Extra Effort
I had become a physician out of a desire to help. A classic sentiment. Even
though my schooling had perpared me for some ordeals i would encounter, nothing
had truly perpared me for the long, over worked hours involved in hostpitle work.
The ICU was exceptionally busy. Three admissions in four hours. Two deaths.
Everyone hassled and racing to get all the work done. As the only physician I
was not just writing orders and examining each patient but trying to help the
three nurses with their chores. Mary was an old friend whom I had helped
through three long and painful relationships with young residents. Soon she got
through her shift and had to head home to her young son. Carol was a gorgeous
brunette and had crushed the hearts of many of the young residents who thought
they were God's gift to her, only to find she could play them perfectly until she
dropped them. Shara would have stayed all night, but she had a hot date and left
at the end of her shift. The crisis was that the two night nurses due on at 11
pm had both called in sick, and there were no easy replacements.
Thank goodness Emma was willing to stay over and work a double shift. I
had only met her a few days before as she joined the staff after getting her MSN
at USC working at LA County and doing her internship at Jackson Memorial in
Miami. From a few days observation she seemed about the most knowledgeable nurse
in the unit, challenging many of the residents about fundamental physiology and
pharmacology. She was very dedicated to each patient, providing a soothing word,
positioning them for comfort, and also making each family feel they were the
special ones. And, she would work a double shift and save my life, and my
patients' lives, that memorable night.
Thank goodness things got quiet. Shara and Mary had gotten us caught up before
leaving and with no admissions for a few hours we had gotten everyone stabilized.
Emma was so kind she was even trying to help with my trauma of breaking up
with my longterm love, who chose a top faculty position in Seattle over staying
with me. For months I had been hurting, lonely, abstinent, and hoping she'd
change her mind but now getting fewer and fewer calls. Emma was very caring
and just drew out some of the facts and the pain from me while we were working
side by side. I had never talked openly like this before.
All was well until 0327 when Mr. G had a cardiac arrest. He was 83 years old and
his family never came to see him, but we had tried to get him over his heart
attack, but he was failing and had been in a coma. Emma and I decided to
give him the full court press as he had insisted he wanted to walk out of the
hospital no matter what interventions we used. I started the closed chest
massage while Emma gave the epinephrine and got the tube ready. Then I put
in the endotracheal tube and got him on the ventilator while Emma kneeled
on the bed and did the cardiac massage. She did it just right with her shoulders
over his midsternum, applying enough force to move the sternum inward about two
inches on each stroke. That is really hard work and as I was reading his ECG and
listening to his chest, Emma worked harder and harder. I noticed that her
knees were getting farther apart on the board we had put under Mr. J and that her
white uniform skirt, and the beautiful lace slip under it, were working their way
up her thighs.
I hadn't thought much about Emma as a young lady before, but even in the
midst of this arrest I realized my colleague was gorgeous, with long slim legs,
brilliant green eyes, a radiant smile, and a perfect nose. Soon, no matter how
hard I worked with drugs and defibrillator to get back Mr. G, I also noticed that
Emma's skirt had worked above the tops of her white stockings and their
garter belt attachments and that there were hints that she wasn't wearing the
usual nurse thick white panties. In fact, I began to see a brilliant red bush.
I was awestruck. I'd never seen a nurse's sex displayed on duty, although I knew
that many did not wear underwear under their scrubsuits in the OR. Well, we had
done about everything for Mr. G and he wasn't going to make it. Probably his left
ventricle had ruptured and filled his pericardium with blood and there is no way
to fix that. In any event, seventeen minutes of resuscitation at his age on top
of his coma had done in his brain. I thought about prolonging it a little longer
just to see more of that intriguing red vision that riveted my vision when I
could look away from the ECG, but that wouldn't be fair and Emma was
getting tired. So we stopped. In getting down from the bed, Emma pulled
her skirt up a little higher so I could confirm from the front what I had only
seen from behind. Then she smiled, pulled down her skirt, came a little closer,
complimented me on my management of the arrest, and said she'd like to talk about
cardiac arrest after we got through our double shift for her and quadruple for
me.
It took us several hours to clean up Mr. G and get his family in. They were so
uncaring they wouldn't come to the hospital when I told them he had taken a turn
for the worst. So I had to insist on them coming by telling them I didn't think
he would make it to morning. His son and daughter-in-law showed up, grumpy about
being awakened. When I told them Mr. G was dead they didn't ask a thing about
him but attacked me for waking them up when it didn't matter and, they said, they
could call the undertaker from home. They were about to hit me when Emma
arrived with a tray of hot coffee and her usual kind words calmed them down a
little, and probably kept me from getting in trouble, as it isn't good form to
hit a family member. I kept trying to remember that it was their problem, not
mine, and I was the doctor supposed to help. Oh well.
Thank goodness everything else went well, we got everything in order, and when we
signed off to the crew coming on at 0700 the ICU was in good shape, even if
Emma and I were tired and a little tattered around the edges. Her gorgeous
red hair, usually curled up under her cap, she let down to her waist and it
looked silky and very fine. I was headed to home to lick my wounds and get some
sleep, when she caught up with me and said that it had been such a good night
that she had really enjoyed working with me and wondered if I'd join her for
breakfast.
Well, like most ICU staff, our breakfast was several cups of coffee, but her
apartment was spectacular. It seems she was an expert on Scandinavian
handcrafts and she explained that she came from Uppsala and had been an art
student before going into nursing. Now she was applying to medical school and
her MSAT exam scores were incredible-equal to my own of which I was very proud.
She sat across the coffee table in a matching sofa and began leaning back. Her
knees parted more and more and as she inched forward to sit right at the edge of
the sofa, her white skirt and lacy slip rose far above her stockings and I saw
again that bright red bush and even some details within. She smiled when she
noticed where I was looking, but I was embarrassed. She said my blush was sweet
and showed how sensitive I was. I just said that it had been a long time since
anyone had cared. We talked about my pain and the long separation as she
squinched forward even more on the sofa.
She understood the pressures arising from my abstinence and shared with me that
she too was very lonely. She said that she had been married and had only had a
few brief affairs before a long marriage that was very painful. She said that he
had forced her to have very painful anal intercourse, never stimulated her to
orgasm, and that when she finally divorced him she had had several unsatisfactory
affairs with women who, though gentle, had not really fulfilled her. For three
years she had buried herself in her work and had no relationships at all. At
this point she put both stocking feet on the coffee table and leaned back.
I was about to burst. Ever since we had been resuscitating Mr. G I had been
pretty excited and semierect. Since coming to her apartment I had been holding
things in front of my pants and bending over a lot to avoid showing what a large
bulge I had. Sitting on the sofa was a little easier to try to hide it, but it
was really stretching my pants and making me wonder if I would have a wet dream
while awake.
She smiled invitingly and seemed to purr. Well, I didn't want to be forward, but
I couldn't stand it. I slipped off the sofa and on all fours crawled over to her
side of the coffee table and began licking behind her left knee. She didn't pull
away, but instead leaned further back and made it easier to get to her knee, then
up her left thigh while my left hand massaged her right leg. Soon my head was
inside her thighs as I kissed and gently licked first left then switched over to
the right. She slipped down further, put her hand gently on my head, and urged
me forward.
It didn't take any urging, as I was eager to explore. I had seen a few patients
with a hint of dull red pubic hair, but never in a girlfriend and I'd never seen
such a brilliant red bush. Soon my nose was just touching the hairs and I
realized how very fine and soft they were with a wonderful sweet, tangy, musty
odor that was overwhelming. I could see her inner lips pink, pouting, thin,
sensuous, and closed with a wavy border projecting beyond her pubes. The tip of
my tongue soon explored the lower limits of her lips and I ran the tip up and
down their edges without parting them. Then, just a little inside, and the taste
was delicious. A mirror of the odor. Pert, musky, sweet, and just wonderful.
Emma was moaning, her legs fell further apart, and her hand on my head
urged me onward.
Soon I was bold enough to run the tip of my tongue around her vagina. Just
pushing on the edge. Then I worked up to the base of her clitoris. It just
peeked out from the lips with a pink tip. I tongued the base on the left first,
then over to the right. Then I tried circling the base. Her clitoris began to
twitch, her hand was pressing a little firmer, and her moans indicated I wasn't
off base. Soon I ran the tip of my tongue from the base up to the tip and then
flicked over the tip from left to right, right to left. Her fingers tightened in
my long blonde hair and she started rhythmically pulling me to her.
As my lips circled her clitoris and I started sucking deeply, while flicking the
tip with the tip of my tongue, I eased my right hand up her left thigh and found
her gorgeous buttocks. They were small, tight, quivering, and soon I could get
down the crack to her anus. My index fingers just found it and started to gently
circle it on the outside in time with my sucking of her clitoris.
For variety, every few minutes, I'd let my tongue slip up and down inside her
labia and insert it all the way in her vagina. My tongue, as well as other
parts, is long, but it could only get in a couple of inches but enough to expand
the opening that was very tight and make her squirm. But she seemed to prefer my
sucking her clitoris and so I returned to that. She also was moving her bottom
and her anus was contracting in time with my finger just pressing around the edge
and slipping just slightly inside.
She was getting very wet and I was waiting for that subtle change in flavor as
her special glands secreted their fluid around the base of her clitoris. That
was the signal that she was about to orgasm and I wanted to see if she could get
up to a true plateau and hold that orgasmic and preorgasmic sensation for a half
hour or more. I alternated sucking hard and deep and pressing firmly with my
tongue on the tip of her clitoris with backing off and blowing down the clitoral
shaft, gently massaging her anus, and reaching up with my left hand to feel her
breast.
She had already opened her white blouse and undone the front fastening on her bra
so it was easy to feel her firm breast and its tiny put very erect nipple. I
circled it with one finger and then gently squeezed it with three fingers in time
with sucking her clitoris. She began arching her back and her pelvic thrusts
grew more vigorous and faster. I could feel her anus contracting vigorously and
then the change to the saltier and somewhat more complex taste as her Bartholin
glands kicked in. This was the critical time. I slowed down on clitoris, anus,
and nipple and just gently and more slowly kept licking. She was sighing deeply
and her hand relaxed a little on my hair indicating I shouldn't drive her through
her first orgasm. After three or four minutes her clitoris started twitching and
I knew she was entering her first orgasm and so backed slightly off and ran my
tongue between her clitoris and vagina. I was concerned that her clitoris would
get too sensitive for me to continue licking it and so I concentrated on that
special sensitive area where the Bartholin ducts run up to the clitoris. I call
it the B spot and not many people know how important it is between orgasms if the
clitoris is sensitive. She responded immediately. As my tongue tip made S
curves back and forth over her B area and just barely reaching up to her clitoris
base and down to the upper edge of her vagina, she began to moan more and more
and rock her hips from side to side as well as back and forth. Her anus was
trying to suck my finger in but I kept it just at the edge.
Soon her hand urged me back to her clitoris and I sucked vigorously while picking
up the pace with either hand. Her moans, arching, bucking, and hand in my hair
soon showed that things were going well and she orgasmed a second time quickly.
I backed off to her B area but within a minute or two she was pushing me back to
the clitoris and I thought that we might be on the verge of a real plateau.
Well, it really happened. I couldn't believe how responsive she was. For forty
minutes or more she was in an orgasm or just on the edge and never lost momentum.
She was wetter than I had ever imagined and my tie and shirt were covered with
her secretions. Finally, she gently pulled me back and I realized that she had
been stimulating her right nipple and running her hand through her long red hair.
Her pupils were dilated, her eyes were a little out of sync, she had the biggest
smile, and she pulled me up to her gorgeous mouth and kissed me deeply, sticking
her tongue deeply into my mouth.
She held me against her naked breasts and I realized for the first time how large
and fully supported they were and I saw that erect nipple for the first time.
She still had a faint pink rash over her breasts that usually I'd seen just
before the first orgasm. She said she couldn't believe it. She had never
experienced such orgasms and only reached orgasm occasionally even with her women
partners. They had tried appliances of various kinds that she didn't like, and
her husband after a few months had quit even fingering her clitoris and just
forced her into fellatio and anal intercourse while hurting her. She was rubbing
my face, fingering my ears, while kissing me deeply and repeatedly. She licked
all over my face, tongued me repeatedly, and then asked what she could do to help
with the very large bulge she now felt through my pants. I hadn't even taken off
my coat so she stripped that off, took off my tie and shirt, pulled my T shirt
over my head, and started licking and sucking my nipples. That blew me over the
edge. I hadn't had sex with anyone but my hands for months. I had been working
hard to forget all those urges, but after a few noctural emissions that were
really messy I had been stimulating myself whenever I felt the urge, which was
becoming more regular. Fortunately it had been just two days before or I would
have had a pantsful of semen. She undid my belt while kissing the outside of my
fly. Then she separated my fly with her fingers, grabbed the zipper in her
teeth, and inched it down. I tried to keep myself calm, but it was hard not to
buck just a little. With my button undone, my belt open, and my fly unzipped all
the way, she reached in with her lips and caught my sex in her lips through my
boxer shorts. I about melted. I was so large there was no way she was going to
get me free of my shorts with her lips, so I encouraged her to work faster. She
stripped my shorts and pants off my shoes in one swift pull and there I was in
shoes, socks, and a massive red erection even without red hair. That was soon
corrected as her red hair surrounded me and began bobbing up and down, her tongue
going around and around, while her lips stretched widely to get over my swollen
glans. She made it and was wise enough to keep stimulating the glans which was
driving me quickly to relief. As she felt my testicles engorged and began gently
squeezing them and circling my sex with her fingers, I knew I couldn't wait.
Just then she began deep strokes and for the first time I knew what deep throat
really meant. Other partners either didn't have the knack or my size had
intimidated them, but she got all the way to the roots and I could feel her
contracting on my glans deep in her throat. That was it. I exploded. Never
before have I felt such an incredible orgasm that went on and on. She stayed
with me all the way to the end, gently released my sex, and then tentatively
raised her head as I rushed to kiss and tongue her deeply.
She just smiled and said that she had never enjoyed it before, but with the
incredible orgasm I had given her she had wanted badly to see if she could
reciprocate and had gotten stimulated from my obvious excitement. She urged my
hand down to her bush and pushed my finger to her clitoris as she moaned and
urged me to stroke her. I had gotten a little limp but this started to
strengthen me again and I suggested she show me how she masturbated so I'd know
just what to do. She said she didn't like to do that and used a shower massager
but no vibrator, but then fingered her clitoris. I moved down to watch, but she
pulled me back up and said she had a better idea. Grabbing my sex, she began to
rub its head on her clitoris. Back and forth across the top and then in circles.
She was breathing faster, bent down to kiss and lick my nipples, and kept
rubbing me on her clitoris. Soon she pressed me back on the sofa and straddled
me as she kept my sex working hard on her clitoris. Then, she edged it backwards
until it stuck in the opening to her vagina. Despite how wet we both were, it
was a tight fit. She rubbed it around a little and then, spreading her knees
wide, she forced herself down on it. As soon as the glans was inside, it was
easier and she sighed and then started sucking my right nipple wildly as her hips
started bucking up and down and deeper and deeper. I was about to die of love.
Her long hair cascaded all over my face as I could taste her sex while kissing
her deeply. Her gorgeous breasts stroked my chest and she expertly alternated up
and down strokes with little circles. Soon her vaginal muscles were squeezing
me. I had never felt anything like it and asked how she did that. She explained
that she had had some pelvic floor weakness that led her to do the exercises that
tightened her muscles and made them far stronger. It cured her wetting herself
when she coughed and I had found, perhaps for the first time, that it made her
vagina something very special. She said that she had not had a man's sex inside
her for years and didn't realize how much pleasure she would get from giving
pleasure. She also tilted her pelvis so my shaft rubbed on her clitoris on each
stroke and soon her breasts were flushed with a light pale fawn rash and I knew
she was about to orgasm. She pressed down as far as she could and I could feel
her cervix pressing on my head and I couldn't hold it any more.
That night seemed to last forever. We took three showers but couldn't get
through any of them without starting sex again. We tried every position we knew
for oral and vaginal intercourse, but neither one of us were into anal
intercourse and we agreed on everything else. She shared with me her experiences
with her women friends and distant memories of a few boyfriends whom she
described as inexperienced and after a quickie. She had always been very erotic
with wonderful fantasies she shared, but had had difficulty in finding pleasure
with lovers of either sex before. By morning we hadn't had any sleep, and were
fully satisfied and sore. We feel asleep in each others arms, both thinking that
we'd gone to heaven.
Well, that was how I met my bride. We've got three children, two with the
wildest red hair you've ever seen, and we have sex almost every night at least
once. My thrill at seeing Emma after a long day of work is greater every
year, and she keeps me excited with just a hint of breast or bush or a breath in
my ear or a gentle caress of my pants. We have a perfect marriage, and all
because of that resuscitation. She told me she had never done that before, but
that I had aroused her that night and she cared so much she took off her panties
just on the possibility that I might see something that would get us together.
Well that something is all real, no tinting, and over the years it has gotten
even more fine and red and still tastes like the greatest treat on earth.
Copyright ?1998 by SIC