"Doc MacFarlane, Nurse Betty, and Warden Charlie": Behind Bars

[CutiePie1997]

"Doc MacFarlane, Nurse Betty, and Warden Charlie"

This is a "chapter" from the parent role play,
"Behind Bars"

It is being composed here for the ease
of 1x1 writing and reading within a Group Role Play.
When we are done with this interaction,
we will return to the parent thread.​

OOC: This thread began here in the parent thread, "Behind Bars". If you are reading this thread without reading the parent thread first, you will want to also read Doc MacFarlane's introduction, found here.

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Earlier in the evening, just after the dinner time talk from Charlie:

Character profiles page


"Nurse Betty", as everyone called Beatrice Evans, found herself quickly overwhelmed with the events that immediately proceeded the end of Warden Charlie's first address to the inmates.

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" she was crying out anxiously as she hurried wrapped the bleeding torso of the man most called Yanni the Snitch. Speaking about Charlie, she reminded the grimacing and groaning man, "She said no violence! She said no violence! Weren't you paying attention?"

"Hey! I'm the one stabbed here, bitch!" Yanni responded, immediately and sincerely saying between yelps, "I'm sorry, Nurse Betty! I didn't mean that!"

"I know, I know, just ... lay here and don't move."

Finished with him, she moved to a second bed to again look at the damage done to a second man. His face was already swelling and turning blue from a beat down, and lifting the front of his unzipped jumper, she found bruised in the shapes and sizes of fists and toes to his chest and belly.

"Fuck!" Betty murmured to herself. Thinking about what Charlie had promised her when she agreed to remain behind, Betty whispered mostly to herself, "How's this gonna work? How's this gonna work?"

Shuffling feet at the door drew Betty's attention, and turning she found CO Hairy Harvey Lewis coming inside, carrying a woman in his arms. Betty hurried his way, gesturing him to put the woman on yet a third bed as she asked in horror, "What happened?"

"She was attacked, possibly raped, I don't know," the man told her, laying the woman down. Rising high and checking the other two injured inmates, he clarified, "She won't tell me what happened, and the wall of ignorance is up in the block, as usual. Fuckin' animals."

"You need to get Doc MacFarlane," Betty told Harvey. When he began to object, she snapped at him, "He's the only MD in the prison!"

"I'm not bringing that convict to the Infirmary without expressed instructions from our new Warden," the CO stated firmly. He looked off toward a corner of the Infirmary to find Maria Riviera -- the Black Book Madam -- putting together some treatment options for the injured. "What the fuck is she doing here, out of her cell?"

"She's not an inmate anymore, Officer, remember?" Betty reminded Harvey. "None of them are. It's a different world now, a New World Order, remember? And you chose to be part of it, so either fucking help me, or walk out the door of this Infirmary and this prison and get on with your worthless life."

Harvey didn't like it, but he assisted the two women in getting the injured inmates stabilized. After that, though, he insisted on speaking with Warden Charlie about the continuing violence. He cuffed the three convicts to their beds, and Harvey, Betty, and Maria headed in haste for Charlie's office.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

(OOC: The conversation that followed happens here, in case you wanted to refresh your memory.)

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Later:

Back in the Infirmary again with Maria, Betty looked up to find Harvey entering the Infirmary, accompanied by another inmate, Juan Diego. The nurse didn't hesitate to quickly list off their once-again-uncuffed male patient's situations. She left the young woman's issues unspoken as Maria was sitting with her in a corner, talking quietly.

"Help me," Betty begged as she hovered over the stabbed man. "I can't stop the bleeding."

 

[hzilfiger]

Doc MacFarlane paused at the doorway, scanning the room.

Three patients, he noted, of which two seemed to be upright and breathing. That was good. It was the third that Nurse Betty was hovering over.

"Help me," Betty begged as she hovered over the stabbed man. "I can't stop the bleeding."

That decided it. He walked up to the bedside, stopping just in time to catch a pair of nitrile gloves that Diego flung at him. He slipped them on, eyes on the patient.

He knew Yanni The Snitch peripherally. Yanni was nineteen, perhaps twenty, lean with a full head of hair and a perpetual grin that he flashed at everyone as he made his way around. He was always over-familiar, slipping into personal space, where he could, enquiring after things that weren't really his business. Perhaps it was a means of survival. Regardless, his reputation had preceded him and this was his punishment.

Yanni's usual over-effusive demeanour was gone. He lay flat on his back, wearing just the bottom half of the convict uniform. His torso was bare. His breathing was fast and shallow through parted lips. His eyes stared at the ceiling.

"Betty," Doc said, urgency in his voice. "We need to get his blood pressure. And pulse rate. Get the machine."

Doc felt the man's pulse at the wrist. Faint, fast. The skin was slick with sweat. He pressed down on a fingernail then watched the skin under it pink up again. It was slow, too slow. He was shutting down.

Haemorrhagic shock. Probably Stage 2. Bad news.

Yanni's circulation was shutting down from blood loss in an attempt to maintain the blood flow to his heart and brain. And, because the bleeding carried on, his body was failing. If they didn't do something soon, Yanni would be the next occupant of the mortuary, right next to Kong.

He looked up. Diego was doing what he had been trained to do; he had a tourniquet around the man's left arm and was tapping furiously for a vein.

"Any luck?" Doc called out.

"Quizás," Diegeo replied, eyes on the prize. He already had a steel-tipped cannula in his hand. "Maybe. I see one."

While Diego tried to get access, Doc lifted the cotton pad that Betty had pressed down onto Yanni's abdomen. A gush of blood followed. There was a lot on the mattress already, he saw - Yanni was lying in it. The stab wound was tiny, barely an inch wide. But it lay just below the right rib cage. He stuck his finger in it and Yanni roused.

"Ugh. What the fuck you doin', bitch?" he groaned. "Ow! Fuck!" as Diego stuck the cannula into the other arm. Yanni made a lot of noise, Doc noted, but he didn't strike out or pull away. That was a bad sign.

He looked over to Diego. "Tell me you got it in."

Diego flashed back a grin. "No problem," he replied. "I still got it. I'll just stick it down." He unpeeled a dressing.

"We need to-" Doc began.

"I know, Doc," Diego replied. "He needs fluid. I'll go get it."

Doc continued probing. Narrow though it was, the wound was deep. His finger slid easily down through the layers of muscle until it hit something firm, something that bounced against the pad, moving with Yanni's breathing.

"Shit," Doc muttered to himself. "Liver. Liver laceration. Bad news."

He pulled his finger out and a fresh gout of blood followed. He stuck the pad back on and leaned on it. He looked up.

"Betty! Diego! Step on it!"

 

[CutiePie1997]

Betty hated the sight of blood, which had often led to people asking her why the fuck she'd become a nurse, particularly a prison nurse where stabbings and beat downs like she was seeing tonight were commonplace. Truth was, she'd gone into nursing solely because she'd been offered a scholarship by the State as part of a new Health Care Initiative, and she'd ended up at the prison because it had been the best paying gig available at the time.

But there was one joy that came from working in the Clark County Correctional Infirmary, and it was a joy about which she spoke to no one: she had the hots for Doc MacFarlane. It was an insane and totally illogical situation, Betty knew: he was a jailed convict, and she was ... well, it was hard for her to describe herself to people, but what she wasn't or at the least thought she wasn't was the type of women who fell for bad boys, particularly incarcerated ones.

But then, it wasn't Doc's bad boy-ness that attracted her. He wasn't really a bad boy in the first place: he was, as far as she knew, inside Three-C for nothing more horrific than illegally selling prescription drugs to pocket some cash. She could be wrong, of course, as -- unlike Charlie -- Betty hadn't had the opportunity to peruse Doc's file.

No, Betty lure to Doc was that he was a doctor. She didn't care that he was an inmate, only that he was a medical professional -- unpaid and incarcerated, sure -- who wanted to help vulnerable and injured people.

He called for her to hurry with her task, and she returned to Yanni's bed with the equipment and plasma required to hopefully keep the man alive. She threw herself into assisting Doc, pushing her awe of him aside for the moment.

Saving The Snitch would be a big job, and Doc's experience really showed itself today. When she was no longer needed, Betty shed her blood soaked gown, gloves, and mask and went to the other man's bed to stitch and bandage his wounds before giving him a sedative.

During all of this blood and madness, Maria Roberts had taken their third patient away, back to her cell. The lock down hadn't yet occurred, enabling the Black Book Madam to get the young woman settled into her bed and calmed down, thanks to the sedatives Betty had slipped her earlier in the event.

Back in the Infirmary, Betty again shed her soiled outer ware and made her way over to the Michael. With a tone of respect, she said, "Doctor MacFarlane, that was wonderful work. You saved that man's life. You know that, don't you? It was a pleasure to watch you."

As soon as she'd finished, Betty's fair skinned face blushed a fiery red. She'd sounded like one of those first year nursing students who swooned over the Teaching Hospital Residents. She'd never been one of those types, so why did she feel that way about Doctor Michael MacFarlane now?

 

[hzilfiger]

It was a hard hour. Betty and Diego worked to stabilise Yanni, by now almost unresponsive. They squeezed bags of plasma into the fading man and managed to buy some time. Doc knew, though, that if they didn't stop the bleeding, it would all be for naught.

He got Betty to give Yanni a slug of the morphine they kept for major injuries. She had to run to unlock it from the secure drug store. The morphine was meant to help hold the line until the ambulance arrived. There was no ambulance coming but the morphine would, he hoped, give him a still patient while he did what he had to do.

It wasn't his finest work but he'd done worse. He injected Xylocaine along the wound then, working quickly, deepened the wound with a scalpel until it was four inches long. Not huge but big enough to get more fingers in. He had Diego hold Yanni down, not too difficult for the ex-veteran. Yanni's struggles were becoming more feeble by the minute.

"Betty, over here. I need you to hold the wound edges apart."

She did as he asked without question though he couldn't help noticing her gloved fingers quivering. He looked up to see her gaze averted back over her shoulder.

He used a flashlight to look in. It was a good thing Yanni was a prisoner. There wasn't an ounce of extra fat on him. The liver sprang into view like a bobbing meatloaf. The rent in it was clear, a gash with clean edges that bled and bled.

If he'd been in a hospital, he'd have burned the edges closed with a diathermy device but he had none of that. Instead, he did the next best thing, packing two packs of sterile cotton swabs into the wound. He applied pressure with both hands.

"OK," he said to his helpers. "We need to wait. The blood needs to clot. You guys ok?"

Diego nodded from across the bed. "¡Genial! Great. I saw something like this back on tour. Helmand." He grimaced. "Didn't make it."

"Betty?" Doc asked. "You alright?"

"Yup. Uh-huh." She still wasn't looking.

It looked like it was working. The swabs were saturated but there wasn't any more blood oozing out. They'd done the best they could.

He left the swabs in then closed the wound quickly with coarse interrupted silk sutures. He wasn't aiming for elegance, just a wound that wouldn't split open. When that was done, they rolled Yanni off his soiled mattress, cleaned him up, wrapped him on a blanket and lay him back.

Doc slipped his gloves off and threw them onto the soiled mattress.

"OK," he sighed. "That's one. Let's go have a look at number two."

Once all the work was done, they cleared up. It was just the three of them and the two patients, Maria having taken the woman away to her cell. Diego heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder.

"I'll take this to the incinerator," he said as he turned to go. "I like my coffee black. With three sugars. And lots of cream. Cream. Not milk. Milk is for pussies." He paused. "Sorry, Nurse."

Doc laughed outright. Diego was a treat. There was nothing that seemed to rattle the man.

"No problem, compadre," Doc called out. "I'm on it."

Doc had just walked back in from the tiny kitchen off the main Infirmary, holding a tray bearing a pot of coffee and three cups, when Betty said what she did.

"Doctor MacFarlane, that was wonderful work. You saved that man's life. You know that, don't you? It was a pleasure to watch you."

Then, she blushed. He almost dropped the whole tray onto his feet.

Suddenly, he was tongue-tied. His eyelids fluttered as his mind raced.

"Why-thank you," was all he could think to say. "Thanks. Betty. Um. Coffee?"

She nodded, turned and led the way. There was a small alcove set aside for staff meetings, furnished with a bare wooden table and chairs. As he followed her, Doc couldn't help but run his eyes over her figure. She was slight, barely coming up to his shoulder, but lean and lithe. There was a pleasing sway in the way she walked. She wore her scrubs loose. He wished her srubs were one size too small so that he could-

So that you could what? his brain interrupted. What?

He didn't know. What he did know is that he could feel himself stiffening. Maybe it was the stress and its relief, maybe the intense proximity they had shared, maybe it was just being told something nice by a real woman, being treated like a person rather than just a convict. Whatever it was, it had awakened something in Doc MacFarlane that he had thought long buried.

He took a seat at the table quickly, even before he'd set the tray down. He didn't want her to see just how aroused he was. He hoped the tabletop would hide it. To dispel those feelings, he poured her a cup and pushed it over.

"Thanks again, Betty," he said, looking into her eyes. There was still that remnant flush about her neck. "But it was teamwork. Good teamwork. It wasn't me. It was us. Diego. Me." He paused. "And very definitely you."

He raised his own cup, holding her gaze. "Here's...to us."

 

[CutiePie1997]

Betty had a sudden realization as Diego left the room: never -- never ever -- in her 5 years working at Clark County Correctional had she been left alone in a room with an inmate. Not once! CO Harvey should have been here with her, but Charlie had assigned him to settling down the block

"Here's...to us," Michael said, raising his coffee cup.

Betty lifted her to his, clinked them, then giggled like a little girl. Jesus Christ! Really? her brain screamed at her. You're acting like a never-before-kissed teenage girl! She wasn't, of course: she'd been married for almost 3 years and had had sex on nearly a daily basis for at least the first two-thirds of it.

But Michael MacFarlane made Betty quite literally wet her panties. She engaged him in talk about tonight's operations, trying to get her mind off her lust for him, but it just simply wasn't working.

"I have to go," she said suddenly, standing quickly. She glanced at the patients, asking, "Can you, um ... Doctor ... can you watch them for about an hour. I need to shower and change into some fresh clothes."

She didn't wait for an answer, instead turning and hurrying for the door that led to Staff Housing, a series of small cabins just outside the Inner Fence. Charlie had programmed the gate lock there to allow Betty, Harvey, and Steven to pass through at will.

Once inside the little cabin that she had once shared with two part time Nurses -- both now dead of Red Flu -- she leaned back against the wall and laughed in relief, relief to have escaped the Doc without totally embarrassing herself. After a bit, she stripped and stepped into the tiny shower, where she cleaned off the rest of the blood, washed from head to toe, then masturbated to a fantasy of the Good Doctor bending her over a gurney and fucking her hard and fast to multiple orgasms.

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An hour or so after she'd left, Betty reentered the Infirmary, approached Doc, instantly blushed at the recollection of touching herself to images of him, and said, "I've got this, Doc, if you need to be relieved."

 

[hzilfiger]

"I've got this, Doc, if you need to be relieved."

Betty looked even better than she had an hour ago. She smelt fresh and clean. Her hair was still damp, its sheen accenttuating the tinge of pink to her cheeks. Blushing, he thought. She's blushing. He felt that twinge again.

He spoke quickly in his haste to prevent his own embarrasment.

"Thanks. That's, um, great. I think I'll, um, head back to the showers and clean up." He looked down at himself. His uniform was streaked with sweat and blood. "Yeah. I think that's what I'll do." He smiled at her, a shy grin as he turned away. "Yanni looks stable. And the other guy's sleeping. Both fine. Back soon."

He was back sooner than he expected. Betty rose from the bedside where she'd been checking on Yanni as she saw him enter.

He shook his head. "The place is locked down. All the doors are locked. I can't get back to the cell. Or the showers."

Betty explained why Charlie had locked the CCC down. She also pointed out that there was a HazMat shower in the Infirmary that Doc could use and spare uniforms kept for invalids in the linen cupboard.

Ten minutes later, Michael MacFarlane stepped into the HazMat shower and turned the water on. The jets were fierce and only just better than lukewarm but the sheer volume of water and the hiss of it helped drown out the stresses of the day just past. He swayed in place, letting the water penetrate every nook and cranny. He used his hands to scrub away at the stains, working furiously until his skin tingled.

His mind roamed. What was it about Betty? What is it about you, Michael? What's going on?

He didn't know but the image of Betty's ass swaying away in front of him as she led him to the coffee table earlier set him off. He couldn't help but wonder what that ass would look like in her underwear. Did she wear old-school white cotton panties? Or might she favour a thong?

He imagined her looking back over her shoulder at him. She's smiling. She's at the coffee table now. "Put that down," she says. He sets the tray on the ground. She's undoing the drawstring of her scrub trousers. She lets it drop to her ankles and leans forward, placing her hands on the tabletop. She spreads her legs and bends over. "Well, come on," she says, still looking into his eyes. He steps forward, places his hands on her ass. Her buttcheeks have the shape and firmness of unripe apples. Her muscles twitch under his grasp as he squeezes. He's on his knees now, his tongue probing between her legs. He finds the her hot, thickly liquid centre. face buried in her pussy. She tastes sweet. Thick and liquid and sweet.

As his mind wandered, his right hand found his cock. It rose up from the crush of hair at the base of his belly, throbbing. It felt so full of his blood that he felt faint. The play of water over the head was intense. He began to play with himself, driving his penis into the cupped hollow of his fist, the hollow that approximated but poorly what he imagined Betty's pussy might feel like. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as his hips moved back and forth of their own rhythm.

He was so lost in himself that it took a moment for him to register the sound. He opened his eyes and looked towards it.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Betty's eyes widened and her mouth fell open as she looked through the cracked door and found Michael MacFarlane standing under the Emergency Decon Shower's flow, beating his meat! She'd knocked on the door once, then twice, needing to let him know that Yanni had woken up and was crying out for pain meds. Betty thought she'd heard Doc tell her to come in, and he had been in there long enough to have finished showering, dry, and dress.

She'd never seen a man masturbate before, not even in the porn she'd often watched after her divorce due to the total lack of a continuing sex life. She simply stared in awe as his soapy hand stroked back and forth up a better than average length.

Suddenly Michael opened his eyes, and Betty only barely moved back out of the cracked door in time not to be seen. Her heart was pounding hard and fast from both what she'd seen and the fear that he'd seen her, which thankfully he hadn't.

After a moment, she reached and hand in through the cracked opening and knocked on the inner wall, calling out, "Doctor MacFarlane, are you still in the shower or dressed? Yanni woke up and he's really hurting, and I want to know if it's okay to up his pain medications."

Pulling back from the door again, Betty had to cover her mouth as a laugh threatened to escape. She didn't know why she found this so humorous: was it the seeing Doc masturbating or her almost being caught?

 

[hzilfiger]

He saw a flicker of movement behind the door, through a crack he hadn't noticed getting in. A slim hand made its way through then knocked on the wall before Betty's voice floated over the sound of running water.

"Doctor MacFarlane, are you still in the shower or dressed? Yanni woke up and he's really hurting, and I want to know if it's okay to up his pain medications."

Shit! he thought. Had she seen him?

For a moment, he felt deeply embarassed, like a schoolboy caught with girlie mags behind the stalls. He could feel the flush blooming in his face, blushing just like Betty had done earlier.

"Oh, okay." was the only thing he could think to call out. "I'm just coming out. Give me a minute." He realised that he'd left the towel hanging on the hooks outside the shower. "Can you hand the towel through please, Betty?" Then, as an afterthought, "I hadn't expected you to be waiting for me when I stepped out."

He turned the water off and towelled himself dry as quickly as he could. His cock was still semi-rigid - Betty's proximity seemed to have stoked it to a new energy.

So what? his brain said. So what if she saw you? Fuck, it wasn't that long ago that you stood up in front of a room of hardened convicts and admitted to being Kong's fucktoy. What the fuck do you have to be ashamed about? Grow a pair, MacFarlane.

He wrapped the towel around himself, pushed the door open and stepped out.

"Sorry," he said. "I got a little carried away. It's the first time I've been able to shower without a bunch of murderers and rapists scrubbing themselves around me." He tried a grin. "It should be fine to up Yanni's medication, Nurse. Give me a moment to get dressed and we can look at his dosage together."

He put his hands on his hips and waited for her response. His eyes searched her face, his body attuned to every nuance in her stance and voice.

Was that an accident, Nurse? Or something more?

 

[CutiePie1997]

As she'd been knocking on the door to get Michael's attention, Betty's elbow contacted it just enough to cause it to slowly begin swinging open. She didn't notice it because she was looking away into the Infirmary, so when Doc asked if she could hand him a towel, Betty first thought was Are you kidding?

But then she realized the door was wide open and Michael would have to wander out naked to get his towel. "Yeah, um, sure."

Betty turned her head away and covered her eyes with one hand and headed inside. She realized almost immediately that she could just barely catch sight of his incredible body -- cock included -- in the edge of a mirror on the wall to her left. Unbelievable, she thought, getting a full frontal view of him this time around. He's a fucking Greek God!

She flailed her hand around the rack, pretending to have her eyes closed, found the towel, and handed it to Michael. When he made it clear he was decent, Betty slowly turned to first peek his way, then actually look on him fully. She tried but dramatically failed to keep her gaze off his perfect body.

"I, um, I need your permission to give Yanni another shot of Morphine," she said, finally managing to pull her gaze from his rock hard torso. He gave her the quantity, and with one, then another quick glance at his sculpted body, Betty turned and hurried out, saying over her shoulder, "Take your time dressing, Doc. I'm good out here now."

Back in the Infirmary's patient area, Betty realized that her heart was pounding like a jack hammer. She was suffering another issue, too: her pussy was wetting her panties.

 

[hzilfiger]

Once he'd gotten dressed, they managed to see to Yanni without too much trouble. Once the man had settled back to sleep, Doc turned to Betty.

"I'll camp out here on one of the vacant beds. I want to check up on Yanni overnight, just in case he starts bleeding out again. Why don't you head out and get some sleep? It's been a long day."

She looked like she'd been about to argue but she agreed. He watched her walk out, keeping his eyes off her ass. It was an effort but he just about managed.

He turned the lights down then went to find a textbook from the small library that was part of the Infirmary.

Grey's Anatomy. Perfect. Back in medical school, there was nothing quite like monochrome anatomy drawings to summon boredom. Yet all attempts to brush up on the anatomy of the liver were thwarted by his brain wandering back to his daydream of Betty face down on a gurney, her nails digging into the mattress, her moans muffled by his grunts as he thrust his cock in and out of her cunt.

After half an hour, he got up from his makeshift bed and found a dark corner where he beat the living vision of Betty out of himself with a fist so tight it nearly cramped up on him. He came so hard he felt it in his eyeballs. It toom him a while to clean up - he had to go fetch a mop.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Day 2 (the Next Morning):

Betty had had to use the radio the previous night to ask Charlie to open the gate accessing the Staff Cabin Area following the full prison lockdown. She'd masturbated earlier after changing out of her bloody clothes, and yet now when she returned to her cabin a second time, she once again had her hands between her thighs, this time moving about one of her USB-recharged vibrators.

This isn't going to be easy, she'd thought to herself after her body had exploded in ecstasy. I can't work with this man every day.

She walked into the Infirmary at just a bit past 6am, carrying with her a Rubbermaid container and a thermos. Finding Michael already up and around looking at their patients, she announced, "Breakfast and espresso, Doc. I hope you didn't try to make that nasty coffee in the percolator. Ick!"

She set him up at a desk with an omelet, milk, and OJ, then replaced him in looking out for Yanni and Frank. The former's shiv wound had finally stopped opening up and showed no signs of infection; the latter's face was even more swollen and colored which was delaying her desire to stitch up the many cuts from the beat down by fists and shoes.

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At just a bit before 7am, Charlie arrived with CO Harvey in tow, to check on the patients and ask Doc and Betty how they were doing. They gave her a list of drugs and other medically related items they would need soon.

"We're going to make a run out for supplies in the next couple of days," Charlie promised them. The casino still wasn't even a thought yet, but a scavenging trip was almost a gimme. Charlie inconspicuously pulled aside Betty and asked in whisper, "Are you okay? Do you feel endangered at all?"

"No, ma'am," Betty said with confidence. Looking to the two male patients she said, "We probably don't need to keep them cuffed, but Harvey thought that--"

Charlie waved her silent, then clarified, "I didn't mean the patients. I meant the Doctor."

Only now did Betty realize what Charlie was asking: was she afraid of Doc MacFarlane?

"Oh ... on no, ma'am," Betty said firmly. "No, I've worked with Doc before. No, we're fine."

Charlie caught Betty looking in the direction of Doc -- or more specifically, in the direction of his ass. She smiled wide and asked, "You're fine...? Or he's fine?"

Betty's face exploded in a fiery blush. Almost too low to be heard, the young nurse confirmed, "He's fine. My God, I saw him in only a towel yesterday."

She didn't confess that she'd actually seen Doc naked ... while masturbating! She didn't think that was necessary.

"Well, just keep you're head on straight and your panties around your waist," Charlie said with a devilish smirk. Ironically, Charlie herself would be shedding her own panties later this evening with the Chef, Steven. "Don't get hasty in ... well, you know."

Charlie departed, sharing farewells, and Betty and Doc went back to tending to the injured. When both of their patients were tapping midday naps, the two medical professionals took a moment to get some fresh air. A curious Betty asked, "Are you married, Doc. We've never talked about anything personal before."

He told her what he wanted to tell her and held back that which he didn't, and Betty explained only that she was divorced and had taken the prison job to support her family without speaking about her lying, cheating husband. (OOC: profile)

"I'm glad to be working with you again, Doc," she told him for the second time in 24 hours.

 

[hzilfiger]

Doc noticed Charlie and Harvey entering and talking to Betty. He left them to it but couldn't help notice Charlie pull Betty aside. He cast the odd glance back over his shoulder and caught them looking his way.

He wasn't that surprised at Betty's question, when it came. They'd been familiar with each other on a professional level for a long time but it was only in the last two days that they'd been working side by side. In life and death situations. He knew from his work in Africa that intensely stressful situations, once over, often led people to move closer together, as if seeking some confirmation of a shared experience.

"Are you married, Doc. We've never talked about anything personal before."

They were outside in the fresh air when Betty asked. Doc thought a moment.

"Technically, yes," he began, "but Mindy, my wife, disappeared a few months before I ended up in here. She ran her own company. She was really smart and very successful. Her company was valued at $150 million when it happened. She'd left her office after a late-night meeting and never returned home. Her car was found in some woods about halfway. No evidence of a struggle. It was like she'd disappeared into thin air."

"That left me and Ashley to try and figure things out. Ashley's my step-daughter, my wife's child from an earlier relationship. She's a great kid. We got on really well. We hired private investigators, got our own forensics people in but nothing."

"Obviously, the police then started looking at me, reasoning that I would stand to gain from her disappearance. What they did find is that I was, shall we say, a little too easy with prescribing Oxycontin."

He sighed. "Not proud of it but Mindy was a very controlling woman. I think it came from growing up in a really poor household with an absent father and a mother who was abusing some substance or the other. Mindy saw herself through college and won a scholarship to university. She saw the world as something to be controlled, maybe because she had had so little control over her own early life."

"Mindy's way of controlling things was financial. I made the mistake of letting her look after our finances which meant she held the reins. It was the same with Ashley. Though we lived in a two million dollar house with a swimming pool and a live-in maid, every single thing had to go through Mindy. Or her PA. It was ridiculous."

"So I started freewheeling the Oxycontin prescriptions. Which is what the police picked up. And what got me in here."

He glanced at Betty. "So. There you go. Married but wishing I was not. In fact, if Mindy turned up, I would file for a divorce. I wish she would. Turn up, that is."

Betty then told him a little about her life. Doc was more than impressed with the young woman. She'd had about as bad a start as Doc's wife had had but Betty had managed to turn that round into giving of herself rather than trying to hold everything close.

"I'm glad to be working with you again, Doc," she told him for the second time in 24 hours.

"It's a privilege to know you, Betty," he replied. "Truly."

 

[CutiePie1997]

(OOC: For our readers, remember that this 1x1 is still in Day 2, prior to the Casino Field Trip.)

"Technically, yes," Doc Michael began in regards to Betty's question about his marital status. He went on to explain, adding near the end, "Married but wishing I was not. In fact, if Mindy turned up, I would file for a divorce. I wish she would. Turn up, that is."

Betty was conflicted on how to feel about what Michael had said: about his marriage, about his crimes, about his innocence in regards to his wife's disappearance. If you picked 10 inmates and asked them about the offenses that had landed them here, 9 of them would say they were innocent.

She wanted to believe Doc, for professional and personal reasons both: professionally, it would make working with him easier, believing that the worst of his offenses had been selling prescription drugs without the scripts; personally, it would make her feel more at ease parting her legs to him -- when the time came -- if she didn't have to fear that he might one day make her disappear.

"It's a privilege to know you, Betty, truly," he replied when she said pretty much the same to him.

She smiled and blushed, looking away quickly as she responded with a bit of a pregnant pause, "Thank you ... Michael."

She looked back to see what his response would be to her very first use of his given name. Anything that might have come from that lead in had to wait, though, as Frank called out from inside the infirmary loud enough for them to hear. They returned, only to find that the still cuffed man was desperately in need to pee.

"I'm getting Harvey," Betty declared. "This is silly."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

Charlie stopped by again later in the afternoon with a request for Betty and Michael. "I'd like the two of you to go through the medical records of each and every inmate and staff member -- that would be you, Betty, Harvey, and Steven -- and see if there is anything we need to be concerned about. I've already had two inma-- Residents come to me about medications they're on, and two others are diabetic and refuse to acknowledge the fact."

The Warden's lips spread in a bit of a smirk as she continued, "Also ... we've got men and women fucking in their cells. And Maria's gonna start a, well, you know about that. I need to know if any of these animals--"

She said it with a humorous tone, continuing, "--are ridden with diseases ... and I need to know if we can do something about birth control for the women. By policy, there was no fucking allowed in Clark County Correctional, but we all know it was happening, and now it's happening on a regular basis, and I really don't want a bunch of kids popping out of pussies in 9 months as if it we'd just gone through a hurricane or blackout."

Betty covered her mouth in a failed attempt to stifle a laugh. She explained, "I worked the maternity ward after that blackout three years ago that left Clark County and most of the State in darkness for 6 days. We had an 10 fold jump in births that month."

They discussed the need for condoms and birth control pills, as well as exams for the affected females. Betty offered, "If we find the right pharmacy, most likely at a hospital or OB/GYN, we might be able to find IUDs, too."

She looked to Michael, and in a part question, part statement, suggested, "I think we can perform the procedures, can't we?"

They discussed it a bit with Charlie but would surely speak more on it later when it was just the two medical professionals. Charlie left, feeling content that the talk had been good, calling out as she went, "Get started on those medical record reviews, Betty, and Doc, you start exams. I can't have people falling dead on me 'cause they have high cholesterol or diabetes or what the fuck else."

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!​

Day 5:

Yanni and Frank both had returned to the Block, with instructions to come back twice a day to have their healing wounds looked after. Betty would be upset tomorrow when she heard that both men had volunteered to go out on the Casino Field Trip, but Charlie had insisted that the men be allowed to make their own choices.

The last three days had been filled with never ending work and frustration for Betty. She and Michael had finally finished the review of the medical records of each and every Resident, as well as checkups of most of them as well. They'd found just what Charlie had feared and more; Betty was surprised at just unhealthy their little community was.

The good news was that the New Society of Clark County Correctional -- Molly's favorite term for the prison -- had one of the best doctors in the County, State, or even Country. Betty was becoming more and more impressed with Doc Michael with every passing moment.

She was also becoming more and more infatuated with him as well. Each day during their never ending work, they'd had at least a few minutes -- sometimes only their lunch breaks -- to talk about their lives outside this place. Betty had spoken more about her younger siblings and about how she'd been responsible for much of their financial well being as her own mother had only had part time, minimum wage work for years and had then gotten sick and couldn't work outside the home at all.

Michael talked about his step-daughter as well, and Betty could see in him a true love and concern for the girl. "Have you spoken with her since all this began, the Red Flu. You said she was an immune, but you didn't tell me if she was safe."

When their day had finally come to a close and the two medical professionals were about to go their separate ways once again, Betty stepped up close to Michael and -- looking as nervous as a teenage wall flower talking to the All-Star Quarterback -- asked while unable to look the man in the eye, "Doctor, would you ... would you like to come to dinner ... dinner, with me ... at my home? I have a cabin ... #7. I'm, uh ... I'm sharing it with Molly and Madge now, but ... I, um ... they, um ... they're not going to be there tonight. They ... they're ... Charlie is having a girl's night ... poker and a bottle of the former Warden's Gin, I guess, so ... there won't be anyone there ... no one ... but me ... and you ... if you wanted ... you know, to come over ... for dinner."

Betty didn't realize until she finished that the entire time she'd been rambling, she'd been looking down at her fingers and they pulled and twisted at the fingers of a surgical glove. Suddenly, while tugging on it, it snapped at her, causing her to chuckled nervously and finally look up at the man of her lustful dreams.

 

[hzilfiger]

DAY 2

Michael "Doc" MacFarlane paid attention as Charlie laid out her concerns. It all made sense. Doc was impressed by Charlie's considerations of the wider issues. It was not just about making a comfortable stash with which to ride out the Red Flu; Charlie seemed genuinely concerned about the welfare of the New Society's residents.

"Yeah," he said, "you're right about poor general health. Prison population's never the healthiest though the restrictive diet and regular work does probably help, strangely. Being locked up probably lengthens the lives of some of our residents. We can get to work on reviewing the records and scheduling exams." He glanced at Betty, looking delightful as usual in her scrubs. He had to make a conscious effort not to stare. "We can do it together."

Betty's reply was also well considered, he thought.

"If we find the right pharmacy, most likely at a hospital or OB/GYN, we might be able to find IUDs, too." She looked to Michael, and in a part question, part statement, suggested, "I think we can perform the procedures, can't we?"

Michael nodded. "Absolutely.We'd just need a speculum to insert." For Charlie's benefit, he said. "That's the thing with jaws that goes inside the vagina. We'd need to pick those up as well. I'll add it to the list. Also, condoms. IUDs won't protect against sexually transmitted infections. I presume the, um, professional working ladies will insist on condoms? Regardless, we'll need antibiotics as well to treat gonorrhea, Chlamydia, trichomonas. HIV and hepatitis is a whole different kettle of fish, though. We won't be able to treat those."

He thought for a moment. "We won't be able to screen for all those risks. One resident with HIV infects one working lady and she becomes a vector that infects other clients." He grimaced. "That would be an absolute nightmare. It would be like when AIDS broke out in the 1980's." He shook his head. "We'd only know once the infected developed full-blown AIDS and started dropping dead. Too late." He looked at Charlie. "Professional opinion: I would advise the working ladies seriously insist on condoms." He paused. "Of course, their choice but maybe Betty and I can do some health education stuff so they feel empowered to insist. After all, they're entrepreneurs now, right?"

He glanced at Betty again. "We might be busier than we expected."

DAY 5

Betty's question had come out of the blue and it caught Michael between the eyes like a hollowpoint at point blank range.

They'd finished talking and Michael had gotten up to go to his cell. It had been a long day, one that ended, as seemed the case more often than not, with casual conversation. Their interactions were easier now, tilting unexpectedly into the personal without any sense of it being wrong.

Betty had asked about Ashley, Michael's step-daughter. It was the first time since his conviction that Michael had ever spoken about his former life. It had been easy to tell her about the relationship Michael had had with Ashley, the kind of relationships hostages form with each other in captivity.
He'd explained how Ashley's mother, Mindy, while a brilliant entrepreneur at work, was a fiercely insecure and controlling individual that made Michael and Ashley's lives a living hell. Michael left much out, things that he didn't want Betty to know, but what he did tell her was true: that he cared deeply for Ashley and was devastated (more than he showed) that he hadn't heard from her for over a year.

Betty, in turn, recognised a confidence given and paid back in kind. She spoke about her upbringing. Michael shook his head as she recounted having to look after her siblings and, later, her mother.

It resonated with Michael MacFarlane in more ways than Betty knew. His upbringing had been similar, though he'd been careful to bury that away under his professional cloak of being an MD. He'd grown up in a tiny tenement in the East End of Glasgow in Scotland, an area where the life-expectancy for men was worse than the Third World. Drugs, alcohol and poverty had laid these neighbourhoods low.

Michael's mother, Margaret, had raised him in her parents' flat, mother and child sharing a single bedroom, their existence cheek-by-jowl with Margaret's parents, staunch Catholics who had never had any idea how their daughter had turned out to be such an aberration. Margaret had been a wild child, getting involved with drugs and gangs from the age of thirteen. At sixteen, she ran away from home and returned, aged seventeen, with a baby, aged three months. Margaret and Michael were reminded of this on a daily basis. One day, Margaret left, never to return.

Michael grew up amongst the squalor and casual violence, returning home each evening to be reminded, each evening, about how his mother had turned out and "you'd better not be the same, young man, or it's oot you go."

Out he did go but it was of his own making. He did well in school and, against the odds, qualified for medical school, thanks to a programme introduced by the Labour government to improve accessibility to the underprivileged. Once he'd completed his internship, he set his sights on other horizons. Aged twenty-four, he left for Boston where he completed his residency. The last time he had visited Glasgow, just before getting his job as an attending in California, he had become someone else entirely. Even his accent was East Coast USA with nary a trace of East End Glasgow.

"Och, it's as if you don't want to know us," his grandmother had chided as he said goodbye to them for that last time. She was right. He didn't.

Thus it was that Betty's question drew him out of his meanderings with a short, sharp shock.

"Doctor, would you ... would you like to come to dinner ... dinner, with me ... at my home?"

Part of his brain followed the rest of her faltering discourse while the remainder went blank. He couldn't help noticing that Betty was pulling at the gloves in her hands. It was the snap that brought him back to the present.

Betty was looking at him. She had stopped talking. There was a silence.

He blinked thrice.

"Yes," he said, slowly, as if testing the word out. Then, faster, surer. "Yes. I'd like that very much."

Later that evening, Michael, briefly, wondered if it would have been simpler if he had said "No." The very idea of a "date" (because that's what it was, admit it, Michael) had unsettled his usual cool demeanour. It had been years since he'd been on one. And how the fuck did you do flowers in prison?

He'd managed as best he could. He took a mad scramble through the crop growing areas of the CCC and collected a selection of wildflowers that, when tarted up with fern leaves, made for a passable bouquet. There was no chance of a bottle of wine or a change of clothes. He did, though, manage to shave and scrub and change into a fresh set of scrubs rather than wear his prison uniform. It seemed important that they meet tonight as people in their own right rather than "residents of the New Society".

Thus it was that, makeshift bouquet in hand, Michael "Doc" MacFarlane, longtime orphan, expunged doctor and convicted drug peddler, knocked on the door of Cabin #7, wishing he had said "No" but thrilled that he had said "Yes."

 

[CutiePie1997]

Betty, being a civilian with a pre-Red Flu life that had included a sad but still existent dating life, did have clothing that went beyond prison issue Infirmary wear and was suitable for a date -- which, the Doc had wondered, it most certainly was in her mind as well.

When Doc knocked at the door of Cabin #7 and she opened it wide, Betty was wearing a rather revealing summer dress that readily showed off her modest and unbridled breasts, her thin waist and curvy hips, and long, lean legs, themselves enhanced further by a pair of 4 inch heels.

Her eyes widened and mouth fell open at the sight of the flowers. "Where...? How...? Michael! You're unbelievable."

She moved forward to take the bouquet, held them to her face for a deep sniff, looked up into the taller man's eyes, then reached a hand out to grasp one of his upper arms for support as she stood on her tippy toes to kiss him on the cheek.

"This is very sweet," she told him with a wide smile. "Thank you."

She backed away, then turned to cross toward the kitchen; the dress's looser fitting backside swished back and forth as her tight ass swayed and rolled with each step.

"Dinner's already almost done," she announced without looking back. She laughed, then turned to reveal a flushing face. "I'm not much of a cook, and I don't really keep anything special on hand, 'specially these days. I have to admit, it's all out of boxes and bags. But Maria came by earlier -- she's so sweet! -- and she brought me some spices and stuff to liven it up. I, um ... I hope you don't mind that she knows you're coming over for the--"

Betty went silently suddenly, an expression of horror on her face as she'd very nearly said for the night, as she hoped this evening would end. But quickly, she corrected, saying, "For dinner. Coming over for dinner."

She turned away to the little kitchenette again, knowing that her face was fire truck red from embarrassment.

 

[hzilfiger]

Any doubts that Michael might have had about that evening were dispelled as soon as Nurse Betty opened the door. The dress she was wearing seemed woven as much of air as of fabric. Her shoulders were bare, except for the cascade of golden hair and two thin straps. Straps that might be slipped easily over her sculpted shoulders.

Her eyes sparkled with delight as he handed her the bouquet. She leaned in towards him. The brush of her lips against his cheek burned so bright he felt he might have been branded. There was the merest brush of a breast against his chest, another brand this one, lighter but strangely hotter than the first. Her perfume lingered as she turned away: musk, spice, earth, speaking of rare treasure unearthed.

He felt more than heard the door shut behind him. His eyes followed her before his feet began to. Her heels accentuated the sway of her hips, flesh under fabric moving like an ocean. She did not, he noted, appear to be wearing a bra.

He followed her in, stopping only when she swung around. He'd moved his gaze off her ass just in time. He thought.

"I'm not much of a cook, and I don't really keep anything special on hand, 'specially these days. I have to admit, it's all out of boxes and bags. But Maria came by earlier -- she's so sweet! -- and she brought me some spices and stuff to liven it up. I, um ... I hope you don't mind that she knows you're coming over for the--"

Betty went silently suddenly, an expression of horror on her face

"For dinner. Coming over for dinner."

She turned away to the little kitchenette.

Doc closed his mouth. For the-? For the what? What had she meant to say? Evening? Meal? Chat? And why was her neck going red?

As always when his brain was working, Doc let his mouth do the covering up.

"No," he said, "I don't mind at all. And I'm sure it will be delicious. After four years of prison cooking, it'll be a real treat. I'm-, well, if I'm honest, I'm really touched you asked me, Betty."

He stepped into the doorway of the kitchenette.

"Gosh," he said, "this is really, um, compact."

It was true. There was barely enough space to swing a cat. And the enforced proximity enhanced his appreciation of her natural beauty; like a butterfly under a lens, her every dip, ripple and curve was amplified.

For the first time in a long time, Michael stood still and drunk in the heady brew of a woman's natural beauty.

 

[CutiePie1997]

(OOC: Continuing with Day 5, the night before the Casino Field Trip.)

Michael might have thought he'd lifted his gaze from Betty's ass in time not to get caught ogling, but he'd been more assuredly wrong. She quickly turned her head away from him again as a smile filled her face. She thought to herself, I picked the right dress after all.

Doc was correct in believing that Betty's firm, B-cup breasts were unbridled. And, if all went the way she was hoping, he would later find out that the lack of visible panty lines at her backside was due to a tiny thong with a front side small enough to hide in her opened hand.

"I'm-, well, if I'm honest, I'm really touched you asked me, Betty," Michael confessed as he stepped into the doorway of the kitchenette. "Gosh, this is really, um, compact."

"You should have seen three of us trying to prepare breakfast in the morning," She laughed. She looked to him and smiled devilishly. "Actually, you probably would have enjoyed that. Maxine and Susan and I were all Day Shift, which put us here at the same time, and usually -- between the three of us -- there wasn't enough clothing to fill one of those black house call bags the doctors used in the old '50s era movies."

She laughed again, imaging what Michael was himself imaging. Maxine and Susan had been beautiful women, more so than cute little Nurse Betty. Moving toward her guest, Betty playfully pushed him up against a counter so she could get to a drawer, then moved him again a moment later to get to the counter against which she'd originally shoved him.

"Maybe you better go sit in the living room," she finally said after they'd come into intimate contact a third time. "Charlie slipped me a bottle of wine from the Deputy Warden's stash. Open it, and I'll be out in a sec."

It only took her a few minutes to finish, resulting in her making three trips bringing out platters, bowls, and other containers filled with the meals constituent parts. She hesitated to see if he would pull out her chair for her; it was an old fashioned bit of chivalry, but then -- strangely -- the woman who had invited her boss over to fuck was in many ways an old fashioned girl herself.

"I hope you like it," she said once they were sat and dishing out the meal. "There's a little bit from across the food pyramid. Can't be serving a Doctor a heart clogging meal, can I?"

They chatted about her little home, with Betty explaining about how she'd kept it pretty much the way it was even after one of her roomies had died of the Red Flu and the other had left with the Warden and the other immunes. "I talked to Maria about auctioning some of the items off once Charlie and Lou have the bank set up and the money's handed out."

Her mood got a bit more solemn as she asked, "Do you think that's going to go alright tomorrow, the trip to the Casino? People are calling it a Field Trip. I think it's dangerous."

She hesitated again, asking with obvious concern, "They say you're going."

 

[hzilfiger]

As the evening progressed, Michael relaxed, became more of his former self. It was increasingly clear how this evening might end. Michael was looking forward to it.

The sensation of her hands on his body was pleasant as she moved him around the kitchenette. The second time, he resisted ever so slightly just so she would apply that little bit more pressure. The third, he hardly moved at all.

"Maybe you better go sit in the living room," she finally said.

He made a pouty face then did as she asked.

He poured the wine and, when Betty had finished setting the table, he did pull her chair out for her. Michael didn't have to think about it. It was the way he had been raised, manners and good conduct hammered into him by his grandparents at every available opportunity, to prevent him going astray like his absent mother.

The food was the best he had tasted in years but it did not take his attention away from her. Across the table, as they ate, he studied her every movement as she talked about her home and her plans for it.

"Do you think that's going to go alright tomorrow, the trip to the Casino? People are calling it a Field Trip. I think it's dangerous." She hesitated again, asking with obvious concern, "They say you're going."

He shrugged. "I offered. I can drive a truck. I drove a field hospital truck for MSF in Eritrea. And I want to see if we can stock up the Infirmary. There must be a pharmacy en route or maybe even in the casino itself. Dangerous? Maybe but Charlie seems to know what she's doing. She's a smart cookie. And we've got a couple of professionals coming along. That guy Steven. They say he's ex-military. And there's Diego as well."

He looked up at her. "How about you? Are you going along? Or should I say cumming along?"

He wondered if she would read the double meaning in the word. He hoped she would - he missed seeing her blush.

 

[CutiePie1997]

It was good to hear that Michael would have some professional soldiers along on the Field Trip. She knew that the team had to have a Medic with them, but she couldn't imagine the Doc not coming back to Three-C ... or to her.

"How about you? Are you going along? Or should I say cumming along?"

Despite her brain being flooded off and on with dirty thoughts regarding him, Betty missed the suggestive wording of his question as she imagined being out there in that wild, dangerous world. With certainty, she said, "No, no, no way, uh-uh. I'm, uh ... no, it's ... it's not a place I want to be right now. Believe it or not, I feel safer here, in prison, surrounded by former murderers and rapists who are no longer locked behind bars."

Betty thought about the men who were still locked away. "The worst of the worst are locked up. I wonder if Charlie had decided what's to be done with them."

She couldn't know that while Charlie and the others were visiting the Casino tomorrow, Harvey would be taking the Day One violators of her New Society rules to the other side of the river and dumping off them off. She also couldn't know that Harvey would execute the man who'd attempted to rape Kirstin and the man who had incited the beating of a rival gang member, or that Yanni would stab the man who'd stabbed and nearly killed him as well. (OOC: See this post.)

"No, I'm going to sit right here by the fire and wait for you to come home to--"

Betty stopped suddenly, yet again blushing as she realized she'd been about to say to me. She looked away, sipped some wine, and failed to hide her embarrassed smirk. She pushed her mostly empty plate back and said, "Let's sit by the fire, since we're talking about it."

She stood and circled around the table to near the hearth. The cabin's were small and rather ancient, and each had been built with a wood burning fireplace. Some of them had cast iron inserts now, but this one still had the classic, open look that Betty remembered from her grandparents home on Christmas mornings.

Even though there were comfortable arm chairs near the hearth, Betty sat on a faux-polar bear rug. She set her wine glass aside as she looked up at the object of her lust and patted her hand on the thick, synthetic fiber.

Michael took a seat next to her, and without hesitation Betty lifted the lower hem of her was wearing dress up to her waist, freeing up her legs to allow her to crawl up into his lap, revealing the tiny black white thong that was barely there.

"Michael..." she whispered before wrapping her arms around his neck and head and pressing her mouth to his in a passionate kiss. She ground her womanhood against his crotch in desperation, then whispered to him, "I haven't been with a man since I divorced my husband ... five years ago."

 

[hzilfiger]

Michael hadn't expected things to progress so fast. She was almost straddling him now. The skirt of her dress was up above her waist. Before she'd climbed into his lap, he caught a glimpse of her thong, a sliver of silk, disappearing between her pussy lips.

Her mouth was hot and moist as it clamped onto his. He sucked at her lips, probed between them with his tongue, feeling them open in welcome.

He was instantly hard. He clutched her to him in a fierce embrace, swivelling his hips so that the bulge of his cock rubbed against her cunt.

With one hand, he flipped the straps of her dress over her shoulders then reached down and, with his thumb, found a nipple.

He pulled away from their kiss.

"Let's make up for lost time, babe."

 

[CutiePie1997]

The instant explosion of passion had surprised Betty nearly as much as it had Michael. The feel of his hands upon her -- caressing, groping -- caused an almost painful chill to run up her back, and she gasped at the jolt of pleasure from his pinching her nipple.

Betty had wanted this all day, had wanted this all week; in truth, if she were able to consciously consider it, she'd realize she'd wanted this since she'd first seen the inmate doctor with his first patient years ago, just shortly after coming to work at Three-C.

When she felt Doc's bulge against her pussy, Betty began shoving herself forward and back over him, begging, "I need you in me, Michael, please! I need you in me ... here, now ... please, Michael."

 

[hzilfiger]

Wow, Michael thought, she's already in fifth gear. And shifting up.

The dress was fully off her shoulders, now just a puddle of fabric around her waist. It was no difficult matter for him to push her onto her back with the weight of his body until she was lying on the fur looking up at him. Her nipples were achingly erect. Her tongue played over her lips.

He sat back on his haunches, took in the sight then hooked two fingers around her thong and dragged it off her. She lifted her legs to let him slip the thong off her ankles, giving him a glimpse of that amazing ass. He let her legs drift down to either side so he was kneeling between them. The sweet, heady scent of her dripping sex reached him. It nearly drove him mad.

He tore his scrub shirt off then, in haste, undid the tie at his waist and got to his feet to step out of them. His cock sprung forth, longer and harder than he had ever been in his life. A drop of pre-cum glistened at the very tip, a pearl.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Betty had expected Doc's cock to be nice sized from the bulge she'd already witnessed, but when it sprung out of it clothing, fully hardened and ready for action, her eyes bulged, her mouth fell open, a gasp escaped, and she murmured with awe, "Jee ... sus. Michael, I ... oh, God..."

His length of 10 inches was impressive enough alone, a full 4 inches longer than that of her Ex-husband's moderately size cock. But the girth of it was ... well ... it was frightening! No, he wasn't packing a '70s porno king's 2x4 pole. But it was the thickest piece of meat Betty had seen with her own two eyes, and she'd participated in dozens of exams or emergency procedures -- here at Three-C and before that in her first position at Clark County General Hospital -- that had resulted in her at least getting a glimpse at men's penises. No cock she'd seen could have compared.

"Michael, I'm ... oh, Michael," Betty murmured, sounding suddenly reluctant to continue. She stared at his shaft with its bulbous head, then looked up at him with a shocked look telling him, "Michael ... I..."

She laughed nervously, telling him, "There's no way that's gonna fit in me!"

She laughed again, staring at his manhood, clarifying, "I haven't had sex in five years, and ... oh, God ... that'll hurt me."

Betty might as well have been a virgin at this point in her life. Oh, sure, she had a vibrator she'd used whenever she'd had the cabin to herself. But it was just a Buzz Bunny for stimulating her clitoris; it wasn't a dildo, and Betty had never played around with such things as bananas, cucumbers, or even the rounded handle of a hair brush, seeking the feel of a man inside of her.

 

[hzilfiger]

"There's no way that's gonna fit in me!"

Michael grinned. He was no stranger to this reaction. What most men would consider a gift whas, in fact, something of a disability but, as with most limitations, Michael had found that it could be overcome.

He kneeled between her legs, leaned over to kiss her deeply then put a finger on her lips.

"Sshh," he whispered into her ear. The underside of his cock pressed into her pussy lips. He began grinding it against her so the length of it slid up and down. "Sshh. Trust me. Just. Relax. We'll just take it slow." He kissed her again. "There's no hurry."

He let his finger slide off her lips, down her chin, her neck, between her breasts, down the line of her belly. It lingered briefly over the nub of her clit before slipping down. Her pussy lips parted. Her honey was thick.

He found the heat of her pussy and, inch by inch, slid his finger into her.

 

[CutiePie1997]

Betty's body instinctively moved opposite Michael's, helping to cause a great length of his great length to slip up and down her wet slit. A desperate expression filled her face; it had been so horribly long.

When his finger slipped into her hole, the tips of Betty's modest nails sunk into his sides where her hands had been clutching him. Oh, she wasn't trying to do him harm, of course, but by the time this night was through, they would find scratches all up and down the Doc's body from shoulders to ass cheeks, some of which had very nearly drawn blood.

Michael's finger was doing its job: it was making her want more. She shoved her pussy up around his digit, begging, "More."