maria as she left. "It appears that you're going to find yourself bed-bound for the next few days, then on crutches until that leg is all healed up."

"But that could set me back weeks," Lewis reasoned, aware that the coveted nature of his position meant that any length of absence put his role on the team at risk.

"And putting any amount of pressure on that leg before it's ready could do a lot more damage," Martha dropped a hand onto Lewis's thigh, giving his injured leg the briefest glance. "Which is why you're going to be in a cast until everything's back in order."

"But-"

"Lewis," Martha gave Lewis's thigh a comforting squeeze, acutely aware of the twitch the gesture prompted underneath his hospital gown. "I know how important this game is, and there's nothing in the world I want more than to see you impress every scout that will be in attendance. But first and foremost, I'm your mother, and my priority is making sure that you're fit and healthy. I know this will be an adjustment, but it's just a short one, and I promise to do everything in my power to make sure you're going to be ready in time. Okay?"

"Okay," Lewis slumped back, watching the doctor reappear with all the necessary tools and materials to encase his leg. "But I'm not looking forward to it."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, honey," Martha replied with a vague smirk, moving aside to allow the doctor to do his work. "You'd be amazed at the sort of fun you can get up to when you're laid out flat on your back."

Returning home after the application of the cast proved to be somewhat trickier than what was normal. It took a few dry runs with his new crutches before Lewis built up the courage to hobble out of the hospital and clamber into the back of his mother's sedan. An argument broke out between him and Samantha during his attempt to wrangle his crutches in the backseat, both unintentionally and intentionally whacking his sister with them as he tried to figure out the right angle to position them in.

Getting out of the car proved equally complicated, requiring the aid of his mother and a reluctant Samantha to ease him away from the rear seat and onto the front drive. Though he insisted on retrieving the crutches himself, wanting to get used to them as quickly as he possibly could, Martha grabbed them instead, exasperated by his persistent desire to push himself. The three of them made it back indoors, with Martha refusing to listen to Lewis's protests when she immediately ushered him upstairs the very second the front door clicked shut.

Martha helped him up each step, taking his weight as he hopped on one foot towards the landing. Lewis attempted to apply a bit of pressure on his encased leg, wanting to test the severity of the injury for himself, regretting it immensely when a sharp, acute pain shot through it. Understanding that the extent of his ailment was a touch more significant than he had hoped, Lewis gratefully accepted his mother's outstretched arm and allowed her to assist him in reaching his bedroom.

Making it into his room, Lewis made a beeline for his bed, feeling the events of what became an unnecessarily long day finally catching up to him. A gentle sigh left his lips when he collapsed back onto the sinfully comfortable mattress, sinking his head into his feather-filled pillow. His mom left and quickly returned with a spare cushion, raising Lewis's leg to deposit the cushion beneath it.

"The doctor said you need to keep that leg elevated, it should remind you to not try and move it around too much," Martha reminded him, fluffing the sides of the cushion.

"Great," Lewis sighed, carefully attempting to test out his limited range of movement, frustrated when he found himself unable to reach out for the remote for his tv.

"You don't know how lucky you are," Martha chuckled, walking over to the bedside table to retrieve the remote, handing it to a thankful Lewis. "Almost a week off school, all snuggled up in bed, and a personal servant to ensure that all your needs are met. Most eighteen year olds would deliberately injure themselves to get that sort of treatment."

"I guess," Lewis said, grateful for his mom's stubborn attempts to cheer him up, but his disheartened mood refused to budge. "I just don't like being so...useless."

"Honey, I don't want to hear you saying things like that about yourself," Martha swept up to the bed and took a seat beside Lewis, resting into his side as she hugged him tightly. "It's just a few days in bed and another week and a half of walking with the crutches. After that, you'll be back up and on the field and this little setback will quickly become a distant memory. Can you do that for me? Stick it out for a while?"

"I'll try my best," Lewis's voice became strained, the sensation of his mom's perfect breasts compressing against his chest shamefully caused the blood to rush to his cock. He casually shifted his grey sweatpants, bunching the crotch up to obscure his swelling manhood, unaware that his mom had already caught sight of it.

"I'll tell you what," Martha rolled over and propped her chin up on Lewis's chest, staring soulfully into his eyes. "What if I had a way of keeping your spirits up? Something we would both very much enjoy?"

"What is it?"

"You'll have to wait and see," Martha drummed her fingers against Lewis's chest. "That is, if you're open to it?"

"Yeah," Lewis cleared his throat, fighting a losing battle with his hardening member. "Can you give me a hint about what it is you've got planned?"

"No, I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise," Martha pushed away and stood up, sauntering up to the bedroom door. "I'll be back in a few minutes with some snacks for you, I know you need something in you that isn't a reheated hospital lunch. After that, I'll be off to do some shopping."

"Shopping," Lewis winced as he sat up, switching his tv on. "Could I add a few things to the list?"

"Honey," Martha gazed over her shoulder, aiming an undeniably sultry look his way. "It's not that kind of shopping."

~•~•~•~•~•~

A blazing orange glow expanded across the sky as the sun made its evening descent beyond the horizon of the cityscape, casting harsh shadows across the landscape of the decaying section of the city. It was a place where those unfamiliar with it made certain to avoid, particularly those hailing from the more affluent gated communities in the suburbs. To say it was the sort of place a middle-class mother of two wouldn't typically visit would have been an understatement. Which made it all the more curious when an upmarket Range Rover glided across the webs of cracks in the crumbling tarmac, parking up beneath the one lamp still casting a cone of orange sodium light.

Martha pulled her sedan into a secluded parking lot she found behind a dilapidated storage warehouse, trying not to be too unnerved by the fact that she was its sole occupant. Locking her car and double checking that the alarm was armed, Martha made the long walk across the lot and eventually stepped out onto the surrounding street. Cautiously looking from one side to the other, checking to see whether the path ahead was safe. Rows of boarded up stores lined both sides of the street, each seemingly in a worse state of disrepair than the last, appearing as if they hadn't been occupied well before the turn of the century. A few unsavoury figures could occasionally be spotted loitering beneath the sheltered doorways, but they all appeared to be uninclined to involve themselves in Martha's business. Which suited her perfectly.