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Click here"You can't always get what you want
But if you try sometimes you might find
You get what you need."
You Can't Always Get What You Want; The Rolling Stones
* * * * *
Phil keeps singing that Rolling Stone's song whenever I ask about our relationship. You see Phil was this sixty-five-year-old retired businessman who checked into our private clinic at the insistence of his children whom he seldom saw. They claimed he had undergone a long-term depression and feared he might have "lost it."
"Yeah, I've lost it," Phil readily admitted. "However, what I ain't telling my ungrateful brats and their obnoxious spawn is that the 'it' I have lost is my flagging sex life - my 'mojo!' It sucks to get old and have to deal with a limp willy."
What you may not know was that Phil was a widower with a lot of money. As such, it was natural that numerous attractive young women were seemingly drawn to a crusty old geezer as Phil often described himself.
"In the beginning, those bitches were certainly willing to anything - and I mean anything - to win my favor. However, they dropped me like the proverbial hot potato once their chances of getting my money faded. With each passing affair and two-faced woman, I just got more and more down in more than one way.
"Finally, with fuss made by my 'loving' family - ha, what a laugh - I decided to 'visited' this exclusive and expensive clinic. To be honest, I just wanted to get away from all the nagging and have some peace and quiet. I figured that since I was here I might as well undergo a series of test to see if anything could be done about my...how did the doctor put it...oh, yeah, my low libido and corresponding erectile dysfunction. Hmmph!"
This is where I came in to the story. My name is Rei which is pronounce like "ray" and is short for Reiko, my given Japanese name. Although I've been told that I'm attractive, I consider myself of average appearance and build, standing about five-feet-three-inches with long thick black hair. I come from the other side of the tracks and am somewhat street-wise rough when compared to my older, more polished counterparts. I suffered more than my fair share of hard knocks before I got it together and finally put myself through nursing school.
When I met Phil, I had just turned twenty-four and was a nurse at the clinic that Phil checked into. This was my first job since graduating as a registered nurse, and is totally unlike what I thought nursing would be like. The patients are well-off, elderly, and for the most part, are looking for sound medical diagnosis and quality treatment, a little rest and relaxation, and a liberal dose of individualized bedside attention and care. It's more like working at a calm quiet spa than a busy noisy hospital.
While my job isn't that bad, there are two things that I really hate about it. The first is that all the nurses are required to wear the traditional nurses' whites with the pinned-on winged-cap and the white stockings and shoes. It seems that our elderly patients never liked the looks of the more comfortable and casual "scrubs" that you see in medical facilities everywhere. Our management felt that if our paying customers wanted to see us in whites, whites it would be. While I wore the standard button-down, knee-length dress, I opted for the thigh-high stockings instead of pantyhose as a small expression of rebellion.
The second thing I dislike about my job is that it's boring. As the nurse with the least amount of seniority, I was stuck with the shift that ran from midnight to eight in the morning. The clinic ward that I watched consisted of twelve private single rooms occupied by patients who were usually asleep or liberally medicated by the time I arrived. Since I was the only nurse on duty, my nights were often full of silence, reading, and late-night television - monotonous - not what you'd call fulfilling.
While the starting pay is okay, there's not a whole lot left over after making payment on my enormous student loans and my tiny studio apartment. Having to make ends meet and living from pay check to pay check don't leave me with many options, personally and socially.
Don't get me wrong, there wasn't much of a social life to scuttle. Scumbag losers, slam-bam one-nighters, and a regrettable abortion were enough to convince me that I didn't have terrific luck when it came to men in my life. By the time Phil entered my life, I was beginning to realize that while I was making a living, I wasn't any closer to living the life that I wanted. All in all, my life had been and was pretty depressing.
Phil's admittance came at an unusual time in that the ward was only half filled. By the time I began my shift, the other patients were sound asleep. The nurses of the previous shifts had left notes about how difficult and argumentative Phil had been, and to watch myself. I didn't have long to wait when Phil's nurse's light went off about one in the wee morning.
When he saw an Asian nurse responding, Phil assumed that I'd be demure and meek, and proceeded to rip into me about this and that. "Well about time someone showed up! I've been ringing this goddamn nurse's call button, but nothing. Are you sure this fucking gizmo is hooked up? I could be having a heart attack, and no one would know...much less care! Here I am paying all this money and I can't even get some decent care...can't sleep in this lousy place!"
When I tried to placate him, he continued his rant about the clinic and the care he had received thus far. When I offered him some sleeping pills as indicated in his chart, Phil began irate and personal, saying that all us nurses and especially me did was push pills and not given a hoot about their patients.
I don't know what made me snap - maybe I was tired - maybe I was defensive - or maybe I was fed up with my life. All I know was Phil's rant was the last thing I needed. Before I knew it, I was giving Phil a liberal dose of his own medicine. The years of frustration that I had kept bottled up inside of me came spewing out, and poor Phil was my target.
"Oh, give me a fucking break! I don't know who the hell you think you are, but do you always badger and bully people! Look, you goddamn egotistical son-of-a-bitch, I'm trying to do my job and help you! But because you have money, that doesn't entitle you to treat me like shit! I don't know what your problem is, but maybe...just maybe...it's you!"
By the time I managed to get myself under control, tears were streaming down my face, and I realized that I had just kissed my job goodbye. However, before I could stammer a hasty apology, Phil just said, "You know, nursie, I deserved that. Good for you for setting me straight. I can be a terrible old fart. I know that and ask your forgiveness. My name is Phil, and it is just that...sometimes... especially late at night...it's kind of hard not having anyone to speak to. It gets really hard when you realize just how alone you are..."
Phil was perplexed when I said that I knew exactly what he was talking about. When I shared with him what I was feeling lately, he looked surprised. "Why, Rei...it is okay for me to call you Rei...you're young, pretty, smart, and feisty...you shouldn't feel that way."
"Well," I chided him in return, "look who's talking...you're filthy rich..." We both chuckled and began talking about all kind of things we had gone through. Phil talk extensively about his life, and I rambled about how I got to be in the clinic and seemed to be going nowhere fast. By the end of that first evening, we were chatting like long lost friends, catching up on lost time.
The next evening, I made Phil my last bed check after making sure the other patients were sound asleep. "How was my day? I had one of your young whipper-snapper doctors lecture me that I was going through 'male menopause' and that I would just had to adjust to the normal aging process. Hmmph! How am I supposed to do the 'horizontal-nasty' with some young and willing hot-to-trot chick with a dick that hasn't been able to get it up in years?
"The doc said that he can't find anything physically wrong with me. And, that my condition might be more mental than physical. You know, Rei, the doc might be right. Now, I don't mean to brag but I've had a lot of women. Unfortunately, they only wanted my money and not me which was a real turn-off. The only problem was after years of being turned off, I don't know if I can get it turned back on."
"Phil, I know what you mean. I have no problem attracting guys, but the men whom I attracted, weren't interested in me or being with me. They were just into getting their rocks off and I was just another 'cum-dump' - excuse my French. Anyway, after a series of dismal one-night stands and fizzled relationships, I had come to realize how uninterested I was in starting up anything that I knew was doomed from the start."
When Phil snickered, I became defensive, but he quickly calmed me down. "Rei, I meant no offense and wasn't laughing at you. I was just thinking what utter idiots the men you have known were." With a chuckle, he smiled appreciatively at me and said, "Oh, if I were only forty years younger..." For some strange reason unknown to me at the time, I found my heart beating a little faster and a smile gracing my lips.
I returned to work after my weekend break to find Phil despondent and surly. At first, he wouldn't even talk to me but finally opened up with a snarky "Where the hell were you? I kept expecting you this weekend and got someone totally different. Jeez!"
"What? Hey, wait a minute, Phil! Just in case you didn't realize this, I'm not in the habit of working seven days a week! And on top of that, since when do I have to ask your permission to have the fucking weekend off!".
Phil smiled slightly and sheepishly said, "Always putting me in my place...it's just that I missed that...I missed you, Rei."
"I missed you too," slipped off my tongue before I realized that I had even spoken. Yet, once uttered, I realized at once that I had really missed Phil and our times together. The noisy crowded bar that I had gone to with my girlfriends was nothing compared to my long conversations with Phil. The self-absorbed, horny guys who hit on me were pale shadows of this grumpy old man before me.
Before I could continue my pondering, Phil complained how uncomfortable he felt because of the battery of tests that the doctors had put him through in the late afternoon. He grumbled that it was too late, and he was too tired to get out of bed to take another shower. Pouting like a little boy, Phil muttered, "I can't get comfortable feeling all sticky like this."
"Well, let Nurse Rei see what she can do about this," I said before leaving the room only to return minutes later with some fresh towels and a deep wide pan filled with hot water. After drawing the privacy screen, I untied Phil's gown to first wipe his back, and then had him lay back against the propped-up pillows. I then took my time wiping his face, ears, and neck before doing his arms and hands. Pulling down his gown to his waist, I washed his chest, stopping at his waist. I then moved to the bottom of the bed, and Phil sighed as I wiped his legs from mid-thigh to his feet.
When I removed his gown from his loins, I was amazed that for an old man, Phil had a nice sized penis between his legs. When my warm towel cupped and hefted his egg-sized testicles, Phil moaned softly as his eyes closed in complete bliss. However, when I began to clean his manhood, it grew and expanded in my very hand.
"Oh, God," Phil exclaimed, "please Rei, don't stop! I haven't had a hard-on...like this in years! Please...Rei...don't stop what you're doing..."
I knew I was at the proverbial point of no return. Something told me that to continue would be highly unprofessional. Simply put, nurses didn't go around "man-handling" their patient's privates. However, when Phil let out his pitiful "Oh...don't... stop..." when I started to remove my hand from his now twitching organ, it dawned on me that it was also a nurse's duty to comfort her patients. After all, nothing in the Nurses' Oath specifically prohibited providing a little "physical" relief to those in need. With this revelation, I found my hand sliding up and down his fully-inflated shaft as my open mouth descended on Phil's engorged erection.
Now I have no problems sucking dick. In fact, I love giving blow jobs so much that more than one boyfriend had commented that I could make some serious money giving head. As I slowly bobbed up and down in perfect synchronization with my pumping clenched hand, I really got off watching Phil moan in erotic paradise as I deep-throated him with practiced ease. Feeling him slip between my sucking lips, sensing the shivers that shot up his spine, and seeing his back arch as he pushed further into my willing mouth really turned me on.
"Don't stop...oh Rei...for the love of god, please don't stop," was all Phil could mutter as his hips jutted upwards, "I'm gonna..." Just as I pulled back to tell him not to hold back, Phil exploded in this humungous wad of cum all over my face, hair, and neck. A second milky white rope squirted all over the front of my uniform despite my hand trying to stem his penis eruptions. Instinctively I engulfed him with my mouth, sucking madly as he spewed what seemed like gallons of sperm down my gulping throat.
How I managed to get Phil's semen out of my hair and off my uniform that night I will never know. All I know that when I left Phil he had this "shit-ass" grin on his now-relaxed face as he drifted into sleep. At the time, I didn't know if I would cross the line again by blowing off Phil, but looking at a contented Phil, I had no regrets whatsoever about what had just happened.
The following night I was off again. A co-worker had arranged a shift swap weeks ago so that she could enjoy a night with her husband. Knowing how Phil might react, I left him a short note to let him know about the switch.
I was thankful for the time off because it gave me an opportunity to reassess what had happened. I definitely knew that my actions weren't due to Phil being rich, or that I was coming on to him like the other bitches in his life. I told myself that my compassion for my patient was the sole basis for my actions. Yet, the more I thought about it, the greater my uncertainty became. It was as if there was something else about Phil that I couldn't quite put my finger on. In the end, I chided myself for allowing things to happen and vowed to walk the professional straight and narrow when it came to Phil.
Yet, all my resolve vanished when I saw Phil late the next night. "Rei, this will my last night in this clinic. The doctors had completed their tests and felt that I could benefit from further counseling on an outpatient basis. They wanted to release me today, but I asked to stay one more night before returning to the grind of the real world. In reality, Rei, I just wanted to see you one more time." Before I could say anything, he pushed an envelope towards me saying, "This is for you."
I was dumbfounded to find a crisp one-thousand-dollar bill when I opened it. "I'm sorry..." I murmured in a soft voice, "I can't take this..."
Phil looked stunned and then flustered. "Oh, no, Rei. Don't get me wrong. I'm not paying you for what happened the other night. Believe me when I say that I've known quite a few gold diggers and call-girls, and I know that you're not that kind of girl.
"Look Rei, what happened between us was really special. You didn't have to do what you did the other night. Yet, you did...and without asking for anything in return. I'm just an old fool who doesn't have much to give a young pretty lady like you. I do, however, have a lot of money which is something that you don't have much of. This is not a payment; rather, it's my way of showing you my appreciation...for your unselfish kindness. Rei, this is my way of saying how much I've come to appreciate you as a person. Please accept it..."
I could feel my tears starting to swell and could only whisper, "I don't know, Phil...I really shouldn't..."
"Look," Phil said jokingly, "if it's not enough appreciation..." At that I playfully swatted him on the shoulder and then let him insert the envelope into my uniform's hip pocket.
We made some polite chatter but after a moment of silence, Phil said, "Rei...you know that I wasn't lying to you when I said that I haven't been able to achieve an erection in years...much less ejaculate like that..."
"Well, you sure could have fooled me," I retorted, "the way you hosed me the other night. Do you know how hard it was getting your semen out of my hair and off the front of my uniform? You should have seen the looks the morning shift nurses gave me."
"Rei, I won't blame you if you think I'm crazy, but I've been thinking and I'm not sure if I can do it again. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, but I'm not fooling around. I mean, what if the other night was a 'fluke' that can never be recreated again. The fricking 'what-ifs' are driving me nuts!"
I could have just told Phi that it was all in his imagination. I could have told him that it would be all right and that the next time he'd perform admirably. Yet, I knew deep down inside that there are times when actions speak louder than words.
Walking to the door, I locked it and on the way back to his bed, I drew the privacy curtain between his bed and the door. When I began unbuttoning my uniform, Phil stammered, "What...are... you...doing?"
I slipped out of my uniform and draped it over the back of the nearest chair. "Do you think I want to give you another chance," I replied as I turned to face him, "to ruin a uniform fresh from the cleaners?"
"Rei, the guys whom you've known were complete, unadulterated idiots to let a young Japanese woman as breathtaking as you go," Phil exclaimed as I stood before him in my bra, panties, and thigh-high stockings. "However," he subtly quipped as he swung his legs around and sat at the edge of his bed, "while you're at it you might want to remove your bra and panties. I can't see you going 'commando' under that white starched uniform if by accident, I happened to squirt on them."
"Jeez, Phil, you're really a dirty old man! Are you sure you're telling me the truth? Judging from that 'tent' in the front of your gown, I think you've been taking advantage of this poor innocent young nurse..."
Phil exaggerated a fake heart attack, clutching his chest, and we were consumed with fits of laughter. That all changed, however, when I leaned forward to untie his gown. Before I know it, Phil took me in his arms and kissed me - and could Phil kiss! He kissed me slowly and tenderly, but with confidence and passion. It was so unlike the demanding, urgent, slobbering lip-mashing of my previous men. I found myself melting in his embrace, succumbing to his kisses, unable and unwilling to do otherwise.
If I had thought Phil's mouth and lips were magical, so were his hands and fingers. I didn't realize that Phil had unsnapped my bra until his lips slid down my neck to engulf a swollen nipple. Now, breast-wise I am a modest B-cup in size with just enough for roundness, heft, and jiggle, but not that much where I have to worry about stretch marks or saggy tits.
I do, however, have embarrassingly huge red cylindrical nipples that when fully erect jut up and out over three-fourths of an inch and are nearly as thick. They would be very noticeable even under my stiff nurse's uniform if I wore anything but thick molded bras. You would think that given their size, my little babies would not be sensitive at all; however, the truth is that once a man touches them, I am totally his.
At this point, I was totally Phil's. He squeezed and milked my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, tweaking and tugging. His tongue, lips, and teeth alternated between my twin jutting erections, lick and sucking, then biting them until they were so hard that they could have cut diamonds.