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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2005.  Please
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Healing Touch
by Mr. Silk (gryphonquill@hotmail.com)

***

An appendectomy seems to put a damper on New Year's eve 
plans. But really, the party has just begun. (Fdom/M, 
medical, exh, oral, mast)

***

Part I:

The truth of this story is that I did have my appendix 
taken out on New Year's Eve. Just after finalizing 
party plans, I came to the conclusion that the odd 
sensation from my belly was something to take 
seriously. I rushed down to the hospital and got 
diagnosed just in time to have the organ removed before 
it burst within me. 

My friends all called to tell me how they missed me. I 
asked them to have a good party without me, but they 
assured me that it just wouldn't be the same. I counted 
down the minutes to midnight and toasted the new year 
with a couple more CCs of Demurral in my IV. The drugs 
were actually a step up from champagne, which may 
explain my memories of what followed.

When I woke from surgery, I was cold. My mouth was dry. 
I was in a hallway, lying on a gurney beside equally 
doped-up patients. I barely remembered being sedated, 
but it wasn't really bad. I just remember a nurse 
saying, "Mr. Grayson? Mr. Grayson? It's time to wake up 
now." I asked her for a blanket, and after receiving it 
I was wheeled down to my room to recover.

It was while moving from my gurney to my bed that I 
first noticed how difficult it was to move. The area 
they cut into was small, just a few inches in my lower 
abdomen. But it's only when those muscles are injured 
that you come to find how much you use them. I had 
difficulty sitting up. The movement into bed had to be 
accomplished mostly by the strength of my arms. Once 
there, I was basically immobile. Helpless.

For some time I just lay there, my body weary in ways I 
did not know were possible. I drifted in and out of 
consciousness. When my eyes were open, I did little 
more than just stare at three brightly colored cartoon 
fish that hung on the wall opposite. Must have been in 
the children's ward.

Then I was woken by the sound of my door opening. My 
nurse had come to check in on me. "Well, Mr. Grayson. 
How are we feeling?" It took me a moment to answer when 
I saw her.

My nurse did not wear the same shapeless, pastel smocks 
that all the others were wearing. No, the slender vixen 
standing before me wore one of those old-style white 
mini-dresses. It fit her tightly, the buttons straining 
a little at her womanly curves. Were those white 
stockings standard issue? She wore her soft red hair in 
a bun, and pinned to it was one of those old-style 
folded-paper nurse's hats.

"Mr. Grayson?" I had been staring. "I asked you how you 
are feeling." Though her appearance was stunning, her 
tone was all business. From behind her horn-rimmed 
glasses, two steel-blue eyes measured me coldly. The 
smile on her lips was just a crisp formality. I was 
just another set of figures to log into her clipboard.

"Fine. I'm fine. Thank you."

"Well, we'll see about that. Do you feel the urge to 
urinate?"

"I'm sorry?"

"It has been some hours since the operation. We need to 
see if you have any difficulty expelling urine."

"Oh, okay."

The nurse stepped to my bedside and lowered the safety 
bar to let me slide out, but that was not so easy for 
me to do. I pushed myself up to sitting, but I had 
difficulty swinging my legs to the side. 

"Here, let me help you." She reached out her arm to me, 
and I took her firm hand in mine. With a grunt, I 
leaned over the side and fell out of bed, just catching 
myself on my feet. But my legs were unsteady beneath me 
and I would have been on the floor had she not caught 
me.

My chest fell hard against hers, my face against the 
nape of her neck. Nestled there for only a moment, her 
hair brushing my forehead, I inhaled her perfume and 
felt a surge in my veins. Embarrassed, I pulled upright 
as quickly as I could, but my cheek kept the memory of 
how smooth the skin of her neck felt against mine. 

"Are we okay?" she asked. It was always "we." 

"Yes. Sorry. Thank you." But as she helped me towards 
to toilet, I could feel my erection growing beneath my 
hospital gown.

Walking was a chore. My right leg could only lift so 
far, and I found myself hobbling forward, hunched over. 
Without the nurse, I don't think I would have made it 
two steps. After an excruciating effort, I made it to 
the toilet, leaning heavily over it, supporting most of 
my weight against the handicapped rails.

That's when I realized I had a problem. With one arm 
holding myself up, and another to move my gown aside, I 
didn't actually have a hand free to take hold of my 
penis. Lucky for me, my nurse noticed the problem as 
well.

"Here. Let me help you with that." Without waiting for 
so much as a word from me, she took hold of my dick 
between her cool fingertips and aimed me at the toilet. 
Inwardly, I kept pleading with myself. Don't get a 
hard-on. Don't get a hard-on. But it was no use. Just 
the pressure of her fingertips upon me was causing the 
standard biological reaction.

I looked to the nurse. Her expression remained as 
impassive as ever, not even looking at my swelling 
member in her grasp. "Just relax, Mr. Grayson," she 
said.

Relax? Pissing with a hard on is difficult enough! But 
in the hands of a woman... I close my eyes, tried to 
ignore the sensation, and somehow got out a healthy 
stream. "That's good," she said. And as I finished, she 
wiped the head of my dick with a strip of toilet paper, 
and washed her hands.

As I crawled back into bed, I found that my dick was 
not ready to forget the feeling of her touch. I tried 
to arrange the blankets around my bulge to make it a 
little less conspicuous, as the nurse joined me at my 
bedside.

"Now, let's see how things are doing down there." Down 
there?

She slipped her hands under my blankets and began 
probing my abdomen. "You'll feel a slight pressure. Let 
me know if anything hurts." And so she began moving her 
hands along my flesh. Around the curve of my stomach. 
The inside of my hips. My inner thighs. 

I just closed my eyes, because I could feel the effect 
her touch was having. I was ram-rod stiff and pointed 
skyward. Then she grazed my right testicle, and I all 
but jumped.

"Are we all right Mr. Grayson?"

"Yes, fine. Sorry." I opened my eyes, to see the tent I 
had created in the sheets. It did not seem to bother 
her though. She kept her gaze focused at the wall 
opposite her, not having the slightest care for what 
her hands were doing or the effect they were having on 
me. 

It did not help that, as she leaned over, I could see 
the scalloped edge of her pink lace bra.

Then I began to notice her touch softening. Instead of 
short jabs, her fingers began to move with firm 
strokes. Then slow circles. I found my breath coming 
more steadily, deeply. And as her touch trailed down to 
the area above my anus, below my balls, I could not 
suppress a low groan. She began to draw a tight circle 
against it with the fingers of her left hand. Her right 
hand slid down from my navel, and as she grasped my 
cock, I was too flushed to even register the surprise.

Her expression did not change, nor did her eyes move 
towards me as she pushed my blankets aside, exposing me 
fully. I watched in wonder as he expert hands began 
jerking me in earnest. With her left she cupped my 
balls, massaging them so gently. With her right, she 
stroked. Up and down my whole shaft. Sometimes 
squeezing me into her fist. Sometimes with her 
fingertips only.

I looked to the door, certain that at any moment 
someone would come in. Family. Friend. Girlfriend. But 
as her pace quickened I could not think of any of that. 
I took hold of the guard rails at my sides, squeezing 
them tightly. I wanted to buck my hips up to meet her 
strokes, but in my weakened state, all I could do was 
lay there, unable to make her stop or go. Helpless to 
her tender ministrations.

Everything tightened. My toes curled. My lips drew back 
to a sneer. She could tell how close I was with medical 
precision. Just before I erupted, she lowered her mouth 
over me, taking the head of my cock in her lips though 
her eyes still looked away. Feverishly tugging the skin 
of my penis over the flesh, she drew out wave after 
wave of cum. It was too much for me to even care if 
anyone down the hall could hear me. 

She swallowed every drop, leaving only a smear of pink 
lipstick upon the head of my dick as evidence. As I 
tried to catch my breath, my nurse tucked me in once 
more. I was swimming in euphoria... and painkillers. I 
began to pass out under the weight of the pleasure she 
had delivered me. 

But as I drifted away, I heard her say as she left my 
room, "I'll be in to check on you tonight, Mr. Grayson. 
Rest well."


Part II:

I guess it isn't surprising that my dreams were what 
they were that night. Red, red lips. Breasts heaving 
against the strain of a white cotton uniform. And cool, 
confident fingers dancing along my skin. My swollen 
penis felt 10 feet long as waves of remembered pleasure 
echoed through my flesh. The medication put me under 
too deep for any coherency though. Instead of a single, 
coherent story, my dream gave me a wild, disjointed sea 
of sensation.

It was fortunate that my nurse had drained me so 
expertly. Otherwise I would have woken in a puddle of 
semen that I would have had trouble cleaning up.

What finally woke me was the ring of the telephone at 
my bedside. I looked around, confused, suddenly cold 
without the warmth of my nurse's dream caresses. It 
took me a moment to remember where I was, and what a 
person does with a ringing phone.

"Hey, sweetie. How are you feeling?" It was my 
girlfriend, Stephanie.

"Bit groggy. They got me really doped up."

She laughed softly. "Yeah, I'm feeling pretty rough 
too. The party got pretty wild."

"Mmmmm. Sorry I missed it."

"Me too, baby. It would have been so nice to have you 
there. Especially after midnight."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Uh, huh." I could hear her smiling through her 
hangover. "Because, you know, you have to kiss somebody 
at midnight, and you weren't there..."

"Who was the lucky guy?"

"I think a couple of guys were lucky. I mean, they 
seemed to like what they saw. Kissing Sheila got a big 
reaction out of them."

It hurt a little bit to laugh. "I can imagine. I know I 
would have liked to see it."

"I know. I was thinking how much you would have enjoyed 
it. I know I did. In fact... Well, it was so nice, that 
one kiss just wasn't enough."

My dream-hardened dick had barely begun to soften 
before it stiffened once more at the sound of sex in 
Stephanie's voice.

"Go on," I said.

"Well, once we started to kiss, we just couldn’t 
stop..." I slid my hand down to the thickening mass of 
my penis. "I was kind of trashed by then, and all I 
could think about was how soft her mouth was..." My 
fingers encircled the base of my cock. "And her leaps 
were just so sweet – some kind of lip gloss she was 
wearing. It was like cherry Coke..." I started 
squeezing and tugging with just the tips of my fingers.

Stephanie continued. "And then, well, I don’t know. We 
just sort of did what came naturally."

"And what," I asked with a hungry growl in my voice, 
"Came naturally?"

"You know..."

"Tell me."

"You’re really liking this aren’t you?"

"Uh huh."
"You’re touching yourself aren’t you?"

"Mmmaybe..."

"Stroking that hard, thick cock that I love?"

"Yesss..."

"You want to hear more?"

"Don’t make me beg for it."

"I said, do you want to hear more?" Her hangover was 
giving her no difficulty in toying with me.

"Please."

"Please, what?"

"Please tell me more."

"More what? What would you like to hear about?"

"About Sheila."

"What about her?"

I groaned. "Please tell me more about how you made out 
with Sheila."

"Oh, I didn’t make out with Sheila." I stopped mid-
stroke. "I fucked her." A tremble shot through my body. 
I could feel the base of my cock clench in my grasp. A 
small drop of precum formed at the head and started to 
slide down the shaft.

Then, in the background, I heard a sound I dreaded. It 
was Stephanie’s mother. And the word she called out was 
"dinner!" 

"Oh, I’m sorry, Baby. I have to go..."

"God damn it!"

"Now, now. You be a good boy and tomorrow, I’ll come 
visit you and tell you all about it. And if you are a 
very, very, very good boy..."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe we can arrange a repeat performance." And she 
was gone, leaving me with my raging hard on, and 
fertile imagination.

It wasn’t too hard for me to continue the scene where 
she left off. Stephanie -- tall, with short dark hair 
and glasses, wearing a pair of ass-hugging slacks and a 
tight button-down shirt that threatened to burst at her 
C-cup breasts. Sheila – shorter, thicker, voluptuous, 
her long red hair trailing down her double-D curves, 
flimsy t-shirt revealing the outline of her bra, and 
low-slung corduroys revealing her lack of panties.

In my mind, their hands crawl hungrily along each 
other’s bodies – pushing aside this article of 
clothing, tugging at that one. Their movements are 
ruled by passion, not design. They clumsily undress 
each other in the sheer lust for skin. To grope, to 
stroke, caress...

And as our friends stood around them, drinks in hand, 
erections saluting, the two work their way to their 
knees. Sheila, more aggressive, pushes Stephanie down, 
opening her shirt to feast on neck. Stephanie braces 
herself against the assault by taking tight hold of 
Sheila’s ass, and kneading those two luscious mounds.

By this point, from a technical standpoint, I was in 
full-on jerk. It then occurred to me, for just a 
moment, that I was also in a hospital. The door could 
not be locked, and even if it could, I would have a 
hard time walking to it. The bathroom had similar 
problems. 

I resolved finally to just turn off the lights, which 
worked from a switch at my bedside. Darkness would have 
to meet all my privacy needs. That done, I pulled aside 
the blanket since I couldn’t change the sheets after 
cumming in them. Besides, I like the feel of exposing 
my cock to open air.

I closed my eyes, and let the girls continue. Stephanie 
wriggles underneath Sheila until her mouth is poised 
underneath Sheila’s breasts. She begins kissing and 
nibbling them with wild abandon. Sheila moves her hand 
down between Stephanie’s legs, finding heat and 
moisture already beginning to seep through. This drives 
Stephanie on, and she begins to tear Sheila free from 
shirt and bra, until Sheila arches her back and flings 
both from her in a single moment. Stephanie latches on 
to the now free nipples and suckles greedily, drawing 
out moans and gasps from Sheila.

It was then that I heard a small sound. It was very 
tiny, but enough for me to open my eyes in fear, ready 
to conceal my naked cock. A small clicking sound.

And then I saw her. She had crept in without turning on 
the lights, shutting the door behind her silently. In 
the dim light of the night sky, I saw her leaning 
against the wall in front of me.

The Nurse had been watching me. I couldn’t guess for 
how long, but long enough for her to tug open the 
buttons of her white uniform, revealing her pale and 
sculpted body. And she was touching herself too.

With her left hand she squeezed her breast through the 
lace bra. Her stocking-clad legs were spread, giving 
her other hand access to a pussy shaved with clinical 
precision. It was bare and clean enough to perform 
surgery with, and her fingers explored its velvety 
depths. 

I could not make out the expression on her face, but 
when she spoke, she betrayed no passion. "Don’t stop." 
Her command was flat and unwavering.

I realized I had. I had even begun to go limp with my 
initial fear. But as the shock began to pass, I found 
myself springing to life once more. 

I stroked carefully, slowly, still half-stunned by 
disbelief.

"Now cup your balls." I did. "Play with them." Though 
she fought it, I could hear her breathing become 
heavier.

As my eyes adjusted, I saw the way she watched me. She 
never looked at my eyes. I was only a penis to her. Her 
jaw was clenched, holding back sighs, moans. 
Occasionally, a wave of lust would pass over her face, 
but she fought it back, keeping her eyes cold and 
steely. Only once I saw her lick her lips.

But from where I lay I could begin to smell her. I 
could hear her as well, and I realized that the sound 
that had alerted me was the soft squishing of fingers 
into her dripping wet pussy. 

Her legs were so luscious, with the white fishnets 
caressing their contours. I watched as they began to 
tremble and buckle slightly. She pinched her nipple, 
and it looked as though the strain of self-control was 
getting to her. She rose from the wall, and took a step 
toward me.

Without a word to me, without taking her eyes from my 
cock, she came to my bedside, and lowered the 
guardrail. I did not dare stop my jerking, but when she 
stood beside me, she moved my hand.

"Are we ready to cum yet?"

I could not find any words. All I could utter was a 
hesitant mumble.

"No? Good." She raised one knee up onto the bed, and 
threw the other leg over. At once, she was straddling 
me.

She turned her eyes neither to me, nor my cock, nor her 
hands as they took hold of me and guided me into the 
heat of her well-lubricated pussy.

I began to let out long, low moan, but she silenced me 
with a finger on my lips. Then, adjusting her stance, 
she raised her body up slowly, and then lowered down 
upon me once more. Then again, so slow that I could 
feel every contour of her inner walls. 

Her pace grew slowly. Her breasts swayed before me, 
still in her bra, but as I reached for them, she pushed 
my hand away. So I lay they, just watching their 
movements, letting her fuck me. 

Her eyes never left the wall above my head as she 
fucked me with steadily building speed. I had to reach 
up and press against the headboard, as she pounded 
herself into me with increasing force. 

Finally she was fucking me with a fury, and I looked up 
to see that all the masks of clinical disinterested had 
burned away in her passion. Her lips were open, her 
eyes were shut. And from her mouth came heaving sighs 
and a quiet, wailing moan.

It was too much, and without warning I shot off into 
her pulsating pussy, but she did not care. She was not 
done with me, and she would continue to fuck me until 
she had her fill. She continued to pound me. The 
sensation was intense and terrible and amazing. I could 
not hold back a strangled, high-pitched yelp. My body 
convulsed underneath her. My hands moved to push her 
away, but she would not have it. The more I struggled, 
the harder she fucked me, and the more intense the 
pleasure-pain. 

And then, I felt it. Her pussy squeezed me suddenly so 
tight. It was like her cunt was trying to choke my 
cock, and I was squeezed right out of her.

The Nurse took a moment to catch her breath. She held 
herself above me, breathing heavily. I lay under her, 
limp like a wet towel.

It seemed like forever before she lowered herself from 
my bed once more. I saw the bathroom light come on, 
heard water running. More uncertain time passed. When 
she returned, her uniform was once more perfect and 
neat. All stray hairs were bound to her bun once more.

In her hand she held a wet sponge. She swabbed at the 
pools of sweat on my chest and belly and finally the 
sheen of boy and girl cum upon my cock. I twitched 
weakly when she touched me.

Without drying me, she placed the covers over me once 
more. She returned the sponge to the bathroom, and left 
the room. As she left, I realized that I knew what it 
meant to be "rode hard and put away wet."

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 33