Chapter 2
Jane put on a dress and joined her parents in the living room.
Ma was elegantly slender, a handsome woman with darkish hair helped by tints. She wore a slacks suit. She lived in them. The outfit was tailored and her hands were manicured and her sandals had cost twice what Jane would spend. An executive secretary had to make a good appearance.
She said, "Jane, Dad said there was something amusing in the operating room. It sounds like black humor." She shuddered. "How could anybody even smile when they're hovering over somebody who is being carved open? "
"The operation was as simple as pulling a tooth." Jane curled up in her chair, sipping her dry martini. "But, Ma, you wouldn't approve. I shouldn't have mentioned it."
"It's dirty, then! It was a mistake to let you go into nursing. It makes you calloused about the human body, it's functions, and all those coarse things. I wanted you to be a teacher. It's more dignified. Maybe when you get your degree you could teach...."
Dad said, "She could teach reproduction."
Jane giggled.
Mother tossed her head. She looked daggers at both of them, got up, and swept out to the kitchen.
Dad said, "She never managed to make a prude out of you, Janey. Thank God. Hey, while she's gone, tell me about the guy on the operating table."
"I should tell you about Nurse Kelly instead. She's a cutie with a sassy tongue. But what happened, the patient had an oversize sex organ. Afterward Kelly asked me-so suddenly-Dad, I'll have to use her word-she said, 'Did you ever see such a big cock?' "
Dad burst into laughter.
Jane found that she was blushing. She didn't ordinarily exchange such confidences. Why? Because she would talk about anything to sidestep the fact that Dr. Jonas Blake had made her pussy steamy by just looking at her.
Dammit, she wouldn't give in to him!
The following morning Jonas Blake had his nose in a coffee cup when Jane Hearne swung past his office.
Yesterday he had seen only those blue eyes. Now he saw the curves and the red hair, and long, flashing legs. He was sitting on his desk. He made the doorway with a single step and peered out, and saw her down the hall, hams moving vigorously under the skirt of her slick white dress. Straight back, strong shoulders for a woman. Her red hair was pinned up, her cap chalky on top of it. She was in a hurry, but there was a sensual roll to her behind, and he watched it until she turned into a room.
Frankly, she made him feel horny.
He stuck his nose back into his coffee cup, feeling slightly lousy, a bit of a hangover. They had played bridge the night before, which Madge liked and he didn't, and he had drunk too much in order to endure it.
Nurse Hearne emerged from the room and came striding toward him. Christ, what a pair of tits! They jumped, wobbled, jiggled. Blue eyes beamed at him. She smiled. Plump lower lip. Dimples. Not a smile, a grin; few women grinned, but she did, as though he were a friend instead of a man.
"Good morning, Doctor," she called cheerfully.
"Hum, Miss Hearne," he mumbled as she swept past with a jiggle of tits and a wobble of behind.
Her uniform was immaculate, and she glowed with health, enthusiasm, self-assuredness. Jonas Blake thought that if he were to describe a perfect young nurse it would come out Jane Hearne. But he was a cynic who didn't believe in perfection. Even Miss Hearne was flawed, for like every woman she had a hairy-edged hole under her belly, a gap in the smooth contours of her form, a gash into which the curves flowed, and when a hard penis slid up that orifice she was someone else, the perfection set aside or sluffed off. Not believing in perfection, the cynic in Jonas Blake yearned to dispel the illusion by pronging into Miss Hearne's vagina.
He turned back into his cubbyhole office and squeezed in between bed and desk to his chair and folded his lanky form into it. On the desk was a stack of patients' charts. He had already thumbed through them. It was one of those days when every patient was progressing splendidly. City General was a madhouse but Jonas' section of it was performing as though computerized. Nurses smiled, patients healed, food came hot from the diet kitchen, and Jonas' fellow doctors kept away.
He shifted his legs and discovered that his penis was erect.
Miss Hearne, you shouldn't have done this!
Funny. The day before she had been only a pair of powder blue eyes between gauze cap and gauze mask. But she had gotten to him, as though he had seen those jiggling tits and the rolling ass. What was in her eyes?
Smugness?
Fur appeared in the doorway, a fluffy collar of white fox with a matching Russian-style hat, and between a pale gold face and violet eyes, a few blonde curls, beauty off a cameo; Madge, his spouse.
"Darling, I ran out of money."
He tried to rise to greet her but the chair bumped the bed behind and his thighs hit the desk and he bounced back down. Escaping this desk was a maneuver. So she leaned across the desk and kissed him, opening her coat to give him a glimpse of her high breasts pushing their nipples out at a silk dress. That meant her call would be expensive.
She perched on the desk. "Jonas, this office is the end! A bunk bed, a desk, a file cabinet. Are you a doctor or an orderly?"
He could say that some doctors were tripled up in such offices, but that wasn't the point. She was harping on it again; get into private practice and milk the patients for a hundred thousand a year, sit behind a mahogany desk big enough for Ping-Pong and act pompous.
His eyes narrowed. He squirmed to get at his wallet. "How much do you need, Madge?" he asked.
"There's a copy of a Paris original down at the Sylvia Boutique, you'll just love it, darling." She flung back the wings of her coat to demonstrate, hands caressing her cone-shaped breasts. "It fits like a glove, I mean, some would call it too sexy but I know your tastes."
His tastes at the moment were a good deal larger than what his wife was going to clothe in a Paris original copy. Miss Hearne's bouncing boobs still filled his vision, and thinking of them made his prick throb.
"Two hundred?" he asked.
"Well, it's marked down, you see?"
"Two-fifty?"
"It sounds like a lot but there's the country club dance coming up."
He handed her his wallet, not wanting to know how much. He kept lots of cash, hated writing checks. Besides, when Madge had spent it, it was gone and she couldn't spend anymore. He had long ago refused to have anything to do with charge accounts or credit cards, much to Madge's displeasure.
As she extracted wads of greenbacks from the wallet she said, "Last night Dr. Wilson said he couldn't understand why you wouldn't come in on his new clinic."
"Because Wilson is a vampire who sucks not blood but money, because I earn enough here and I like working my ass off, and right now I have to study these charts to find why all my patients are dying." He picked up the sheaf of charts and shook them.
"I love you when you're angry," Madge cooed, bent over and kissed him, buttoned her coat, and went off with a fistful of cash, leaving a very thin wallet on his desk.
Jonas wondered if his wife could be shacking up with that cocksucker of a Dr. Wilson, a quack who couldn't take out an appendix if the directions were written on the patient's abdomen. The son-of-a-bitch drove a car so expensive that when Madge climbed into it she practically came.
Jonas' day was spoiled.
Worse, Miss Hearne chose that moment to fly past his door, smiling broadly at him, titties bouncing, her lush ass all a-jiggle.
His prick leaped up to full erection.
Liz Kelly had been busy, but she had missed nothing happening in the lime-green corridor of B-Wing-Six.
She had seen Madge Blake in her white fox collar and hat, a frosty bitch of a classy hooker, descend on Jonas to milk the medical profession. Jonas deserved better. He deserved Liz. Well, she would turn him down, for while she fell in love often it was always with some ass and Jonas wasn't one. But she liked him.
Except when he stared at Jane Hearne and his dark eyes grew to liquid coals, and then Liz hated him without being sure if it was jealousy, if she were herself in love with Jane, or just left out, the third wheel on a bicycle.
She entered the room of the appendectomy, Hank Carson, a junior at Charlesburg U., age twenty, whose over-size penis had amused her the day before in the operating room.
"I have to pee," he said.
He had already been up. Dr. Jonas moved his patients quickly to prevent adhesions. Most protested, preferring the old-fashioned way of letting them be good and sick for a week flat on their backs.
She said, "I'll call the male nurse."
"I don't need that much help; just steering to the John...."
"And somebody to take it out for you? " She sat on the edge of the bed, fingering his pulse, her gaze falling automatically to her wristwatch. He was a nice-looking boy, blonde, a friendly face. But she was thinking of Jonas. A big penis didn't make a man. There had to be sufficient age to respect, for one thing. Jonas was ten years older than Liz. Anyhow, she liked this Hank, and enjoyed teasing him. He was a bit brassy, and raunchy talk did a lot for his spirits.
He whispered, "Look, if you want to just sneak your hand under the sheet and give a pull or two, I won't tell anybody."
"That's the best offer I've had all day. Why is your pulse racing? Afraid I might do it?"
"I implore you. Liz, please pull my wick?"
"You horrid thing, I'm a virgin." She rose and went to the door, wagging her behind for his benefit. She heard him laugh, then groan as the laugh got to his stitches. She smiled. It was good to have kids in the wing. They would survive. They kept you going with the old ones who wouldn't.
She passed Jonas' office and saw him glumly thumbing through charts. He waggled fingers at her. She waggled back. Almost past, she decided he needed cheering up even though she kind of hated him now for that odd Hearne-conflict thing. She stuck her head in and said, "The appendix wanted me to help him into the John."
"How did it feel?"
"Kind of soft, at first."
"Kelly, I'll report you to the supervisor!"
"And I'll tell your wife about you and me." She went on to the nurses' lounge, a deadly place of metal and cold tile, with a couple of armchairs, a makeup table, a double bunk, a John, and lockers. On the lower bunk lay Jane Hearne smoking a cigarette. In the sterile room she looked as fresh and pretty as spring flowers.
Liz flung down into an armchair. Jane tossed her the pack of cigarettes. She had opened the top buttons of her uniform dress and Liz could see one breast in a thin bra, a snowy hillock looming in her vision. Liz squirmed. Her lips felt dry. Dam-nit, she did have a thing for this Hearne!
Jane asked, "Was that Dr. Blake's wife? The white fox?"
"Who did you say-she-fox?"
Jane grinned. "She does look like a bitch, doesn't she?"
Liz lit her cigarette. She saw that Jane's lower lip was the plumpest, the softest of cushions. She wanted to taste it, suck it. She tore her gaze away. She knew she would never get to first base with Jane. Have an affair with somebody else. A change of pace. Forget this girl.
But she asked, "Hearne, do you have a steady guy?"
"Had one once. He knocked up my girlfriend and I got cured." Jane glanced at her watch. She stubbed out her cigarette and got up. She went to the makeup table and leaned over it, fixed her hair in the mirror, and went out.
Liz cocked up a leg. Her skirt fell back. She fingered her pussy. She rarely wore panties, had none on now. Her lip fur was damp. Her hole was starting to open. Dammit, she was hot for Janey girl! She pressed on her black-haired outer lips, opening her split, and gently stroked the slippery flesh between. She shivered. She had gone without sex for a while, for one reason or another, a guy out of town, a girl friend who had gotten married.
She rose and tossed her cigarette in the ash tray and went out, pensive now. It was a quiet hour, eleven. Most of the patients were dozing. No O.R. until afternoon. Passing Jonas' office she saw him gazing moodily at the hall. She stopped and leaned against his doorjamb.
"Trouble?" she asked.
His gaze was absent. He frowned. He glanced at her then, at her eyes. He said, "Kelly, you're a nice girl."
For some unaccountable reason she blushed.
He said, "I'm tired of being stared at by everybody passing in the corridor. Come in and shut the door."
She did that, then leaned back against the door avoiding his gaze. Her heart was doing some odd fluttery things.
He said, "They're all on the make except you. You seem to live in the moment for the people around you. It's damn nice."
Liz Kelly did feel each moment very keenly, and worked on impulses. She knew in her heart what Jonas needed, and she moved, in between the bed and the desk, bending over him and pressing his head to her breast. She held him, a hand cupping a rawboned shoulder, and rubbed her cheek on the top of his head. She guessed she was still warm inside from gazing at Jane. That was part of it. Looking down she saw that his prick had risen up, ridging his white pants. She didn't think that she had caused it. Jane, or else his wife, but that didn't matter. Anyhow, it wasn't he who had dampened her pussy lips.
He whispered, "Go lock the door."
She obeyed. Then she stood backed to it, eyes downcast, blushing again as he climbed out from behind his desk and came to her, hands on her hips, rising up her waist to the sides of her breasts as he bent and kissed her. She arched in to him, her hands vining up his back to his neck. He was kissing her gently, and it was all very tender. She had never kissed him before or flirted with him except New Year's Eve, but now it was happening and she liked it, the hard feel of his muscles and his angularity, and his cock pressing her belly, and his thumbs now rubbing her nipples. She knew it was all right. She could feel that it was. Her body had gone soft and was molding to his. She felt terribly glad she was a girl; God knows being female was often a nuisance but not now, as she let her mouth yawn and took in his strong tongue and softly sucked it.
His hands going immediately to her breasts would have offended some girls. It pleased her. Coyness made her want to spit. Man and woman together meant sex and her breasts were sexy, so there. For her part, she wriggled her belly against his hardening penis, and lost herself in a rosy haze of well-being.
Janis Hearne was forgotten. Let her keep an eye on the patients. Liz heard the office squawk box blurt. "Dr. Elstein to surgery, please." The hospital wouldn't leave private their affectionate, salving kisses here in Jonas' office, but they were used to that. In this teeming honeycomb of a sick factory, they were enslaved by the appendix that decided to burst, the pedestrian who jaywalked, the toddler who liked the taste of scouring powder. So Liz clung to Jonas' back and sucked his tongue and rubbed her belly on the rigid length of his horny dong, shunting to a corner of her mind the rest of the hospital.
His hands circled her back and fumbled with her bra hooks.
She whispered, "We shouldn't undress all the way." While he unfastened her bra she unbuttoned her uniform dress. It opened to the waist. When the bra came free his hands invaded her front and she sighed chokingly when his fingers kneaded the plump luscious breasts.
By impulse and through native honesty, Liz slid a hand down between their bodies and grasped the bulging head of Jonas' cock.
He said, "It doesn't measure up to your appendix patient."
He was expecting her to make a joking reply. Didn't he know that she needed no jokes when a man she liked was caressing her breasts, when she had the ultimate security of his cockhead in her cupped palm? She smiled up at him, thinking how beautiful his dark eyes were. He kissed the point of her turned-up nose. She thumbed up his zipper to the tab, pinched the bit of metal and drew it scraping down. His prick slid out hot and hard into her waiting hand.
Liz shivered with pleasure.
Jonas felt the throbbing in his cock become violent as Liz's soft fingers kneaded it.
He couldn't quite believe that his hands were squeezing Liz's naked tits, that she had taken out his penis. Their bawdy chatter had always kept them at arm's length. She was a luscious little piece of woman, no denying it, and had he been a philanderer he would have tried to make it with her long before. But he got enough screwing with Madge, and Liz's friendship was what really counted. Thus, Liz had seduced him.
He wouldn't ask why. He kissed her cheek, as white and smooth as a gardenia petal, then her upturned nose and her lips as slick as cream. She was smiling.
He moved from her, tore off his white jacket and his necktie, kicked off his shoes. Liz bent over to remove her shoes and her breasts hung out, a lush pair with big red crowns that made his mouth water. He took her arm and turned her to the narrow bunk bed. Still smiling at him, she dropped down on it, drawing her skirt up above the tops of her white stockings. He glimpsed dark pussy hair. No panties. How nice, Liz! I like that, no panties.
He unbuckled his belt and unhooked his pants waist, let his pants fall as he climbed onto the bunk bed and looked down at Liz, her eyes hooded now, her gaze turned away. A blush colored her cheek. Yes, Liz blushed, Liz, the bawdy jokester! Her titties quivered on each breath. They stood high, the red cone tips pointing slightly outward. As he watched she drew her skirt up to her waist, baring a curly black triangle of pubic hair, and above it the silky white band of her garter belt cutting across her abdomen. He wished that they were naked but only six feet to his left was the hall, bustling with nurses and wheelchairs, and soon the diet wagons would roll; over the door was the white squawk box with a round black screen. At any moment it could call for Nurse Kelly or Dr. Blake. He would have to zip up over his erection, she hitch her bra and button her uniform dress....
Yet he was in no hurry. Nor did she seem to be, smiling and gazing sidewise at the wall.
He bent down and kissed her cheek. He rested on an elbow, closed a hand on her left breast, gently kneading the firm fullness of it, and rubbing his thumb on the nipple.
Her fingers combed into his hair. She turned her head. Their lips met, hers open, her tongue-tip in them, fluttering now, flagging at his extending tongue, touring his lips. Then her mouth yawned and she took the long thrust of his tongue and gave a whimper of passion, and he felt her whole body squirm.
"Ooooohhhh," she panted.
He asked, "Happy?"
"Uh, huh. Yes, that's it. Happy. That's the word."
Again he kissed her, licking into the softness of her mouth, down the trough of her tongue as her creamy lips sucked his. She nibbled, teasing, then drew a deep breath and shuddered and sucked more strongly on his lingual thrusts.
Shortly he moved down her throat, kissing the softness of it to the rise of her breast, a slope crowned by an aureole darkening with passion, bearing a nipple peak that was stiffly erect. He kissed and licked up the mound to the big red cone, toured it with his tongue, laid little sucking kisses on the taut flesh. When he at last swiped the nipple with his tongue tip, Liz moaned, "Oooohhhh, Jonas! Oooohhh, how wonderful!"
He curled his tongue around it. The nubbin stiffened. Glistening with his saliva, the nipple grew taller, the turgid surface a deeper red. He lipped the succulent bit and tugged it, and heard Liz groan with pleasure. He swabbed the whole tit crown with his tongue and then pressed his open mouth to it.
Liz was trembling in anticipation.
He suckered fast, filled his yawning mouth with tit.
"Oooohhhh!" she gasped. "Jonas, too much-but don't stop...."
He licked about the bulging nipple and aureole as he sucked, then filled up, nipple in his throat, his hand forcing more breast into his oral cavity. Sucking strongly, he wagged his head, tugged, then pressed to her, burying his nose in mammary flesh.
"Jonas," she whispered. "You'll make me cum."
He tongued out his delicious mouthful. "You cum pretty easy then, Liz."
"I didn't say that. I said, what you're doing to me, I can feel it in my vagina. like I'm in love with you. But I'm not, because love hurts. This is just plain yummy. My pussy is so wet! Feel it, Jonas."
He turned to her crotch and saw that her thighs were spread, her lip hair glistening with vaginal dew. Her outer lips had swollen, spreading apart to reveal her extended coral labia. Jonas moved his hand down her belly to her thigh and stroked satiny white skin. It quivered under his touch. His hand roved over her protruding mound and his fingers raked through the luxurious silky bush, the hair pad that would cushion his loins. He closed his hand on her vulva and squeezed it. He heard a squirty sound.
Despite the presence of the squawk box over the door, which had made some new sounds, "Nurse Johnson to six-o-five; Doctor Harris to X-ray," his mood was unhurried, and now he toyed with Liz Kelly's juicy twat as though he had all day to spend. He parted her lips and touched the slick pink bump of her clit. She jerked. He bent down to it and smelled the sweet tanginess of clean, hot, female musk. To show his affection he lowered and chinned into her soft bush and tongued the dainty clitoris.
"Jonas!" she groaned.
The odor of cunt inflamed his senses. He licked down her quivering split. He paused to mouth a hairy lip, then swabbed her trough with the breadth of his tongue. When he reached her vaginal mouth he was on fire, and licked up it, his tongue flagging wildly, touring the rim, whipping at the slippery, elastic flesh.
Then she said, "I'm starting to cum, Jonas, you'd better screw me before I flip out of my cotton pickin' mind!"
Her hips were beginning to heave. He sucked at the flow of juice drooling out of her vagina. God, she had a luscious cunt! The epitome of femaleness, wide open now, livid in color, and honeyed from the notch of her clitoral hood down her gash to her yawning vagina. It was time.
He raised up and climbed over her leg into the cradle of her upraised thighs. She seized her knees and drew them back beside her breasts, opening her crotch wide until all he could see was her hair-edged red-pink gash, which seemed very long, and the darkness of her rounded hole, and below, some thin hair leading to the pink pucker of her ass-hole.
He lowered, angling his cock down toward her drooling cuntal orifice. His organ was so turgid that it turned upward toward the end, which had swollen out, flaring like a cobra's hood, a soft-shod, blunt arrowhead. As he neared, Liz's hand darted down and grasped his stem to steer it. Funny, he thought. Many women wanted the man to do it, to shove in on his own, in a way violating them. Having done nothing but let themselves be used, they took no responsibility for the act. Madge was like that. But Liz could never even contemplate such a cheating of her honest sensuality.
She nipped it into the mouth of her hole, held it down with her thumb while her fingers prowled in search of his scrotum. He lowered an inch and his cockhead squeezed into her vagina, and Liz's hand closed on his testicles.
"You have such big balls I" she panted.
Slowly his stem entered her steaming cavity. Her vagina was in motion, undulating on each inch of cock sis it entered. Inside was a pumping, drawing, at the fat head of his distention, which was stretching her. Liz's vagina was narrower than Madge's, and who's done the most fucking? He wondered about that but not seriously, for what counted was the incredible suction inside her, the vaginal walls oozing and clinging to his prick. Full in, he pressed his loins to her gash and felt the searing heat right through her pubic hair. His nuts fell against her ass-hole. Fully in, he lowered his torso.
Her hands were on his shoulders and as he came down they circled his back, and then her legs crossed and her heels dug into his spine.
She whispered, "Don't fuck me yet, Jonas."
He chuckled. "What in hell, do you think I'm doing?"
"I mean, don't move. Let me come all by myself, huh? I'm on fire, I just have to get over a peak before I can settle down. Okay?"
The squawk box blared, "Dr. Harris to X-ray, please."
Jonas mimicked it, saying, "Dr. Blake to let girl fuck him."
Liz smiled but it was fleeting. Her color was high. She was quivering inside, too hot for smiling. Her arms and legs tightened on him and she began humping, raising her swampy cunt against his loins, shoving. Then her vagina drew suckingly as she stripped off the stiff curve of man-meat. Bracing harder, she lifted again, shuddering and uttering mewling sounds.
"OOOOOHHHHH, CUM-MING, CUM-MING! MY CUNT, JONAS, OH, IT'S SQUISHING---"
He remained bridged over her, supplying the stiff cock on which her inner belly fluttered and shrank and then whipped into a series of spasms. They became longer and harder.
"OOOOOHHHH," she cried. "I'M CUMMING, JONAS, PLEASE DIG IT IN, POKE ME WITH YOUR COCK, OH, JESUS, IT FEELS LIKE A BARBER POLE INSIDE ME, BANG ME ONCE AND I'LL GO FLYING...."
He rammed in hard and Liz let go, humping up at him, fairly lifting him, squashing her slobbered twat on him. He felt her juice run down his scrotum and, when he slammed in again, his balls splashed in slobber running down from the mouth of her cunt to her ass-hole.
She collapsed, jellied, but her vagina was still sucking at his bloated prick.