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I didn't love my job.
I mean, it paid well. But it just wasn't the kind of job I
always thought a man should have or any person should enjoy.
I was a nurses' aid at a hospice in Cincinnati.
Don't laugh.
Me? A guy? A nurses' aid?
Well, let me explain a little.
First: a hospice is like a hospital. It has nurses and doctors
and beds and rooms and medicines. But you don't go there to get
cured. You go there to die. A hospice is where they send someone
who has been diagnosed with a fatal illness and there's no need to
keep them in a hospital because they are just taking up room and
there's no way to cure them. Those people still need care and
medical treatment but it's too expensive and time consuming to keep
them at home so they are sent to a hospice.
Doesn't sound like a fun kind of place, does it?
Well, that's where I worked: The Runyon Medical Hospice.
I was well liked by the staff there and well paid by the
administrators. I was pulling in $20.00 an hour! They needed me.
Having dropped out of medical school (for lack of money), I was as
able as any nurse but, at 190 lbs, I could easily lift the patients
from their beds to the gurneys and from the gurneys to the
whirlpool baths or examination tables.
There were other, female, nurses aids and male orderlies, but I
combined the two and, in our small, twelve room, four ward,
hospice, I was quite appreciated and busy.
I worked the midnight shift, coming on duty each night at ten and
working until seven, six nights a week.
I don't mind telling you, that REALLY cut into my social life.
Not that I had one.
I was thirty-five years old. Not bad to look at. I had brown
hair and eyes and I was told that my smile was sexy. But I was
just a tad on the heavy side.
My only days off (to troll the bars and look for women) was
Sundays and that's not the greatest night of the week for bar
hopping.
I was quite shy around the opposite sex (especially if the girl
was sexy and pretty) but I managed to met the occasional woman and,
every once in a while, I got lucky and took her back to my
apartment for a good fuck.
The women were surprised at the size of my cock. I don't mean
to brag, but I did have a good eight inches of man meat. And it
was a THICK eight inches too!
Those women LOVED it!
The trouble was, all those women were either too old or too fat
or two homely or too stupid for me. And they talked and talked and
talked-- about nothing-- endlessly. Or they talked about getting
married and keeping my cock for themselves.
Married?
I wasn't ready for that. At least not with the ones I had met
and fucked. None of them were what I wanted-- a pretty, young,
quiet, intelligent girl. I wanted a sweet, little virgin with a
great, sexy body and an endless desire to have herself fucked and
eaten and with a constant craving to suck my cock.
Now, I ask you, where was I going to find a girl like that?
There were a couple of pretty nurses on the midnight staff at
Runyon.
Candy was 25 and had a body that was just built for sin. She had
long, permed blond hair (that she wore up and under her little
nurses cap) and sweet, full, lips. You should have seen the way
her sexy ass would sway, in the short skirt of her white uniform,
when she walked.
Peggy was 23 and a fiery red-head with an incredibly pretty face.
She had a button nose and a swarm of freckles on both her high
cheekbones and under her eyes (which, by the way, were emerald
green). She looked great in white too. She had firm looking,
ample breasts and she filled out her white uniform as well as any
girl could. Wow, did she have a set of long, sexy legs! You
should have seen the way she sat, with her legs crossed, in those
white stockings.
Peggy and Candy would take coffee breaks and lunches with me and
we'd joke around with each other and sometimes talk pretty sexy.
But it never amounted to much. All three of us were afraid of
mixing our personal lives with our professions. And, though both
women were alluring enough to die for, Candy did have the annoying
habit of loudly chewing gum all the time. She had a way of rolling
it on her tongue and then causing it to make "popping" noises. I
HATED that! Peggy, on the other hand, was always talking about her
latest boyfriend and how this new one would abuse her even more
than the last one. She was always saying that her luck with men
was so awful and that she would really like to have a nice man,
like me, and yet she always fell for the ones who drank heavily,
slapped her around, took her money, wrecked her car and (just for
fun) beat her black and blue.
I did try to get somewhere with her once. I asked her out to
dinner at a nice restaurant and, after thinking it over for two
days, she said she'd try it with me.
Lonnie (her old boyfriend who liked to flick lit cigarettes at
her) called her on Thursday and wanted to patch things up and get
back together. By Friday our date was off.
Monday she came to work with two burn marks on her forearm but
told me and Candy that Lonnie was moving back in with her that
weekend.
So much for women in my life. Candy and Peggy were the only
women I came into contact with. Except for the patients. And the
patients were all dying! They were all in the age group above 50!
All grey haired crones with wrinkles on their wrinkles. All laying
in their beds, in their hospital gowns, and moaning and bitching
and waiting for the grim reaper.
We had male patients too. Just as old and just as moaning.
I had to move them and dress them and bathe them and give them
enemas and catheters and change colostomy bags. I had to talk with
them and smile nicely and take the verbal abuse, that they
sometimes bestowed upon me, for trying to make them comfortable in
their last weeks of life.
I made friends with a couple of the old crows once or twice (just
talking with them) but sooner or later they all checked out. And
when I say "checked out" I mean they really checked out. No
patient left under their own steam (unless the family's money ran
out before their dear loved one croaked).
It was a Tuesday evening when everything changed for me.
I had just finished wiping all the shit off Mr. Cotter, in the
men's ward, when Candy came walking up, looking sexy as hell in her
white uniform and chewing her gum loudly.
"Hi, Bob," she smiled, as she lifted his chart from the metal
footboard of the hospital bed. "How's Mr. Cotter?"
"He smells a lot better," I said as I lay the frail, mumbling,
incoherent, old man back down and watched her prop her left foot
up on the side of the bed so she could rest the chart on her white-
stockinged knee and leaf through the pages.
From my position, across from her and leaning to pull the blanket
up to the old man's neck, I could see right up her white skirt,
almost to the cheeks of her butt. She was wearing thigh high
stockings tonight and I could plainly see where the white of her
creamy thigh emerged from the frilly, elastic band.
God! Did she WANT me to look up there?
I could feel my dick harden with a fury.
I hadn't gotten any pussy in months!
Candy chewed loudly and popped her gum a few times as she read
and scribbled notes on Mr. Cotter's chart.
The smell of cinnamon came to me as I continued to look up her
skirt.
She didn't seem to notice as she said, "Peggy's checking B-Ward
and then I have to check A. I've got to medicate three in here and
then check the private rooms. I wondered if you would look in on
the new patient in Room 11? She just came in this afternoon and
I hope the day shift prepped her."
"Sure," I said, looking up at Candy's radiant face just as she
lowered the chart.

ENTER
TEEN STEAM

Candy's mouth was one of those where her upper lip was an
inverted V-shape below her upturned nose. Her lips looked so soft
and full and her teeth were so white and straight. She was wearing
pink lipstick (her favorite color) again tonight. I couldn't help
but think what a wonderful thrill it would be to pump some sperm
between those lovely lips....
"Bob? What are you staring at?" She giggled and her nose
wrinkled as she smiled at me with her wide, doe-brown eyes.
"Oh, nothing," I stammered as I watched her move to the foot of
the bed to re-hang the old man's chart. "I'll get to the patient
in 11 right away."
"Thanks, Bob. It's so great having you around."
"No problem," I said, dropping my gaze to Candy's curvy behind
as she turned and walked over to the next bed. The short skirt of
her white uniform played seductively over the backs of her lower
thighs as she moved.
Man, I thought as I turned to the hallway and started for the
private rooms, spending the evenings with Candy and Peggy wasn't
easing my sexual frustrations any!
The corridor was quiet as I moved toward room 11 and listened to
my soft-soled shoes squeak on the shiny tile floor.
Another poor old lady had checked in to wait for death, I
thought, as I reached the door and opened it.
It was dark in the room and I snapped on the light to check this
new patient and see that all her charts were in order.
As I turned to the bed I got the surprise of my life as I saw,
reposed there on the bed, a young, teenage girl.
I shook my head and blinked a couple of times but she was still
there, with a pink blanket pulled up to her neck and her arms, over
the blanket, at her sides.
She looked to be about eighteen or nineteen, I thought, as I
walked slowly to the bed and looked down at her.
She was an adorable angel.
She had straight, jet black hair, that seemed to be shoulder
length and contrasted dramatically with the delicate appearance of
her pale, white skin. Her cheeks were blushed dark crimson and
almost matched the color of her lips, which were generous and soft-
looking below her small, pert nose. Between her slightly parted
lips, I could see a hint of very white, straight, little teeth.
Her eyes were open but they were just staring blankly up at the
ceiling. They were a deep blue... almost black. She didn't seem
to notice that I was there, in the room with her, at all.
I snapped my fingers in front of her strikingly pretty face but
got no response what-so-ever from her. She didn't even blink. She
just continued to breathe, slowly and evenly, through her nose.
I walked to the foot of the bed and took her chart.
Her name was Tia Elizabeth Mieneke. She was 17, 5', 5" tall and
weighed 115 lbs. She had a closed head injury from an automobile
accident when she was 15. She had been in a coma ever since then.
Her family-- it said on the chart --had given up all hope of her
recovery and had given the doctors, at Sentinel Hospital,
permission to pull the plugs on her life support systems. That was
two weeks ago. Apparently Tia had kept breathing on her own. The
doctors (the chart said) were only giving her another week to live
and the family had moved her here. In big, red letters, on the
bottom of the chart, it said: GIVE NO MEDICATIONS.
I looked from the chart to the unbelievably pretty girl on the
bed.
I gasped.
What a waste!
What an absolute angel this girl was! She looked as if Snow
White had somehow come to flesh and blood life. How darling the
features of her face, reposed in a slumber from which she would
never awaken.
It must have been a tough blow to her family (whoever they were)
to have to give up hope, and pull the plug, on such a sweet-
looking child.
I set the chart back on the hook and stepped, to the side of the
bed, next to her.
It was my job to check this girl and see that she was correctly
tended to and that all her physical needs were being taken care of.
I reached over and took hold of the sheet and the pink blanket
that covered her.
Funny. All our blankets were blue. Her family must have
supplied this blanket for her.
I slowly pulled the blanket and sheet down, exposing the girl's
body to me.
Even in the plain, white hospital gown, it was evident
immediately that Tia possessed an exquisitely curvy and firm young
body.
The shapeless gown covered her from just below her neck to just
above her knees but you could make out the curves of her body as
the soft, cotton material clung to her.
Tia's breasts were moderate in size and seemed to rise and fall
with her steady, unconscious breathing. Below that, I could see
that her stomach was flat and that her waist was extremely thin and
waspish and flared out to deliciously proportioned hips and thighs.
I put my hand down on the warmth of her soft chest, just below
her right breast, and pushed on her rib cage. I could feel her
heart beating, strongly and steadily, below my palm.
Looking down at where I was touching her, I could feel my blood
start to boil and my penis start to harden and go erect.
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
This was a patient, I reminded myself. A beautiful, youthful,
comatose patient.
I put my stethoscope to my ears and then I reached behind her
soft, warm body and loosened the top tie of her gown. Then I
pulled it over her satiny, pale shoulders and down to her mid
stomach.
I put the stethoscope to her chest now and checked her heartbeat.
Looking down, I could see both of Tia's firm, exposed breasts.
They were beyond perfect. Two soft-looking, sculpted hills of
exquisite, feminine flesh, topped with small, slightly raised
areolas and pert, little, flat-tipped nipples that were the color
of deep rose.
I felt the urge to wrap my hand around one of them and give it
a squeeze but I looked up into her sweet face and into her
beautiful, unseeing eyes and then I calmed myself and took her
pulse and checked her blood pressure.
All of her vital readings were normal and I went about my
business and recorded her readings on the chart.
I took hold of the bottom of her hospital gown now and pulled it
slowly up her legs and her curvy, pale thighs until I had exposed
her genital area to me.
The breath caught in my throat as I gazed at the most beautiful,
girlish pussy I had ever seen.
Tia had jet back pubic hair. It wasn't bushy, (as were the
other's I had seen) in fact her pubic hair seemed straight and
looked shiny and feathery and soft and it just covered the jut of
her pubic bone, below the plane of her flat, lower stomach.
As I used both my hands to part her supple thighs slightly, I
could see that Tia had no hair on the, flesh colored, pad-like lips
of her pussy and that her outer lips were very smooth textured in
appearance. I could see the protrusion of the hood of her clitoris
between those lips. It was a dark pink in color and looked
slightly moist.
The twin pads of Tia's pussy were pressed close together, forming
a tight slit, as if nothing larger than a slender finger had ever
explored between them.
I swallowed hard and, with the trembling fingers of both hands,
I reached over and gently separated the unbelievably soft pads of
Tia's pussy and then gently opened the delicate inner pedals of
her sexual flower.
I could see the thin, clear, plastic tube of the urine catheter
as it emerged from under her thigh and then entered her just inside
the wet, pink vestibule of her, exquisite, pink vagina.
I was trembling as I stared into the wet, sexual entrance of her
young body for a long minute and then I let go of her pussy and
straightened myself.
Panting loudly, I grabbed the chart and notated the inspection
of the catheter.
I put my hand to my face, to see if I had broken into a sweat,
when I suddenly detected the delectable aroma of her sweet pussy
on my fingers.
The piquant scent of her young, feminine, sexual area caused my
cock to go so painfully rigid that it pounded, like a huge bass
drum stick, in my pants.
Pulling my hand from my nose, I quickly checked that her urine
bottle, at the other end of the catheter, was only a third full and
I noticed that there was no saline IV running to her.
I slowly pulled down the bottom of her hospital gown and then
pulled up the top and tied it behind her soft, unconscious body.
As I pulled her sheet and blanket back up to her neck, I felt as
though I were tucking her in, as her mother and father must have
done a thousand times.
I felt the urge to kiss her forehead but then I checked myself
as I looked again into her beautiful eyes.
Tia just stared beyond me and blankly up at the ceiling,
breathing steadily and slowly, as if she were all alone and I
wasn't even there with her.
Reluctantly, I took one last, long look at her exquisite face,
turned off the light and (with my heart and cock pounding) left the
room.

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