jp55665566
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Jun 2, 2018
- Posts
- 4,256
"If war is hell, nurses are angels" ~ Hemingway
Chapter One
I could still hear the clamor of mechanized war. The vehicles; trucks, tanks, planes, and the heavy guns, the explosions. I could still feel my hands too, but they were gone. This hospital bed is like a cloud, all white and soft. I wished something terrible. I wished I were dead. There was another guy, another wounded soldier, on the other side of the room, behind a cloth partition. He had the window, but was missing a leg. Gallows humor: would I rather have lost a leg, than my hands? Ha ha. A mental game. At least he could jag-off. Did you ever try to masturbate with no hands? No.
Less than a mile away, 11 pm came too early. Lara Yevtushenko stretched out her arm in a casual, languid arc to kill the alarm. Turning back to cuddle into the warmth of her husband Yuri's strong body, she was stunned yet again to realize he wasn't there; he would never be there again. The damn war. She laid a hand into her sex and let the other massage her breasts. It wouldn't take long. She made love with her husband's memory, pushing two long fingers into the soft, warm fold between her thick, tender labia. Gazing at the photo on her bedside table, Yuri's warm brown eyes sparkled back at her. As she made her cum with a sharp, staccato gasp, his handsome face and perfectly groomed mustache yielded a wry, little smile, as if he knew, even now, how very much she needed him.
Having the kind of natural beauty that required little maintenance or make-up, a quick brush through her long, soft auburn hair was all she really needed. But she took an extra minute to apply a little moisturizer to her full, pouting lips.
As a civilian, paid-volunteer at the military hospital, Lara didn't have all the perquisites of a licensed registered nurse, just a locker and an ill-fitting hand-me-down uniform. It was a struggle to fit her generous bosom into the too small, white/candy-striped working shift.
Assigned to the convalescent wing for injured soldiers. 6 rooms to monitor. Pretty quiet. Room 306. Patients transferred in. making rounds every hour. gets used to seeing bulging sheets, even semen stains when stripping beds.
As time wore on, Lara felt a duty of sorts, to comfort the men who suffered while fighting for her country. They were all attractive young men. Scarred by war, but not repulsively obese like the doctor who continually made passes at her.
Her first rounds were just after midnight. The soft-soled shoes she wore left her presence unannounced along the grey-tiled corridor of the rooms she monitored. Unintentionally stealthy, she would enter each room quietly, just checking to see that each bed was occupied, and the men comfortable. Several of the men stayed awake just to see her, or pretended to be asleep while she drifted past their beds. The light perfume she wore often brought secret smiles to the half-sleeping faces of the men she cared for.
At the end of the hall, her tummy pulled into a little knot. Room 303. The young private was recovering from a bullet wound in his backside, but the injury didn't seem to suppress the erection he seemed always to have. His eyes were closed, but opened as soon as she entered. A handsome boy, he feigned a little moaning grimace when Lara asked him how he was doing.
"My stomach hurts," he groaned.
Lara stepped to the bedside, gazing down at the boy ensconced in hospital sheets, placing her fingers lightly at his abdomen.
"Here?", she asked.
"A little lower," he sniffled faintly.
It was obvious he was naked, his penis bulging beneath the sheet.
"I can't," she told him; but rubbed his stomach gently with the palm of her hand.
It wouldn't be the first time she'd "helped" one of the young soldiers. She knew how difficult it was, at times, to manage sexual urges.
As she half-sat on the edge of his bed, a bit of flesh at the soft swell of her bosom was exposed to his hungry eyes. He stared and nearly craned his neck in an attempt to see into the gap, and beneath her clothing.
A heavy sigh came from his open mouth, as the bulge at his crotch swaggered and seemed to grow.
"I could get in trouble," she whispered at him; "Is this where it hurts?"
Lara let her hand smooth easily over the long arc of maleness, pulsing beneath the sheet.
The boy gasped and twisted breathlessly in the mattress as the nurse's delicate hand closed around his organ, squeezing gently.
"Ahh, yes..." he croaked, spine suddenly arcing as his hips lifted into the delicious contact.
"Shhh, quiet now," she said softly, and began to simulate an act of coitus with her hand. Tugging at him. Sliding her fist up and down, using the bedsheet as a sheath over his erection.
Chapter One
I could still hear the clamor of mechanized war. The vehicles; trucks, tanks, planes, and the heavy guns, the explosions. I could still feel my hands too, but they were gone. This hospital bed is like a cloud, all white and soft. I wished something terrible. I wished I were dead. There was another guy, another wounded soldier, on the other side of the room, behind a cloth partition. He had the window, but was missing a leg. Gallows humor: would I rather have lost a leg, than my hands? Ha ha. A mental game. At least he could jag-off. Did you ever try to masturbate with no hands? No.
Less than a mile away, 11 pm came too early. Lara Yevtushenko stretched out her arm in a casual, languid arc to kill the alarm. Turning back to cuddle into the warmth of her husband Yuri's strong body, she was stunned yet again to realize he wasn't there; he would never be there again. The damn war. She laid a hand into her sex and let the other massage her breasts. It wouldn't take long. She made love with her husband's memory, pushing two long fingers into the soft, warm fold between her thick, tender labia. Gazing at the photo on her bedside table, Yuri's warm brown eyes sparkled back at her. As she made her cum with a sharp, staccato gasp, his handsome face and perfectly groomed mustache yielded a wry, little smile, as if he knew, even now, how very much she needed him.
Having the kind of natural beauty that required little maintenance or make-up, a quick brush through her long, soft auburn hair was all she really needed. But she took an extra minute to apply a little moisturizer to her full, pouting lips.
As a civilian, paid-volunteer at the military hospital, Lara didn't have all the perquisites of a licensed registered nurse, just a locker and an ill-fitting hand-me-down uniform. It was a struggle to fit her generous bosom into the too small, white/candy-striped working shift.
Assigned to the convalescent wing for injured soldiers. 6 rooms to monitor. Pretty quiet. Room 306. Patients transferred in. making rounds every hour. gets used to seeing bulging sheets, even semen stains when stripping beds.
As time wore on, Lara felt a duty of sorts, to comfort the men who suffered while fighting for her country. They were all attractive young men. Scarred by war, but not repulsively obese like the doctor who continually made passes at her.
Her first rounds were just after midnight. The soft-soled shoes she wore left her presence unannounced along the grey-tiled corridor of the rooms she monitored. Unintentionally stealthy, she would enter each room quietly, just checking to see that each bed was occupied, and the men comfortable. Several of the men stayed awake just to see her, or pretended to be asleep while she drifted past their beds. The light perfume she wore often brought secret smiles to the half-sleeping faces of the men she cared for.
At the end of the hall, her tummy pulled into a little knot. Room 303. The young private was recovering from a bullet wound in his backside, but the injury didn't seem to suppress the erection he seemed always to have. His eyes were closed, but opened as soon as she entered. A handsome boy, he feigned a little moaning grimace when Lara asked him how he was doing.
"My stomach hurts," he groaned.
Lara stepped to the bedside, gazing down at the boy ensconced in hospital sheets, placing her fingers lightly at his abdomen.
"Here?", she asked.
"A little lower," he sniffled faintly.
It was obvious he was naked, his penis bulging beneath the sheet.
"I can't," she told him; but rubbed his stomach gently with the palm of her hand.
It wouldn't be the first time she'd "helped" one of the young soldiers. She knew how difficult it was, at times, to manage sexual urges.
As she half-sat on the edge of his bed, a bit of flesh at the soft swell of her bosom was exposed to his hungry eyes. He stared and nearly craned his neck in an attempt to see into the gap, and beneath her clothing.
A heavy sigh came from his open mouth, as the bulge at his crotch swaggered and seemed to grow.
"I could get in trouble," she whispered at him; "Is this where it hurts?"
Lara let her hand smooth easily over the long arc of maleness, pulsing beneath the sheet.
The boy gasped and twisted breathlessly in the mattress as the nurse's delicate hand closed around his organ, squeezing gently.
"Ahh, yes..." he croaked, spine suddenly arcing as his hips lifted into the delicious contact.
"Shhh, quiet now," she said softly, and began to simulate an act of coitus with her hand. Tugging at him. Sliding her fist up and down, using the bedsheet as a sheath over his erection.
Last edited:
