But at this point, she didn't care. The cock up her ass was too delicious. "Fuck me!" she groaned. "Keep fucking me!"
CHAPTER THREE
When she finally arrived home that evening, the memory of the door opening and closing while she was on the bed with Ryan brought on a fit of depression. She'd been a damn fool for taking a chance like that with a patient. If someone had really opened the door and seen her – and it could only be someone on the staff! One word to the Director of the hospital would get her fired. Oliver Fleming was very strict about things like that. He didn't mind nurses screwing around with doctors – especially when he was one of the doctors – but the patients were out of bounds. Fleming had more than once made a pass at her, but Christie had never accepted his invitation. She now realized the only way to protect her job was to make sure the Director would be on her side.
Knowing what she had to do, Christie decided it was best not to waste any time. She called Fleming at home. He was a fifty-year-old bachelor, and she hoped he might be able to see her that very evening. The essential part of her plan was that she get to Fleming first.
He seemed happy to talk to her on the phone. He seemed even happier when she came right out and invited herself to his house. A mischievous smile was on Christie's face when she hung up the phone. Poor old Fleming would never know what hit him!
She decided to dress carefully. She wore a simple, carefully fitted short dress whose neckline revealed just the right amount of the tops of her tits. Under the dress, she wore a pair of flimsy bikini panties, a thin garter belt, and sheer beige stockings. The nylons came up very high – to just an inch below the mound of her pussy.
An hour after the telephone call, she was on Fleming's doorstep.
"Come in, come in, Christie," he said. "You look marvelous. You're still the prettiest nurse in the hospital."
Christie fluttered her eyes. "Oh, really, Doctor Fleming!"
"Oliver Fleming never lies," he said. She walked with him into his large living room. Even at fifty, he was still handsome. He had a full head of steel-grey hair and icy blue eyes. He made her sit down on a low sofa. He brought her a drink and sat down opposite her in an easy chair. Dressed as she was, there was no way she could sit gracefully on the sofa without showing a good deal of her thighs. Her knees were nearly up at her chin, and the slightest displacement of her short dress would reveal the tops of her stockings, the bare undersides of her thighs – and even the bulge of her cunt-lips under the thin nylon of her panties! She gave him just the briefest glimpse of what she had on under her dress, and she smiled inwardly at the resulting sparkle in his eyes.
"I think it's important that as Director I be close to everyone on the staff," he said.
Christie nodded. He was wearing a silk dressing gown, and she wondered if he had anything on under it. The more she studied him, the more attractive he became. Getting Fleming on her side was not going to be as unpleasant as she'd thought!
His eyes were now on the neckline of her dress. He ran his tongue over his thin lips. She imagined that tongue vibrating up and down between her cunt-lips. The idea of Fleming sucking her pussy made her shiver with lust. She had to be careful, however. If she moved too fast, Fleming might get suspicious.
As if unconscious of what she was doing, she flashed the undersides of her thighs at him again. From the gleam in his eyes, she guessed he'd probably seen the bulge of her nylon covered cunt-lips. There might even be a damp spot there – she could feel some of the wetness now!
When he shifted his body in the easy chair, she couldn't believe her eyes. The movement of his legs had opened the front of his dressing gown. He pushed himself forward on the seat until his cock and balls hung over the edge in full view. His cock dangled over a wrinkled, leathery ball-sac. He was uncircumcised. His fat cock-head was out of proportion to the thin stalk which it capped. His cock-head, still half covered by foreskin, was almost as big as a plum.
He smiled at her with a twinkle in his eyes. "I know why you're here," he said.
Christie's mouth fell open. "Huh?"
"Head Nurse Biddle told me all about your little party with one of our patients."
"Party?"
Fleming sighed. "The patient's name is Frank Ryan. Biddle says you had his cock up your ass."
"Oh, God!" Christie moaned. "Does that mean I'm fired?"
"That depends on you, my dear."
"On me?"
His cock-head was visibly swelling, his prick-shaft twitching as it slowly lengthened.
"You know the rules about activities of that kind with patients," Fleming said. "Biddle and I agree we ought to have a good reason to ignore something like this. So far I don't see any good reason."
"What would be a good reason?" Christie said.
Her heart was beating like a trip-hammer. It was up to her to change Fleming's mind about firing her. The sight of his dangling cock made her shudder. His cockhead was throbbing and his prick-shaft was growing.
"Open your knees," Fleming said. "Let's have a look at your legs."
She looked up to see his eyes staring down at her legs. She slowly parted her knees. She spread her legs farther and farther apart, and then she took hold of the hem other dress and rolled it back to her belly.
"Lovely," Fleming said.
She looked down at her slim legs, at her swelling thighs clasped by her stockings. She ran her fingertips up over her thighs to the waistband of her panties. She began rolling down the flimsy panties covering the dark bush of her cunt-hair. When the panties were a thin roll on her thighs, she ran the flat of her hand across her springy pubic curls. Fleming's eyes were fixed on her crotch, concentrating on her moving hand.
"I just love Park Ridge Hospital," she whimpered. "I'd be awfully depressed if I had to leave."
His cock was rigid and ready for fucking. His swollen cock-head looked almost as big as a baseball on the end of his thin cock-shaft. He had the fattest cock-head Christie had ever seen!
"You've got a lot of hair there, haven't you?" he said.
She slipped off the sofa and knelt on the rug. Picking up the hem of her dress, she peeled her dress off in one smooth motion and tore it away. Rising to her feet, she rolled her panties down to her ankles and stepped out of them. She readjusted her garters. She stood naked in her thin garter belt and beige stockings, her feet perched on high-heeled pumps, wide apart.
"Come over here," he said. He was breathing heavily. His hands reached out to her. When she moved forward, his hands came around behind her to grip the cheeks of her ass. He opened his legs wide and pulled her in. With a low grunt, he pressed his face forward into her bush of cunt-hair.
His tongue probed between her cunt-lips. He moved his hands to the front to pull open her outer pussy-lips to expose her cunt. She stood motionless as he slurped and licked at her cunt. Then he pulled his mouth away and turned her body around.
"Let's have a look at it from the back," he said.
Her pussy quivered as he forced her to bend over. Moving her legs apart, she doubled over and took hold of her knees with her hands. If he wanted to look at her that way, she would make sure he saw it all!
Fleming gasped. "Christ, what a cunt!" he said.
A soft moan escaped her lips at the first touch of his wet tongue on her asshole. He played his tongue-tip over her tightly clenched ass-ring. She automatically squeezed her ass muscles. The sensation produced by his tongue as it repeatedly circled her asshole was exquisite.
At intervals, he ran his tongue lower down to probe the mouth of her cunt. She could feel the first stirrings of an impending orgasm. Her nipples were stiff. Her tits hung down like heavy fruit, swaying each time she moved her body. His desire to impale herself on it, spear her ass on his wet tongue. His tongue-tip finally squirmed into the grip of her asshole and her throat gurgled out a moan of pleasure.