My Angel of Mercy

Too late, a surly voice from somewhere inside piped up.

Shut up! I told it. I am perfectly capable of being a professional about this.

Yeah, right... I don't think the surly voice was listening to me. Maybe because it knew I'd already decided that if Mr. Foster needed relief, I would try giving him a blowjob. I'd spent some time before work surfing the internet, making sure I had the general idea and trying to find some of the best techniques for pleasuring a man. I didn't want to seem completely naïve. But honestly, based on how swollen he was, I wasn't at all sure I could do some of them, although two good-sized bananas gave their lives at dinner for the cause.

* * * * *

The door swished open and my angel appeared. The night lights were already on and I'd been trying to doze. I'd spent the evening seeing if there were some way I could hump a pillow to get relief. I'd failed miserably and finally gave up.

"Hi, Kayla," I smiled at her as she approached, reading something in her hand. "Any way you could put a shot of Jack Daniels in the IV?"

That startled her, and she looked up at me very disapprovingly. "And bypass your liver and kidneys?" she asked in a very accusatory tone. "Thank you, but I'd rather not kill you, if you don't mind."

"How about in the mouth, then?" I teased. She snorted.

"It is a clear liquid, true," she parried. "It is also about 40% alcohol by volume, which will seriously pickle you if your body can't process it fast enough."

"And..." she mused, affecting an air of serious reflection, "the bubbles in beer and champagne would wreak havoc with your digestive system." She cocked her head to the side and looked at me as if making a decision. "No," she stated, "you'd best stick to whine."

"Whine?" I bit, thinking I'd misheard her.

"Yeah, you know..." she smiled and I knew she'd got me. "You whine about this, you whine about that... little problems..." She paused and looked at the tenting. "Big problems..."

I started laughing. I couldn't help it. It hurt, but it didn't matter.

"Well, at least somebody's in decent spirits," she told me.

"That's because you're here," I told her. I think she might have blushed a little.

"So you're on solid foods and doing rather well," she commented, looking at my chart. "They don't want the dressings on your arms changed for at least another 24 hours, but I need to do the ones on your back. Are you going to give me any trouble, Mr. Foster?"

"Not at all," I assured her. "I'll need help turning over. I can't get much leverage with my arms. And somebody's got to keep my problem out of the way."

"I thought as much," she smiled slightly. "Okay, mindful of the IV, Mr. Foster, and roll up on your side. I'll help you move the rest of the way. Or at least as much as I need, to change your dressings."

I decided it wouldn't be a good idea to screw around with her at this point, and I did seriously try to do what she wanted. I sort of succeeded and she sort of helped me finish. Her holding my cock up against my belly as I rolled forward onto it was pleasant... and I didn't get any shooting pains, thank God.

She started working on my back as I lay there, commenting on how nicely I was healing and how it was surprising for a man my age and so forth. She expressed hope that the vertebra, disc and nerves would soon heal enough to relieve my problem. And she had my bandages changed out in short order. Then she helped me get back onto my back.

She also took a moment to "adjust" me so the sheets weren't pressing on me so hard. Her touch felt wonderful, and she had this slight smile while she was doing it.

"So, not too shabby for a decrepit, ancient, pervert, huh?" I asked as she handled me. I couldn't resist teasing her. The chuckle I got was music to my ears.

"No, not too shabby," she agreed. "A lot of swollen, bruised tissue that's probably being damaged beyond repair by the continued excessive engorgement, but no... not too shabby."

"Well, Angel," I backpedalled quickly. "You certainly have an effective way of putting me in my place."

"Let's not talk about places I might want to put you, Mr. Foster. Okay?" The words flowed off her tongue with the greatest of ease, and I figured she was just teasing back, but foremost in my mind was Holy Shit!... Did she just suggest what I think she was suggesting??? Oh, fuck...

"Um... okay," I agreed. I wasn't happy about it, but I agreed.

"Are you hungry, Mr. Foster?"

"Excuse me?" I was caught daydreaming about her, though she wouldn't know that.

"My Charge Nurse assigned me to you tonight," she explained, then broke into a smile. "So your comfort and happiness is my primary goal. I was wondering if you were hungry?"

"You mean for food?" Please, God, let her be thinking about something else...

"Well, that, too..." Thank you, God! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

"Would you mind closing the door, Kayla? So we can have a private conversation?" This was too good to be true. She walked to the door, closed it and came back.

"I have some personal issues to confess, Kayla, and I don't want you to freak out, okay?"

"Whatever you say, Mr. Foster." She sat on the edge of the bed to listen, studiously avoiding creating any discomfort.

"Okay, to start, what you did for me last night was wonderful. A miracle. One I will be grateful for, to you, for the rest of my life. I'm sure you can see in my chart, my problem is back. In fact, I think it was you who told me it would be. Now, even without this problem, I'm a horndog... you know what a horndog is, Kayla?"

"A sexually excited or desirous person," she quoted some dictionary.

"Yes, and it's a bit more than that. I'm an opportunist, Kayla. Generally speaking, I'll bed anything that wears a skirt and will hold still. Actually, it doesn't even have to hold still. I suppose there are some Scotsmen who may be in trouble."

She smiled at my joke but didn't interrupt or respond. She just listened.

"So, the thing is, I feel pretty guilty about taking advantage of someone who is sweet and innocent like you. You are damned attractive to me and it isn't just because of the sex. There is something really good about you, which is why I call you Angel. Usually, feeling guilty wouldn't stop me. But it is now."

"I don't want to pressure you into doing anything you don't want to do, and I don't want to suggest that it's your professional duty to provide the kind of pain relief I need. If there's an old bag out there on this shift that would jerk me off, maybe it would be better to tell her to come in and help me out. I don't want to corrupt you."

She looked at me for several long moments, obviously thinking, before she asked me a question.

"Mr. Foster, how would providing comfort through sexual relief be corrupting?" The confused look on her face led me to believe she meant the question. She really didn't know.

"Well, I wouldn't want to play on your emotions, maybe get you to crush on me so you'd want to have a lot of sex with me, maybe even after I get the fuck out of this hospital. I don't want to screw up any kind of normal life you might have. How old are you, Kayla?"

"Twenty-two, Mr. Foster," she told me. "I'll be twenty-three next month."

"I'm sixty-six, Kayla. Three times your age. I feel so good about you, I might try to go for a romantic relationship; sweep you off your feet with my experience and sophistication. Teach you all kinds of ways to experience pleasure, including some very naughty ones. I would try to seduce you to be mine and only mine. And that's all the above-board stuff. That's part of how I'd screw up your life."

She was silent again for quite a bit before she answered. Then she derailed the conversation.

"Mr. Foster, before we go on with this discussion, would you mind if I checked your problem?"

She was my nurse and I was interfering with her work, so I just shrugged and leaned back. She took down the covers and gently held my throbbing cock.

"I take it the pain is back," she commented. "Not just the erection." I nodded. She leaned down to take a closer look. And put half my cock in her mouth.

"Kayla! What are you doing? I don't want to hurt you!" She didn't answer me.

Instead, she began a languorous blowjob. Honest to God. I didn't ask her to, I didn't suggest it, nothing. She just started sucking on me and driving me nuts. And doing an incredible job.

Not only was she sucking up and down on me like a popsicle, she was running her tongue around both my shaft and my glans. And she'd suck up against my flare until it popped out of her mouth, then go right back down again. I was so ready for this, I was not going to last very long. Maybe that was her intent.

Then she took it to the next level. Apparently encouraged by my increasing moans and writhing, she started taking me deeper. It took me a few moments to realize she was trying to deepthroat me.

"Kayla, no, please," I told her. "You're going to hurt yourself that way. You said you don't have any experience. I don't want to be the reason you end up in this hospital's ER because of a throat-fucking."

"Don't worry, Mr. Foster," she told me, coming off my cock for a moment. "I'll figure it out. I've done a lot of reading."

Oh, my God, please help this angel not make a mistake and hurt herself, I pleaded to the Almighty. I don't ask for much and you got no reason to give, but please, if you're listening, don't let her get...

"O'M'Gmmphh!!" I had slammed a pillow over my face to mute the outcry. I was going to cum. And I realized her lips were brushing my ball-sack. This little angel was determined, and her throat was bulging because I was down it. I looked for the call paddle. I wanted to be able to call someone if she started to choke or something.

Then I went over. There just wasn't any choice in the matter. And that tenacious beauty stayed right where she was and milked me for every drop. I came so hard I had little lights flashing in my eyes - and they were closed. I opened them and looked at her and I swear I was falling in love. Not just lust. Love. And that was going to be bad.

I watched as she withdrew my now shrinking hard-on from her mouth, licked her lips, turned to me and smiled.

"Was that okay for my second time?" she asked. Oh, God...

"Kayla that was wonderful! And because you are so wonderful, you're going to have to help me to the bathroom in a moment," I told her. "But why didn't you listen to me? My hornies are going to screw you up. I don't want that."

"I like you, Mr. Foster," she told me as she started to tidy up, getting ready to take me to the head. "You fascinate me. I may even be 'crushing' on you, like you said. But I don't see anything wrong with that. And it has nothing to do with you saving the Schneider family. I'm learning a lot from you and I appreciate it. I don't think there's any way you're corrupting me."

I decided not to argue. This was one smart woman. "This was another first time for you, Kayla," I decided to point out. "Deepthroating. You didn't do that before."

"I didn't know if I'd be able to," she admitted as she moved to help me stand up. "Half the internet videos make it look easy, the other half painful. I think you're somewhere in between."

I just shook my head as she helped me make my way to the toilet. I sat there thinking about this angel - this real angel - and hoped I wasn't screwing her up. It was out of my hands, pun intended. She helped me get back in the bed and tucked me in, making sure to leave plenty of easement around my cock, even though at the moment it was blessedly flaccid.

"Who did you say was on that boat?" I asked. Her comment had just bubbled to the surface of my brain.

"The Schneider family," she told me. "Stephen Schneider and brood. Grandson of Roy Schneider, ex-Governor of the islands and namesake of this hospital."

"Holy fuck..." I mumbled. "And I called him an Asshole..."

"Goodnight, Mr. Foster," she smiled as she got ready to leave.

"Alexander," I told her.

"What?" she asked, stopping in confusion.

"My name is Alexander. Or Alex for short. If you intend to stay this intimate with me, maybe you should start calling me Alex."

"Okay, Mr. Alex Foster," she smiled and I melted. "Sleep tight."

She left and I fell out.

* * * * *

Oh, my God, I don't believe I did that! I was sitting in a stall in the women's room and masturbating. I needed the relief and I needed it badly. Taking care of Mr. Foster... Alex... was overwhelmingly exciting, and yet I needed to set my needs aside and take care of him. I could get my own relief later.

He was huge! He'd felt bigger in my throat than my hand, or just looking at him. And I did it! My butterflies were doing a little Happy Dance. I'd managed to take him all the way down my throat... and make him cum! Guess I was becoming a good little slut.

Except I didn't feel like a slut. I felt like a healer... a person who could bring him the blessed relief he so richly deserved. Maybe he was right, maybe I was an angel. At least, functionally, for him. Really, all I could hope for was to be the best for him that I knew how.

And speaking of best, God!... the memories of stroking and sucking him had me so wired, I was panting and shaking from my third crashing cum when Rita's voice echoed in the bathroom, reminding me that when I was done, we had other patients to look after as well.

One thing he said kept bugging me as I did the rest of my rounds and wrote out my notes. Well, actually two things. But the first was him pointing out our age difference, like somehow that mattered. He'd admitted he felt so good towards me, he might see me romantically. Well... what was the matter with that?

He was a handsome man, even banged up. He was caring, or he wouldn't have risked his life to save the Schneiders. I guess he might be a pensioner, but he obviously took care of himself. Other than outliving him, I didn't see a problem with being "swept off my feet" and falling in love. But he did.

I'd have to be careful about that. I'd have to be sure my "crush" on him didn't show. He was just my special patient with special needs who happened to be the sexiest man I'd ever met.

Yeah, right... that surly part of me piped up. You've fallen for him and you know it. He is way out of your league. Hell, you're still a virgin. Want to guess how many women he's bedded in his lifetime? Why would he be interested in shy little inexperienced you?

That was the other thing. I was inexperienced, and Mr. Foster... Alex... was trying valiantly to protect me from myself. I really didn't like that. I was right on the edge of changing my virginal status and getting it out of my way. Problem was, I'd want it to be him. And he wasn't exactly in the best of circumstances for deflowering me. That particular part of the problem ate at me for quite awhile. I needed an answer...

* * * * *

Kayla had worked her angelic magic again. I went out like a light, missed breakfast and woke up around noon, hungry and with that damned erection. And because it was Saturday, Louise wasn't working. I got Nurse Nancy instead. Probably a cousin to Nurse Ratched. She was cold and tyrannical, and repeatedly made comments about my "condition" requiring catheterization. If she even tried, she'd find out I didn't need my bandaged hands to defend myself.

Anyway, the time I spent not dodging Nurse Rat-shit, I spent thinking about Kayla. I was really starting to obsess on her and for all the wrong reasons. In retrospect, I think I'd fallen for her and was trying to screw it up so I didn't screw her up. I mean, c'mon... how many December-May relationships work out, anyway? She'd outlive me, having to take care of me while I wasted away from some stupid disease or other, and if she wanted kids, I wouldn't be around very long to help raise them...

This is the kind of obsessing I was doing. I was already imagining us married and with kids, and all the things wrong with that scenario. Plus the fact that she had to be a virgin, based on her comments about the handjob and blowjob being her "first" and "second" sexual experiences with a male.

And yet, I was desperate to see her again. Screw the erection problem, she lighted up the room when she walked in, even with all the lights off. She'd gotten to me, and I wasn't doing a very good job of fighting it off.

* * * * *

I was afraid Nancy would mess things up for Alex. I mean, Mr. Foster. It was Saturday, going into Sunday, and even though I was still on my normal shift, Rita wouldn't be there tonight. Barbara would be the Charge Nurse, and I hoped she'd realize how important it was that I get assigned to him. Nancy would have had the first shift, and that woman was a battleaxe witch if ever there was one. She liked screwing with patients because she could. I had to have faith that Mr. Foster could stand up for himself.

Second shift on the weekend would have been Mary, and anybody she'd assigned to him would have been fine. They were all caring women... well, I suppose Tony isn't a woman, but he's still caring... and I don't think they would have given him any trouble.

So I was pretty nervous when it got to shift change and we were getting turnover. My guess is, Rita must have said something to Barbara, because I got assigned to Mr. Foster without any questions or comments. I got his chart and he seemed to be doing pretty well. His vitals were all pretty normal, his food intake was down some, but he was on a normal diet, and his back was doing much, much better.

I had to smile when I saw Nancy's clinical recounting of how Mr. Foster refused the catheter, with promises of severe damage to favorite parts of her anatomy if she tried. He probably should get used to the idea of a catheter, I mused as I read. I'm not going to be around to take care of him all the time, and God knows how long it's going to take that vertebra to heal.

I took care of my other patients first, making sure everyone was as comfortable as possible, which sometimes isn't much when you're recovering from some kind of trauma. But I did the best I could. I always did the best I could. Then I went to see Alex.

"Hi!" I greeted him as I entered and closed the door. He was sitting up, partially, and the night lights were on. "How's my favorite patient?"

"Bored," he told me bluntly. "I can't hold a book to read, I hate television, and conversation around here is limited to what's wrong with my body and what should be done about it. And I still can't get the taste of Nurse Ratched out of my mouth."

"But..." and he grinned, "my favorite angel has arrived and all will be right with the world shortly, after she purges the room of all those evil spirits."

I had to smile as I checked his vitals and the dressing on his back. Most of the incisions from removing the shrapnel were well healed. This man had amazing recuperative powers, especially for a man in his mid-sixties. My father was nearing his sixties and he wasn't in nearly as good of a shape. Dr. Carlton would see to the burns on his arms on Monday. I suspected he'd be in hospital for a good month for those. Deep partial thickness second degree burns, according to the ER notes. Those could leave scarring, though he should have full use of his hands and arms.

"Mr. Foster..."

"Alex..."

"Okay," I smiled, "Mr. Alex. Do you have anyone living with you at home?" I was wondering about wound care after they discharged him. Plus any physical therapy that might be needed.

"Why?" he smiled. "Are you applying for the position?" I actually blushed. I couldn't help it. Partly because it was so suggestive... and partly because it was so attractive. I really needed to stay professional with this man.