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A couple summers ago, I began to develop back problems. Nothing serious at first, just a slight discomfort. However, it soon progressed to occasional pain, then more often, and eventually it became nearly constant..

One day I tried to get up out of my easy chair — and I couldn’t move. Every minor motion sent needles of sharp crippling pain through my lower back. After managing to crawl to my phone, I called my brother. He came over and assessed the situation and we decided to go the ambulance route.

So a few hours later I’m lying in the ER after having been diagnosed with a disc problem. The on-call physician said I’d be fine with some treatment, therapy, and exercise, but it was going to be a few weeks. Unfortunately, two of those weeks I’d be mostly flat on my back in the hospital.

Life on the ward wasn’t so bad. I had at least one visitor every day, the TV service was decent (and fairly reasonable weekly rate), food passable, and the nurses were great. Though there wasn’t exactly a smorgasbord of “Charlie’s Angels” from which to choose, the majority were pleasant to look at, and those that weren’t were pleasant in general. I got along great with all of them.

Sometimes … too great!

For example: my condition made showering possible only by getting me into a wheelchair and rolling me right into a special stall. Even at that, however, it could be quite painful if it wasn’t done at my peak painkiller times. And, if we missed the window, we’d usually by-pass the full shower for a sponge-bath.

Well, as more and more days passed without me being able to, shall we say, attain self-fulfillment, those sponge baths started to become a problem. If the nurse helping me was anything over a 4, within moments of her gently stroking and dabbing at me, I’d be doing some serious saluting!

One day the head nurse on the night shift, Mary, came in. She was about 5 years older than my 40, fit, nice-sized though not large tits, strawberry blonde hair, and a slightly pear butt. (Perfectly padded, in my opinion.) In all, very nice to look at. “Tom, Sherry said you declined a sponge bath.”

I was a bit flustered. “Unh, yeah. Just didn’t feel like one.”

“Well, let me be frank, hun: you need one! I’m going to send her back in, OK?” And she started to exit.

I stopped her. “Um, Mary … there’s a reason,” I began haltingly. She waited expectantly. I added, “I get, shall we say, embarrassed.”

Mary had been here before. Ever the professional, she tried to assure me. “It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, Tom.” She pushed my door closed and approached me. “Does it happen only with her?”

I shook my head. “Originally, yes. But for the last couple, I’d had to hide what the sponge bath was causing, no matter who was washing.” (Not that there was much there to hide. Erect, I was a shade over 4 inches, and slightly bigger around than a half-dollar roll.)

“Are you very active sexually? Or can’t you discuss this comfortably?”

With another nurse, I might’ve had a problem, but I sort of had a bond with her. “Not really, not with a partner. No S. O. for a couple years now. But still active. I used to, shall we say, `self serve’ almost daily before I hurt my back.”

“And since you hurt it?” I just shook my head. This made her pause a moment. Casibom “So what are we talking about? 10 days?”

I thought about it a second. “Closer to two weeks.”

She was obviously suppressing a giggle, but I wasn’t offended. “Wow. Blue balls much?” She grinned, but with empathy. “How come you haven’t? Privacy problem?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Little tough to get anything going, never knowing when someone is going to come blowing through the door.”

“I can make sure you have all the time you need. Stand guard, so to speak.” She appeared to muse a moment, then added, “Unless you knowing that I’m knowing that’s what you’re doing will be a problem?”

It was my turn to chuckle. “A problem? Ha … probably more the opposite.” We both blushed then. “Don’t be offended, but if I knew that you knew that’s what I was doing, it’d probably be even more powerful for me.” She was blushing furiously now, but from her facial reaction, I could tell she was pleased.

“But that’s not the only problem,” I continued. “I have tried a couple times, very late at night when I knew a skeleton crew was on. But when I start to get … ‘animated’ … my back pain starts to kick in something fierce. I just can’t twist my body quite right. That was true even for several days before my admittance here.” I shrugged, and waited for her reply.

“OK,” she finally said. “First off, no, I’m not offended. As someone once said, `more the opposite.’ ” She offered that sweet smile. “Second off-Tom, you could use a full shower, actually. You reek! But failing that, at minimum, you do need that sponge bath.” She was right. I realized people get used to their own BO, and I’d completely lost all ability to smell mine. So, I nodded acquiescence. “So I can send Sherry back? And you’ll not worry about what nature delivers?”

I sighed. I really was hoping she’d take the hint and offer to do it herself, but as charge nurse it wasn’t really her place. So I nodded. “OK. But can you warn her what may happen? And pretend you didn’t tell her, and I’ll pretend you weren’t pretending, and we can all pretend nothing ever happened.” And we both chuckled as she left to get Sherry.

I started trying to run things through my mind. My grandmother. My smelly grandmother. My smelly grandmother number two-ing in the woods.

Hey! This might work!

“Hi Tom! Mary said you’d reconsidered the sponge bath?”


I smiled at her. “Sure, go for it.” She smiled back, and carried a bin of warm water to my bedside table. She folded back the light blanket and sheet, then untied the top of my hospital gown.

“Can you sit up?” she asked me. I gave it an effort, and even though it was painful, I was able to arise into a sitting position. “Great! Nice job. Does it hurt much?” I lied and shook my head. Actually, I was concentrating so hard on the pain, it had an added effect: no erection!

Sherry pulled the top of my gown down and started dabbing around my neck and chest. “So when do I get to remove your top?” I joked. She chuckled back and grabbed a new cloth, while I made the incredibly stupid mistake of actually imagining her with that colorful top removed, and her luscious 34-Bs exposed.

“Can you raise your arms?” I was able to, slowly, and she did my Casibom Giriş pits and the underside of my arms. “OK, lower them.” She continued the bath, doing my back then my stomach. “OK, lie back down and we’ll work the legs.”

The moment of truth- I slowly lowered my torso back, returning to a supine position, and once again my body lay flat on the bed — except for one part. Sherry, bless her, took it all in stride. “Well, that should make that area easier to clean — we won’t have to lift it!” She grabbed another cloth and soaked it in the warm water, and dabbed all around my pelvis, hips, and finally, my outer groin area. I didn’t even want to look, but I couldn’t resist taking a peek at her lovely hands getting so intimate near my cock.

Then, to my horror, as she passed near the helmet, I noticed a small string of pre-cum leaking out. Worse, I think she’d noticed it too. “I am soooo mortified, Sherry! I’m so sorry.”

She looked at me almost quizzically. “Why?” I wasn’t sure if she meant it was no big deal or if she was pretending she hadn’t noticed. Once more she wetted a new cloth. “Now, Mary said your back won’t really let you reach your privates, so shall I do that for you?”

I hesitated, weighing whether or not I wanted her to do it for the simple pleasure of it, versus the possible embarrassment. “I can reach it well enough. I could do it, and you can finish up on my legs.”

She surprised me with her reply. “Well, since I have to do your legs anyway, why don’t I do it all? So, just relax. Close your eyes if you need to, pretend you’re somewhere else.” Then, unbelievably, she ran the cloth the length of my erection. Where the hell was I supposed to pretend I was? How about standing up behind a bent over Sherry? That works for me! How about … hey … what’s going on? She was running the cloth down my cock again … and now… OH! … back up…mmmmm … and down, slowly, gently. Wait. Did she even have a cloth..?

I opened my eyes and looked down. I was right. She wasn’t even using a cloth anymore. Her hand was lovingly, gently, sensuously, stroking up and down my prick. I moved my eyes to hers, my surprise obvious. “Wow, that’s gonna be…. REALLY clean.”

She smiled as she continued to stroke. “Mary told me to make sure I cleaned this, both inside *and* out. Now will you lie back, close your eyes, and think whatever you need to think to help yourself along?”

Who was I to argue? Although I did need one thing, and before I lay back I grabbed one of my pillows from behind my head and held it next to me. I’d need it later. “Sherry, may I, um, encourage you? I’ll try not to be too offensive.”

“Tom, whatever you need, hun. I’m not going anywhere until you climax.”

I’d started to almost imperceptibly thrust my hips now as she increased her pace a bit. “Oh, god, that is sweet. Stroke me, Sherry, stroke my cock.” I grunted softly and my breathing picked up. So did her pace. “Oh my god! Yes! That’s it, beat me, beat me faster!” My hip thrusting was more pronounced now, and I had to peek again: Sherry’s hand was almost a blur as she jacked me off. But that wasn’t even the best part.

I don’t know if it was intentional or not, but there were three very important factors that had come into play here: her top buttons Casibom Yeni Giriş were undone, she was bent over, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. I saw massive cleavage, and the way she was masturbating me made her breasts jiggle deliciously. It put me over the top.

Warning Sherry, I gasped out, “I’m coming!” Then I pulled the pillow over my face. Somehow, Sherry increased her jacking pace even more, and two weeks of pent up jism boiled to a head. I screamed through my orgasm, as I always do, the pillow muffling all my joyous cries. Me entire body stiffened. My prick pulsed once powerfully, pulsed again with slightly less force, and one more time about the same, before the climax settled down to 5 or 6 more minor pulses.

My respiration was elevated, and I pulled the pillow away, gasping for breath as I laid it aside. Sherry had a warm smile on her face as she covered my hips with a small towel. “You OK?” she asked. I could only nod. She held out her hand. “Good idea on the pillow. If you’d let that orgasmic cry go without it, half the nurses on the wing would’ve come running to see who was dying!” We both chuckled and she added, “Give me the pillow, I’ll put a new cover on it.” Ever the professional, she was already dismissing the event.

“No, that’s… OK. It’s… fine.” I was having trouble getting the words out. Good thing I wasn’t hooked up to a vitals monitor! They’d be “code-blueing” me right now.

Sherry was laughing. “Tom, it’s not fine. Here, let me show you.” She again held her hand out for it, so I passed it to her. She flipped it and showed me. There was a huge dollop of jism on it! She could see the amazement in my face and, by way of explanation, traced the arc of my shot. Starting from the area just above my groin, she pointed out a parabola that lifted about 2 feet above me and landed down slightly to the left of my face.

“Wow, I knew that first shot felt powerful, but I never…”

“First shot? That was your second, hun.” I couldn’t believe it. “Your first one almost took out my eye, I was bent right over you after you covered your face. You shot right past my face, up and out off to the left of your bed on the floor there.” She pointed in the general direction.

“You’re kidding!” I said. I leaned over to my left and looked and sure enough, on the floor, was a small pool of semen. I leaned back to look at her. “Sherry, thank you soooo much, I — ” I stopped, as she was staring at me, her mouth agape. ( don’t think about sliding something in it! don’t think about sliding something in it!! ) “What’s wrong? You’re scaring me!”

“Tom,” she began, stunned. “Look at that again.” Her tone indicated she was pleasantly surprised.

I started to lean over to look again, when I realized what had amazed her so much. I turned to look at her. “No pain!” She was nodding and smiling at me. I think she was almost crying. “Should we write this session up for JAMA?” I asked.

She laughed. “Later. Let’s get you into the shower so you can wash up properly. How much of this sponge bath may I related to Mary? After all, I was supposed to give her a full report.”

I smiled. “Tell her everything! And do it with a leer!” Again we laughed, and as we started to maneuver me out of the bed, I realized that between me seeing her open mouth and thinking about her escorting me into the shower, I was once again at full salute.

I hope she noticed!


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