Naughty Night Nurses

by Arilyn Abbott

  She slammed down harder and faster. And harder and faster.

  She couldn't imagine her life with a billionaire. This was probably all he wanted anyway. A fling with a nurse. A hot nurse, she thought, riding him hard and naked, looking at her hot little nurse body, rocking hard on his cock, banging the fuck out of that big hard cock. A conquest. A conquest by this Spanish conquistador. She was okay with that. She was okay with that. She was...

  Cumming. Cumming. Fuuuck. Fuuuuuck.

  DONG! DONG! DONG!

  FUCK!

  The nurse call light. The fucking call light. Victor! Victor was holding the button. Fuck! She slapped him hard on the chest and fell off the bed and scrambled across the room to the cancel button. Fuck. Seriously? Fuck!

  She pulled her clothes on as fast as she could, gave him a “what the fuck” look, to which he smirked and shrugged and -- ugh -- she got the fuck out of that room.

  CHAPTER 3 – AMBULANCE CHASER

  A lex, the x-ray tech with the shaggy blond surfer hair, led Vanessa down the hall deeper into the dungeon that was the radiology department. The ER nurse hadn't been back here before.

  "It's dark back here," she said.

  "X-ray techs do our best work in the dark," Alex said. "We can also see through your clothes."

  "Ha ha, I guess that's true."

  "There's like a list of those things on a TV shirt," he said. "Shit about knowing the right positions and knowing the right technique, too, shit that only actually makes sense when you're sitting in a classroom talking about it."

  "We have those kinds of things too," Vanessa said. "Cute enough to stop your heart, skilled enough to restart it."

  "Ohh nice," he said, unlocking the door to the room marked MRI.

  "And nurses don't have a gag reflex," she followed him into the room.

  He closed the door behind them. It was even darker in here. There was a wall of computer monitors and a big window into another room with a huge donut-shaped machine. A soft blue glow spotlighted the machine. A low, powerful hum filled resonated through the whole place.

  "No gag reflex?" he asked. "What's that have to do with being a nurse?"

  "Maybe that's just me."

  "This is good to know."

  "You won't get to find out. I'm a married woman."

  She kept telling herself she would not have sex at work, but he looked so good. And so young. And so good. But it was true. She was married. Getting caught was her biggest fear. Her job was at stake. Her marriage and children were at stake. It was hard enough keeping her affair with ER Dr. Dean a secret. She couldn't juggle more than one forbidden lover. She certainly couldn't do it at work.

  But all that was too much to reveal to the x-ray tech with the solid body and, from what she could tell, the huge cock. All he got was the married woman line. She was willing to play this out for a little while, to see where he tried to take it.

  "We'll see," he said, the confident prick. He might find out. "Have you seen an MRI before?"

  "Never, but it's like a cat scan isn't it?"

  "It is. There are a few differences." He unlocked and opened a heavy metal door. He took her stethoscope from around her neck and laid it on the desk beside the door. He pulled her close to him, and put his hands in her pockets. He took her trauma shears out of her pocket and laid them on the desk too. Hemostats, pen light, keys, he put on the desk. He took off her watch. He rubbed her body down. "For one thing, it doesn't use radiation like x-rays and cat scans do."

  He slid his hand up the back of her scrub top and rubbed her back. He slid his hand along the strap of her bra.

  She was embarrassed that she couldn't see where this whole thing was going, but she knew what he was doing right now. She helped him by reaching under the front of her shirt and unclasping her bra. It was a frontloader. She pulled it off and dropped it to the desk with the rest of her possessions.

  "What now, boss?" she asked.

  He took her hands and led her through the door and slowly toward the machine. Just inside the door, the key hanging from the lanyard around her neck began to rise. The closer they got to the machine, the more it rose, and Alex stood between her and the machine. The key grazed up his belly to his chest, pointing straight at his heart. This seemed dangerous.

  "The other big difference is it's a giant magnet," he said. "How could you not know that?"

  He pulled the lanyard off her neck and took it back to the desk, then returned to her.

  "I've never had to come in here," she says. "So this thing is turned on now?"

  "It's always turned on."

  He led her slowly toward the machine. She felt the magnet pulling gently on her nipples. Her nipple rings were metal. Fuck. She stopped. It felt kind of good, but getting them ripped out probably wouldn't feel good.

  He noticed that she stopped and the mischievous look on his face showed her that he knew exactly what he was doing.

  "So you know?" she asked.

  He nodded. "How long?"

  "About five years," she said.

  "It's fine, then," he said. "Tell me if gets uncomfortable."

  He led her closer. It was a gentle tug on her tits. Pleasant, not uncomfortable. Scary, but he acted like he knew what he was doing. The danger was arousing. When they were standing beside the machine, she was suddenly aware of another area that was feeling a tug, a slight warming between her thighs. He probably didn't know about that one. She hoped it would be okay. It certainly felt okay right now. She'd tell him if it got uncomfortable. That was their deal. But still...

  "There's one piercing you probably don't know about..." she admitted.

  Alex smiled and laid her down on the MRI table.

  ~~~

  Anna headed back to the med-surg nurses' station quite a bit disheveled from her encounter with the Victor Francisco.

  She felt empowered. There was some shame mixed in there too, of course, because she had just broken one of the cardinal rules of nursing, which is not to suck off your patients, and more to the point, because she just wasn't that kind of person. She wasn't that kind of girl. She never had been. She'd been an awkward kid, blossomed into an awkward teenager, fell in with a slacker crowd, and asked a cute boy in the crowd to the homecoming dance. They'd been together ever since.

  Until tonight. She hoped she'd made the right decision. It was scary. But it was empowering. Fucking a Spanish billionaire? Also empowering. Anna felt sexy for the first time in years. Maybe ever.

  And there at the nurses' station was yet another tall, handsome stranger.

  "I'm writing her a prescription for hydrocodone," the tall, handsome, dark-haired stranger told Ruby, the new med-surg nurse, who nodded along as he talked. "So she'll have that at home. I don't want her to be in pain, but make it clear to her that she should only take it when she absolutely needs it."

  He had an accent. Was it Irish? This tall, handsome, dark-haired, Irish stranger must be the new hospitalist that Vanessa from ER was telling her about. He talked fast. He was writing and flipping through the patient's chart the whole time he spoke. He made it sound like he had done this before.

  The last hospitalist, Dr. Rudeaux had been a disorganized mess. He had been a New Yorker who wore trendy jeans and wrinkled, dirty t-shirts with vulgar slogans on them. He was a good doctor, but his whole doesn't-give-a-shit demeanor didn't convey the professionalism that the hospital and patients expected in a hospital doctor. When the chief physician bought in seven sets of hospital scrubs and presented them to Dr. Rudeaux, the hospitalist had gone downstairs to change clothes and never came back.

  This new guy was well-dressed, though. Like GQ magazine well-dressed. Anna was lost in her analysis when she became aware that the doctor had stopped talking and turned toward her. His glasses were at the tip of his nose. He was looking over the top of them. His eyes were green.

  "You." Pretty green eyes. His voice was stern. "You are Anna?"

  Anna nodded. "Yes, sir."

  He finished filling ou
t some discharge paperwork and handed it to Ruby, and Ruby scuttled off.

  "Where have you been?" he demanded. "I need to know about my patients and I don't have time to chase nurses around."

  "Yes, sir." Anna said. What the fuck. Her cheeks were flushed. She couldn't tell if it was because of the felony she had just committed on a matador's dick or the rage that was swelling in her about being talked to like a child.

  She wasn't going to put up with that kind of bullshit for long, but she was willing to give this guy a chance. Doctors who seem to truly care about doing what is right for their patients are few and far between and maybe this guy was one of them.

  It occurred to her that she had just been assuming he was the new hospitalist. She was still fired up with all that empowerment that she'd generated earlier, so she made another risky move.

  "My patients are my patients, and I take care of my patients," she started. "I am willing to share them with a doctor, if the doctor is a good one. And I don't know who you are."

  This guy, who she of course knew was the hospitalist, took his glasses off and folded them and slid them into the pocket at the front of his lab coat. He sized her up silently for what seemed like forever, but was probably no more than a couple seconds. Finally, he smiled and stood up.

  "I'm Patrick McDaniel, the new hospitalist," he said and picked up a patient chart. "Let's go visit Ms. Genetti and see if we can all earn each other's trust."

  ~~~

  In the elevator, Ruby looked at the patient on the gurney and then at the two scrawny paramedics on the other side of it. She wondered how those two little paramedics were going to lift this not-so-little lady into the ambulance. Ruby was little, but mighty, she thought. They'd probably need her help. She asked if they would need her help, probably.

  If there was one thing Ruby was good at, it was asking questions.

  "Have you had a busy night?" she had asked.

  "Do you like your job?" she had asked.

  Are there always two of you? Does the same person drive the ambulance all the time or do you trade? Do you get to ignore red lights? Do you use your lights even when you don't have an emergency? What if you're just hungry and you want to get to the restaurant faster? Do you ever race cops? Are you like doctors or nurses?

  Men seemed happy to answer all of her questions, but women usually got short and snippy with her. She couldn't help that she was curious. She just liked talking to people and learning things.

  "Those are pretty flowers," she said to her patient. "What kind of flowers are those? Who sent you flowers? Was it your family? Do you like flowers? What is your favorite flower?"

  Her poor patient had fallen asleep while she was asking questions. She probably needed rest. Ruby wondered how much rest patients needed after they break a hip and get it fixed. It was probably a lot. She had asked Dr. McDaniel a lot of questions but she hadn't thought of that one earlier. She would ask him when she got back upstairs.

  There were two ambulances outside, and the back of one was open and a paramedic was sitting on the edge of it. Ruby asked if that was where they were going. It wasn't. They were going to the other one. She wondered if the other guy could help them lift the patient in. She ran over to him.

  "Hey!" she said, "Wow, you're really hot! Hey, we're going to put this patient in that other ambulance. Can you come help us? You look really strong."

  "Of course I can," he laughed, "You're a little ball of fire aren't you?"

  "What's that mean?" she asked, grabbing his hand and pulling him up to come help, "Did you call me a little ball of fire because I have red hair?"

  "Yep," he said.

  They lifted the patient's gurney easily into the ambulance. It turned out you just set the end of it on the back of the ambulance and raise up the gurney wheels. It just slides right in.

  "Do you have a partner?" Ruby asked the lone paramedic when they were done, "Paramedics always travel with a partner, don't they?"

  "I have a partner," he said, "He's inside filling out paperwork. Want to see the inside of my rig?"

  He helped her into the back of the ambulance and showed her where the immobilizers were, the bandages, meds, the defibrillator, every nook and cranny packed with lifesaving equipment, supplies, spare scrubs, oxygen tanks, saline syringes, restraint devices.. She had questions about everything in every nook and cranny.

  When they finished the quick tour and sat on what the paramedic had taught her was called a "long bench", she leaned into him and realized there was at least one question she hadn't asked yet.

  "What's your name?" she asked and then saw his name tag. She grabbed it. "Joe! Hi, Joe."

  "Oh my goodness," Joe said.

  "Oh my goodness, Joe," Ruby said. She grabbed his forearm and slapped it. "You have a tattoo! Fire. Rescue. Are you a fireman? Are you in the sexy fireman calendar?"

  "I'm Mr. July," he said. "Are you in the hyper nurse calendar?"

  Ruby rubbed Joe's bald head and asked if she could lick it.

  "Oh my god," he said.

  "I bet you have a really big dick, Mr. July. Can I lick it too?"

  Mr. July closed the ambulance's back doors.

  ~~~

  When he turned back around, she was already there, her body against his. Before he could even know what was happening, Ruby had already pulled his shirt off. She had to. She had to find out what was under there. She was glad she did. He was definitely fireman calendar material.

  Her hands were all over his torso. His hard, thick shoulders. His hard, thick chest. His hard, thick abs. His hard, thick oblique fuck muscles.

  She pushed away from him and fell back onto the gurney and clutched her chest, "Oh no, mister paramedic, I'm having an emergency."

  "Where does it hurt?" he asked his hand on her ankle, "does it hurt here?"

  "Higher," she said.

  He slid his hand up her calf, slowly moving up her leg.

  "Here?" he asked.

  "Higher."

  His hand caressed the inside of her knee, and then slid up her inner thigh.

  "Here?"

  "Higher."

  He brushed his hand gently and lightly across the mound between her thighs and slid it under her scrub top, where it rested on her belly.

  "Here?" he was enjoying this.

  She squirmed. She was enjoying this too. He knew what he was doing.

  She sat up to kiss him, and before she even got all the way up, he put his hand on her chest and pushed her back to the gurney.

  He let his hand on her chest holding her down firmly, and leaned in and kissed her hard on the mouth, and cheek, and neck, and when he got to her ear, he breathed into it, "Do I need to restrain you?"

  "You sure fucking do," she barely could get the words out.

  He used padded velcro straps to secure her wrists to the gurney, then her ankles. He was slow about it, gentle but forceful. She felt just safe enough.

  "You're bad."

  "Am I?" he smiled. "Sometimes I have to cut a patient's clothes off."

  "Do it," she said.

  "Cut your clothes off?"

  "I stole these scrubs from surgery. Cut them off."

  He took the trauma shears from the cargo pocket of his utility pants and ran them down her chest in a lazy, serpentine pattern. She bit her lip. She was looking forward to this.

  He ran the scissors back down her leg to her ankle. She'd already said it didn't hurt there!

  But there he was, cutting smooth and quick right up the inner seam of her pants. Too quick. She squirmed as the scissors came close to the base of her thigh, stopping just in time.

  Then he went back and did the same thing to the other leg, the edge of the cold blade occasionally grazing against her skin. She gasped when the blade came even closer this time to the sensitive area at the top. But again, he stopped just in time, and there she was, lying bound to a gurney in the back of an ambulance, with her pants cut open, her legs laid bare.

  He laid the trauma shears on her be
lly, and slid his hands up both legs from her ankles to where the cut stopped, feeling how tight and smooth her legs were. She was glad she had waxed them this afternoon before work. She knew they felt good. He felt good too. His hands were as strong as the rest of his body. His touch felt powerful. She knew she was helpless against him.

  He picked up the scissors from her belly with one hand, and with other hand, grabbed the final bit of fabric holding her pants together at her pussy, and cut across it. Then he cut up to the waistband. She raised he ass up off the gurney so he could pull the pants off of her entirely. All that was between them now was her cute little black lace thong. She wondered if he liked it.

  And then he cut it off.

  "Hey, asshole!" she said, "Those were mine!"

  He smiled. "Shut up."

  "Okay," she said, completely exposed from the waist down.

  His hands slid up under her shirt, under her bra, and pushed them both up over head, to her forearms, where they came to rest, trapped by the restraints binding her arms to the gurney.

  Mr. July opened a drawer and pulled out a handful of stickers. She had put these on patients before but never had them put on her. He was going to monitor her heart.

  "Are you going to make my heart rate irregular?" she asked him. "Are you going to make me tachycardic?" she asked him.

  "I'm going to make you go into V-tach," he said. He put the stickers on her one by one. One on each arm. One on each leg. A row of them on her ribs below her left breast.

  "Ventricular tachycardia."

  "Mm hmm," he said. He clipped a wire to a little metal nub on each of the stickers.

  "Don't shock me."

  "I'm not going to shock you."

  "Promise you won't shock me," she said.

  "Shut up," he told her.

  "Okay," she said. Her heart rate was already 70 beats per minutes. About 60 was normal for her. She had a lot of energy. People thought she would have a fast heart rate like a hummingbird or something. But she was small and athletic so her heart was efficient and didn’t have to beat very fast. Her heart rate was a regular sinus rhythm. Beep. Beep. Beep.

  His mouth touched her inner thigh. She opened her legs for him as much as she could with her ankles bound to the bed. His kisses were hot. He was hot. She wondered what his smooth bald head would feel like against her pussy.