by Lily Harlem
I stepped backwards, stared at Carl and mouthed, ‘What the hell?’
He shrugged and looked through the window again. I got the feeling he’d seen it before. How he’d stumbled upon this gem of inappropriateness between two of the hospital’s most senior members of staff, including his boss, I had no idea. But I had to grant him major kudos for it, being that he was just a junior house officer and all.
Quickly I resumed my voyeurism, eager not to miss one single nugget of the extreme wickedness and what would, of course, be gold-plated gossip should I need it.
Carl into drugs. How ridiculous had I been?
‘Nurse Smith, I do believe you’ve been neglectful of your duties,’ Hartley said, strolling towards a trolley set out with various instruments. ‘I asked you specifically to set up for appendicectomy not splenectomy.’
‘I am so sorry, doctor. I will see to it straight away.’ Emily spoke in a high-pitched, sing-song voice, not her normal tone at all. She then practically skipped towards the steel trolley, her insanely short skirt flashing white knickers as she bent and began to fuss with the silver instruments.
‘It’s too late for that. How will you have everything autoclaved in time for the arrival of the patient?’ He stepped up behind her, his gaze going to her half-exposed rump.
‘I’m sure I can, really.’ She fussed with the metal implements. They rattled on the polished trolley surface, and as she fiddled she wriggled her hips, with small, inviting little movements.
‘No, it’s simply impossible to get everything sterilised so quickly.’ He flicked up the tiny flap of material that was considered to be a skirt and exposed her twitching behind.
‘Oh, doctor,’ she squealed, straightening and slipping out of his reach. ‘Whatever are you doing?’
He moved towards her. ‘I’m going to teach you a lesson, Nurse Smith, one that you’ll never forget.’
‘Oh, but Doctor Hartley, I really don’t think –’
‘Be quiet,’ he said sternly, ‘and take your punishment as a good little nurse should, for I don’t intend to find again that you’ve prepared the wrong tray for me.’ He grabbed her upper arms, pulled her close, so they were chest to chest and his mouth hovered over hers. ‘Are you ready to receive your punishment?’
‘Oh, but –’
‘Yes or no.’ His voice was almost a growl; it was a way I’d heard him speak many times when he was pissed off at someone’s ineptitude.
Emily melted against him, her body relaxing into his tough grip and his words having apparently taking the substance from her knees.
I would never have put the two of them together, him being at least a decade older than her and known for being a workaholic and a lothario. She’d always seemed career-focused and sensible. Just went to show, opposites attract. And this doctor-nurse game? Hadn’t they had enough of the real thing all damn day?
‘Yes or no?’ he said again, tugging her close.
‘Oh, I’m so sorry, please forgive me, sir.’
‘Maybe if you take what you deserve well I’ll be able to see a way to forgive you, but I won’t forget. That kind of incompetence cannot be simply forgotten, you know.’
‘Yes, of course, oh – Doctor –’
He spun her, quickly, roughly, and tipped her over the surgical table. With one deft flick of his wrist her knickers were half-mast and the globes of her arse bared.
‘You know what bad nurses get, don’t you?’ Hartley said, pressing between her shoulder blades with one hand and using the other to rub her quivering buttocks.
‘Yes, sir. I do, sir.’
‘Say it.’
‘A … a spanking, sir.’
‘Louder.’
‘A spanking, sir.’
‘Yes, a good spanking. Ten strikes at least.’
‘Ten, oh no, not ten.’
‘Yes, ten. Perhaps that way you’ll know not to displease me again.’
He whacked her exposed buttocks hard, with genuine male muscle behind it. The stinging sound of flesh connecting with flesh rang around the theatre as did her yelp.
‘Keep still,’ he ordered, flattening her when she tried to rise. ‘Keep still and take it.’
‘Oh, please.’
‘And start counting.’ He brought down another blow, to the opposite cheek this time.
Emily squealed again. Her body jerked. I felt my own bum tingle. It had been years since I’d played any spanking games.
‘Two,’ she said through a pant.
‘No, that’s one, the first was a practice.’
‘Oh …’ she groaned, twisting her head on the cold steel table and gripping the edge. She’d screwed her eyes up tight and rolled her lips in on themselves.
Hartley hit again, then again, his white coat flapping as he slapped and his erection jolting up against his abdomen then springing back down to a horizontal position. The look on his face was one of pure dominance; a steely set jaw, wide excited eyes and a mouth drawn into a tight, firm line.
Emily counted between yelps. ‘Two. Three. Four.’ She tried to stand again; her punishment clearly pained her, even in the dull light I could see colour rising on her buttocks.
‘Keep still or you’ll get twenty strikes,’ Hartley said severely. But despite his tone he rubbed his palm soothingly over her arse, as if pacifying the blanching skin.
She moaned and widened her legs.
‘Are you taking your punishment well?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sir, oh, yes.’
‘Let me see.’ He stroked down her cleft and inserted two, maybe three, fingers between her legs.
‘Ah …’ she gasped, her spine stiffening.
I clenched my thigh muscles. There was no denying the fact that I was getting turned-on watching their little show. There was a heat building in my pelvis and my clit was swelling, buzzing with a rush of blood.
I glanced at Carl. He was staring through the window, wide-eyed, lips parted. I wished I could see if he had a hard on. I’d bet my last pound that he did. What guy wouldn’t get stiff seeing a hot nurse spanked and fingered?
Swallowing tightly and pressing the tops of my legs together, I returned my attention to the theatre.
‘Yes, you’re nice and wet, taking your punishment very well,’ Hartley said, ‘but you still have six more strikes to endure.’
He hit her again, a real wallop that made the flesh on her buttock ripple and shake.
‘Five,’ she gasped then moaned as he shunted his fingers higher, hand-fucking her pussy diligently and methodically.
More strikes rained down.
She cried out and groaned, ‘Six. Seven, eight, nine.’
‘Are you ready for the last one?’ he asked, leaning forward and slotting his rigid cock into the cleft of her buttocks.
‘Yes, oh, yes.’
‘And have you learnt your lesson?’
‘I have, sir, oh, I have. Please.’
‘Please what?’
‘Please, my last one, my last spank.’
He reared up, pulled his fingers from her and positioned the head of his cock at her entrance. He thrust into her and as he maxed out, balls deep, he struck her soundly across both buttocks.
Emily arched her back, her spine as tight as a bowstring. She opened her mouth but no sound came out. She clutched the table, trying, it seemed, to stop herself from being shunted completely off it.
I licked my lips, teeth and gums – my mouth was dry. Oh, she was getting it good. Who would have thought old Hartley had it in him to bang so enthusiastically and with such an adorable sprinkle of kink?
My nipples were tingling, my breaths coming faster. I was aware of my hips flexing ever so slightly as Hartley pumped into her, over and over. His white coat was flicking and flapping with his lurching movements. He’d gritted his teeth and was grasping Emily’s hips, pulling her onto himself at the same time as he pounded into her.
‘Oh, God, oh, oh …’ Emily squirmed, her feet rising off the floor, her body a slave to hi
s powerful lunges.
‘Yes, yes, call me God,’ he snapped.
‘God, oh please, sir.’
‘God.’
‘God, oh, I’m coming now, please, can I, God?’
‘Yes, yes come now.’ He reached for her hair, a high ponytail on her crown, and tugged.
Her whole body rose. Her breasts juddered within the confines of the tiny nurse outfit, her back became a deep curve, and then she came.
The sounds of her gasping and panting through her orgasm made my knickers wet and a knot of need tightened in my stomach. Oh, she was coming good and hard. Just what I needed after the last few hours. An off-the-scale, mind-altering climax would do quite nicely to make me forget everything for a few moments.
‘Ah, yes, you naughty, naughty nurse,’ Hartley shouted then flung back his head and groaned through his final strokes to satisfaction.
I shifted my feet and realised I was holding my breath and my hands were clenched into sweaty fists. Damn, I was horny for it. I wanted what they’d just had, not necessarily with the flouncy outfit and the red arse, but a damn good shagging.
I reached for Carl, curled my fingers with his, and noticed that his palm was damp, like mine.
He looked at me and gave a lopsided grin. There was a slight sheen of sweat over his top lip.
I jerked my head towards the door. It was definitely time to get the hell out, before we were either discovered or my rampant, libidinous side let loose and I hurled myself at the nearest available male.
Carl!
After a last glance into the theatre, the object of my desire nodded and we sneaked back through the anaesthetic room, out into the corridor and into the dark cupboard we’d come through.
I stopped.
So did Carl.
‘Oh my God,’ I whispered when the door shut, enveloping us in darkness. ‘How the bloody Nora did you know they were in there, doing that?’
There was a small click and a bare bulb overhead gave out a pale light. We were surrounded by brown cardboard boxes full of bags of intravenous fluid.
Carl released the light pull and it bounced towards the wall. He shoved his hand through his hair and puffed out his flushed cheeks. ‘I had to come down here last week, in the middle of the night, to get some Gelo for Eyre Ward. I was on my own, didn’t bother to turn any lights on, and went out of the wrong door, ended up in theatres.’
‘It wasn’t locked?’
‘No, I suppose someone forgot, keeps forgetting. Anyway, you can imagine my surprise when I heard a bang and a grunt from theatre three, I went to investigate and saw old Hartley with his junk out and about to diddle his scrub nurse.’
‘Jesus.’ I let out a low whistle of disbelief. ‘You’d think they’d go somewhere private and play, wouldn’t you?’
He shrugged and ran his finger around the collar of his shirt. ‘I’m guessing it gives them a kick, doing it in there.’
‘You think so?’
‘Yes, absolutely, catching each other’s eye the next day over a patient. A theatre full of staff and only them knowing they were fucking like a couple of horny teenagers on that very table the night before.’
I shook my head. ‘Yeah, I guess you’re right. Must be quite a turn-on pretending there’s nothing between them and waiting for the place to clear out.’
Carl looked cute as a button. His slightly unkempt, unshaven style, with his tired, bespectacled eyes and his easy smile had definite appeal.
‘You’d think they’d worry, though,’ I said, stepping up close and touching the askew name badge on his white coat.
‘About what?’
‘That someone might see them at it.’
‘At it?’ There was a definite sparkle in his work-weary eyes.
‘Yeah, at it, screwing. They should have picked a nice, dark cupboard.’ I slipped my hands over his shoulders, drew my mouth close to his. ‘One with no windows, no prying eyes, or nosy colleagues.’
‘Like this one?’
‘Yeah, just like this one,’ I whispered.
‘Mmm.’
I pressed my lips to his and was pleasantly surprised by the soft willingness of his mouth and his small intake of breath.
He held my face, his big hands gentle on my cheeks and his fingers just slotting into my hair, over my ears.
The kiss deepened, our tongues tangled and I leaned my chest to his. He slanted his head and explored my mouth with a sense of passion and reverence. He tasted fresh, of water and mint. That lovely lemony scent of his that made me think of Mediterranean holidays swirled around me. A whimper of approval rumbled up from my chest and I ached for some action. I reckoned Carl was the perfect man for the job. If just his kiss had me throbbing, imagine how I’d feel when I actually got him inside me, pumping and grinding.
I slid my hands down his chest, over his pale-blue shirt to the buckle of his trousers.
‘Sharon,’ he murmured through our kiss.
‘Carl?’ I whispered, exploring lower, over his groin. I found what I was hunting for – a lovely, long hardness straining against his zipper.
‘Please,’ he said, releasing my cheeks.
‘Please what?’ I squeezed him again then gave a firm stroke, base to tip. Wonderful, he was swollen and full and I could even make out the flare of his glans through the material. How fast could we get naked?
He groaned and reached for my wrists, held them tight as I worked his erection through the material.
‘Bloody hell,’ he gasped, his hips rocking towards me and then away.
‘You want me to suck you?’ I asked, speaking against his lips.
‘Fuck. No.’
I hesitated. It wasn’t often a guy refused a blow job. ‘You just want to shag then?’
‘No, yes, I mean …’
‘What do you mean?’ I kissed over his cheek, found his ear and touched my tongue to the fleshy lobe. Cupped his balls with one hand and at the same time hunted for the zipper of his trousers and began to pull it down.
‘I mean I don’t, I don’t want to …’ He yanked my hands upwards, so they were captured between our faces. ‘I don’t want to do anything.’ His voice was harsh, firm.
I jolted, surprised by his sudden movement and shocked by his statement.
He was staring at me intently, his eyes wild and his lips wet from our kiss.
‘Oh,’ I said, shock and confusion muddling in my mind. Didn’t he fancy me? Was he gay? No, I didn’t think either was the case. The hardness in his pants told an entirely different story. ‘But I thought … you’ve got a …’
He swallowed, the sound noisy in the small room, and then blinked, long and slow, and sucked in a deep breath.
‘But you’ve got a –’ I said.
‘Tell me about it.’ His mouth twisted, as though he was in pain, and he gazed intently at me.
‘And you don’t want to do something about it?’ I licked my lips and smiled my sweetest smile. ‘I’m happy to oblige. We’ve been putting this off for months now. You and me, naked, it’s inevitable.’
‘I know.’
‘And?’
‘And yes, I would like to do something about it, with you. Soon.’
That was more like it. I tried to step in close again but he kept me at a distance with outstretched hands. Like I was some kind of sex monster about to rape him.
‘Carl?’ Now he was hurting my feelings.
‘I’m sorry, it’s just …’
I tugged at my wrists and he released them. My body was humming. I was hot for it but it seemed I wasn’t going to be getting any. ‘What. It’s just what?’ I snapped.
‘I like you,’ he said, reaching out and touching my cheek. ‘I mean I really like you.’
‘So what’s the problem?’ I couldn’t help my pout.
He shook his head and looked down at his feet.
‘Tell me, damn it. You drag me here to watch a damn sex show that gets me all horny for it, and then bring me in a dark cupboard, kiss me –’
> ‘You kissed me.’
‘Semantics, you were into it as much as I was.’ I folded my arms, tapped my foot on the floor.
He shrugged. ‘OK, I’m not denying it, I’ve been thinking about kissing you for weeks. I can’t help staring at your mouth, whenever you talk, it’s just so pretty.’
He liked my pretty mouth? ‘So why don’t you want to take it further?’ I frowned. ‘What’s the issue?’
‘I told you.’ He stepped closer.
I backed up and my shoulders hit shelving. I could go nowhere. He kept moving, until his face was near to mine, so near I could see two small freckles on the rise of his left cheek and make out the individual dots of stubble on his jawline and over his top lip.
‘I like you,’ he said in a low, steady voice. ‘I really like you and I happen to have a rule with girls I really like.’
‘What’s that,’ I whispered, realising that despite my irritation I was actually enjoying the fact that he’d backed me up and was looming over me with a decidedly determined glint in this eyes.
‘I take girls I like out to dinner before I sleep with them.’
I nearly choked. ‘You want to take me to dinner?’ Damn, it had been years since I’d had a date, just as long since I’d had a normal relationship. These days it was all about immediate satisfaction. Grabbing a bit of how’s-your-father when I could. It was for the best, it protected my heart but kept my body satisfied.
He frowned. ‘What’s so weird about that?’
‘It’s just …’ I paused. ‘Do you have a no-fucking-on-a-first-date rule too?’
He rubbed the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. ‘No, absolutely not. We can count that as dessert, if you want.’
He brushed his lips to mine and damn if I didn’t get a silly little gooey feeling in my chest. Carl liked me, like-liked me, and wanted to take me on a date before we jumped into bed. It was almost romantic.
‘So what do you think, Sharon? Will you allow me to take you to dinner on Friday night? I know a really cute country pub a couple of miles from Skipton. Great food, candles, fine wine, cosy little corners and log fires.’
‘It sounds like something from a soppy movie.’
‘It’s real life. Perhaps you just need to do something other than work and sleep so you remember what that is.’
