Getting a helping hand from my nurse [Fm] [hj] [consensual]

I was really starting to get sick of waiting around the blood lab. This was 5 or 10 years back, when I was just a couple years out of high school, getting into the busy schedule of part-time college on top of part-time work. I was busy and stressed, and the last thing I needed was a prolonged urinary tract infection so bad that it made me miss classes *and* work. But, so it goes.

Now it was finally letting up and I was feeling ready to get back into the swing of things. But with all the missed classwork to catch up on, with the summer semester’s final exam season on the horizon, and my boss on my case trying to get my ass back on the work schedule, I was really not in the mood to sit around waiting for an hour to get blood and urine samples taken, for the I-don’t-know-how-many-th time in the past few weeks.

“Hi there, I’m Laura,” said a voice from the doorway of the little room. I thanked God that a nurse had *finally* come. I looked up from the philosophy notes on my phone, and had to force my tired eyes not to stare. Laura was on the petite side, with curly reddish hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a chest that somehow seemed enhanced even by the less-than-flattering shape of her scrubs. Older, too, but not as old as my parents, so I didn’t feel *too* weird about the instant tightness in my pants. “So… you get light-headed?”

Shit. Had she noticed? Shit.

Wait, no. I’d asked to have my blood taken lying down, since a couple years earlier I had passed out in the chair after they’d taken their sample. Ever since then, they had let me have it done in the EKG room so I could lie on the bed, with less risk of the blood draining away from my head. Like it was doing right at that moment.

“Uh. Yeah.” I said, after an awkwardly long delay. I gave a sheepish smile, as if to apologize for the hassle. And the ogling.

“Great! Just lie back and push your sleeve up, and I’ll be right over.”

I did as she asked, being well used to the routine by now. Only this time… lying down on the paper-lined medical bed, I couldn’t help but notice the painfully noticeable bulge in my pants.

I should say, I’m not always this horny. Even back then, I had left my pubescent “popping a boner at every gentle breeze” days behind me. The problem was, my sister had had several friends from out of town visiting, and they’d been staying with us for a couple weeks. I had my own room, of course, but things were just a little more crowded at home, and I’d always been paranoid about other people hearing, or smelling, or interrupting, or walking in on me jerking off. Combine that with my medical issues and my hectic school and work life, and it had taken a major toll on my masturbation schedule.

Which is to say, I didn’t have one. I’d been used to masturbating daily, usually right before my morning shower (see above, my smell paranoia). But the past two weeks, I hadn’t had a single chance.

Hence the bulge. Hence the killer case of blue balls. Hence Laura’s gaze hovering just for a second over what was so obviously visible now that I was lying flat on my back in front of her.

She definitely saw it.

She was, of course, a professional. I thought I saw just the barest hint of a smirk as she went about her business, drawing only a couple tubes of blood and telling me to press the cotton ball against my arm while she grabbed a bandage.

Fortunately, it wasn’t a lot of blood. Not enough to make me feel dizzy or pass out. Unfortunately, it also wasn’t enough to make my raging erection rage less. Why had I worn my tighter-fitting pants today, I asked myself. They were such a thin material, too, and my shirt wasn’t long enough to casually tug down over it. I had no hope of covering up my hard-on. And it had only been intensified by Laura’s admirable cleavage leaning so close to my face as she had sat next to the bed, focusing on her work.

I tried not to look. Tried to think about anything else at all. Tried to force my dick to go flaccid through sheer force of will. But the cumulative arousal of the last fortnight kept winning out, and my cock just kept straining harder and harder against my pants.

Another flick of the eyes as she stood up to get the bandage. Just a fraction of a second, but she was undoubtedly looking at my crotch again. I wanted to die. I felt like a creepy 13-year-old or some pervy old dude leering at this medical professional just trying to do her job. It was all I could do not to clasp my hands over my bulge and shuffle out right then and there.

She paused while digging through a box of bandages in the desk drawer, reading over my requisition form again. “This might seem like an odd question…” Oh god. What now? “Have you ejaculated recently?”

Well. That’s it, I thought, so long, I’m dead now. It’s been real.

She could see my discomfort. “It can often make this kind of problem worse, is the thing. If you don’t masturbate. The prostate gets enlarged, and it puts pressure on the bladder. It might make you have to pee more often, or make you feel like you have to pee when you actually don’t.”

“Oh,” I said, now only moderately mortified. “Well… It *has* been a while.” I filled her in on the situation – too many guests, work, school, two weeks, etc. Probably oversharing a bit, but I was trying to cover my nervousness with talking.

Laura seemed to consider this, then casually closed the door before returning to the bedside. “You know,” she said slowly, keeping her eyes on the bandage as she put it on my arm, “I could help you out with that.”

My mind, dazed a bit by the shock, took a moment to connect the dots.

Seeing my hesitation, Laura nodded towards my crotch. “Just to relieve the pressure, since you can’t do it at home. It should reduce your symptoms, help you get back to normal. I used to do it for my ex-husband, back when he was… having similar issues.”

Now, if you hadn’t caught on by now, I’m a pretty nervous person. You might have expected me to be embarrassed, to think *what the fuck is she doing she’s supposed to be a medical professional*, to wonder if I was dreaming, to worry about someone catching us. And, yeah, I did worry about all that for about half a second before the little blue-balled devil on my shoulder won the argument, outweighing my anxiety and my ethical doubts. “O-*oh*,” I blurted, so suavely and seductively. “Yes! Uh, okay.”

Laura smiled. “Great! You can go ahead and undo your pants.” She went back to the door, turning the lock. I thanked a few more gods that I had requested this room.

My heart was pounding, still in disbelief as I unbuckled my belt and lowered my fly. I paused, my thumb hooked in the waistband of my boxers.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re not sure,” said Laura, taking her seat again. She glanced back toward the door. “It shouldn’t be a problem as long as we don’t take more than a couple minutes.”

Ha. Not being able to finish in less than a couple minutes was *not* one of my worries. If anything, I was just still paranoid that this was some sick, elaborate prank or something. “No,” I said, looking her in the eyes and sounding confident (for me, at least). “No, it should be fine. I’m sure.”

“Good.” And then her hand was on my bulge, squeezing my aching cock through my underwear. I thanked another pantheon that I’d had time to shower before I came here. Then I focused all my will on not immediately filling my boxers with cum.

Slowly, in a way that was oddly clinical and somehow sensual at the same time, she wove her fingers into the fly of my boxers, wrapped them around the base of my cock, and pulled it out through the hole.

Holy shit, this was really happening.

Now, my dick isn’t porn star sized or anything, but I’m more than happy with it. Laura’s hands both wrapped around my shaft, leaving my uncut glans just peeking out, already slick with precum. Laura squeezed my erection firmly, seeing how rock hard it was, and she eased my foreskin down around my head, gently rubbing my frenulum with a fingertip. For the dozenth time since she walked in the room, I came *this* close to cumming. She seemed to appreciate my quiet exhalation as I let my head rock back, taking in the already intense pleasure.

As if that weren’t enough, she even reached back in and freed my aching balls from their boxer prison. “Oh yeah,” she said softly as she fondled my balls with her left hand, still stroking me with her right. “You really need this, huh?” It was less of a porn-movie line, and more of a doctor understanding her patient’s symptoms.

“*Yesss*,” I breathed, unafraid now of what she might think of me. I really. Needed. This.

Laura worked expertly, as if jerking off horny 19-year-olds had been part of her medical training. Her right hand squeezed and stroked my throbbing cock, even spreading the now-copious amounts of precum over my head and shaft. Her left hand cupped and massaged my balls, even reaching a couple fingers down to rub my poor, swollen prostate through my taint. She was damn good at this.

*A couple minutes, my ass*, I thought. There was no more putting it off: I was going to cum. Very soon.

Laura, exquisitely talented Laura, knew what I was thinking. “You probably don’t want any of it getting on you, huh?” I nodded. “Here, why don’t you sit up… and just hang your legs off the sides…” I did as she suggested. The bed was pretty narrow, so it wasn’t too awkward for me to straddle it, and now my dick was pointed at the disposable paper lining instead of my body. A little unsure of what to do with my hands now, I settled for leaning back with my hands on the headrest end of the bed. “Perfect,” said Laura.

Perfect indeed. Laura took hold of my cock with both hands again, and I felt like I was about to explode. I thought about all the sexy daydreams and fantasies that had tempted me these past couple weeks, and decided they were nothing compared to this right here. Laura’s hands working like a masseuse on my dripping cock, her tits bouncing slightly with the motion of her arms, the look of concentration on her face, her eyes fixed on my erection, her lopsided smile even more clear now that she was focused on something. We may both have been fully clothed, but I would be logging this away in my memory as one of the hottest moments of my life. And despite my neuroses, the fear of being caught only added to my arousal.

And here it was. Laura’s slippery hands took hold of me and tugged me over the edge. For several seconds I was somewhere else, blinded, dazed by the long-overdue orgasm finally bursting out of me.

I came back to myself just in time so see the first bursts of cum shooting – spraying, really, as if it was being forced out too quickly to hold together in a concentrated jet – all over the bed, spattering the paper like something in the MoMA, even hitting the wall just beyond the foot of the bed. One, two, three sprays like this, and then came the ropes, even more, heavy threads of cum shooting almost as far, one after the other, before the shots gradually grew smaller and gave way to thick, gushing cum that flowed down my dick and over Laura’s fingers.

“God… *damn*…” Laura’s eyebrows were arched, surveying the desolation. “My ex never had a load like that, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Sorry,” I gasped, feeling sheepish once again. If nothing else, I felt bad just for making such a mess for her.

Laura laughed – kindly, though. “Nothing to apologize for. You obviously needed this. You’ll feel a lot better with… *that*…” – she tilted her head towards the jizz disaster – “out of your system.”

“No kidding,” I laughed, already feeling 50 pounds lighter. Or at least a couple ounces.

Laura washed her hands thoroughly, then grabbed a handful of sanitary wipes and got to work on cleaning where the paper had failed to protect the bed. I wiped myself clean and quickly grabbed another wipe to help her, making sure not to miss the sticky drops of semen dripping down the wall. We tossed the wipes on the paper lining, crumpled it up and ripped it off of the roll, pulling down a fresh covering for the bed.

“Well,” said Laura, breathing hard after the rush to clean up. “How do I look?” She straightened her top, adjusting her bra and checking to make sure no stains had gotten on her.

“Pretty fucking good, I’d say.” She gave me a look. “Oh. I mean, uh, like a totally normal nurse who didn’t just jerk off her patient and clean up a gallon of cum?”

“That’s the idea.” She picked up the trash bag that contained, among other things, my ungodly load. “Well. I hope you feel better soon, and if not… maybe I’ll see you back here some time.”

I laughed, a little shocked that she would actually want to do this again. “I hope so,” I said. “Oh and… thank you. Really. The treatment was a huge success, and your patient is feeling much better. Like, *much* better.”

She gave me one more smirk, then went out the door, leaving me with nothing left to do but walk back out through the reception area. The thought of people smelling my cum on me didn’t even occur to me as I shuffled through the crowded waiting room. What had happened in the EKG room was all I would be able to think about for the rest of the day, and while I eventually was able to focus on studying again (and pass my exams, thanks to not having to pee constantly), it’s been quite comfortably on my mind ever since.

——–

Hope you all enjoyed my first submission, and the first erotic story I’ve actually finished writing! Let me know what you enjoyed, and if you want more. xx

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/8odygi/getting_a_helping_hand_from_my_nurse_fm_hj