Val
Fri, 15 Apr 05, 10:49 PM
After I'd returned to my hospital despite breaking up with the nurse I'd gone there for, I found myself in a passionate embrace just outside Emergency with somebody I'd spent the night chatting to in the bar. The trouble was that I'd been too clever for myself not wanting to rush to the toilet and give her the impression that was it for the night and probably for keeps. At that time, excuses to part usually meant you didn't want to come back, not to make future arrangements. I could hardly pretend to be sober enough to avoid paranoid imaginings about a quick dash to the loo easily turning into a long wait since rather more seemed to be going downstairs than out the door getting her fed up waiting and wandering off.
She lived in the Nurses' Home over the canteen about to start serving nightshift dinner and that connected through tunnels to the hospital where Casualty was necessarily open. Challenged anywhere outside the Home itself, there was no justification in being thrown out. Though male access to the Nurses' Home was not just strengst verboten, the atmosphere had changed with newer years disapproving of boyfriends taking advantage where the older ones felt themselves equal enough to make their own invitations, it hadn't reached the stage yet of ganging up against anybody sneaking a man in.
By the time we were enjoying passionate embraces outside Casualty, I was leaking badly. The sensible thing would have been to tell her. But I was afraid she'd be put off. At the same time, the longer we stayed together, the better chance when I did break it off, of her wanting to see me again. Only the longer we stayed, the more likely she'd expect me indoors and I didn't know how she'd react discovering that I hadn't told her the problem. Like the reporters investigating sexual goings-on none of their or anybody else's business, "I made my excuses and left".
By then, she was disappointed enough to be just plain annoyed at the sudden break and flounced off too annoyed for rendez-vous that might end the same way and probably adding to the presumption I was increasingly up against in changing times, of being gay anyway. Supposing I had told her? And supposing better that she had had the same wet interest as the nurse I'd originally gone there for?
"How wet?" she wanted to know, "It's not as if we haven't all seen it all and been covered in it all sometime in our career". "Very wet", I admitted, feeling another long trickle down my front. "Nothing's showing, let me feel". She was smiling a quirky little smile and I had no objection to showing off, wet or not. She made a good job of it and it certainly helped to hold me back. While she was doing it. "Better get you inside before it goes through and you have some explaining to do tomorrow" was all she said, then "Being female gets you used to wet pants, as well as all the nursing experience. At least I think mine are wet enough now. And I need the loo too".
Maybe it was the need for caution but she did not lead me to any loos that must have been around an area where hoi polloi were allowed to wander about without keepers. I didn't know the ground floor on this side except from gatecrashing a snooty doctors' party a couple of years before and getting thrown out. The ground floor on the other side was this one's basement, where we were headed. Once we got there we had probably passed the point of challengeability. You go so far, everybody assumes your right to be there. Besides, outsiders wouldn't know the way or even that there was a way.
We got under the road and into the night people. This was awkward again because we were early for shift dinner. At the same time, the comuter block had night operators with their own dinner arrangements. She was more unusual than I was. Next problem was to get upstairs without being spotted. She called a lift while I dawdled towards the canteen as if waiting for somebody rather than the other way round and trying not to soak myself enough to show. Walking had not felt as bad, though it hadn't stopped me from spurting, but the idle stroll was different altogether. And I was wearing cream trousers, if loose.
I headed back as if looking for somebody overdue and she grabbed me round the corner and into the life. There were people round the corner but they wouldn't know or care just where we'd disappeared to. "I'm fourth floor", she explained, wrapping herself round me with a hand down the pants I couldn't this time stop myself from wetting. "You are wet, aren't you? And still going, it seems". I returned the compliment but couldn't of course reach further than to tease with her standing wearing trousers. She felt wetter than might be expected so far forward.
"Have to do something about that when we land. Can't have my floor all wet, can I?" "What about other girls in the toilets?" She squeezed, "They're safe. Not circumcised are you? That's nicer than all bare and bashed insensitive. All the little miseries are down below. They must arrange us by year, one floor higher each intake".
We landed and she propelled me, not to the toilet at the end of the corridor but to her room after all. There, she had my my trousers straight down and I couldn't help then letting her watch the whole front of my briefs shimmer before my thighs turned wet. A quick rummage produced a pair of cotton trousers far too short and too wide. "In you go", she told me drawing them up with a wicked smile. "We're all friends on this floor so nobody's going to rat on us. Now, to the bog because if you wet my floor, you won't be uncircumcised when you leave. And I use a nailfile". Her own crotch looked rather dark but it might have been the light. "J had a windowsill full of pot plant pot plants on the fifth until they fell off", I told her, "Don't suppose you know anybody with a hash stash?" Out of luck. "Anyway, she was wasting her time; it's too cold here to grow anything worthwhile".
Somebody stuck her head out of a door ahead, did a double-take and headed in the same direction and she ran up and whispered to her. There were quick giggles and the other one took a good mortifying look at my ankle-displaying hip-hanging definitely stained trousers. More giggles. Then instead of waiting for us, she shot ahead. My friend drew me into the corner and wrapped herself all over me again. "We'll just have to wait", she murmured, rubbing against me, "And I can't any more than you can. And my briefs are skimpier than yours even if they are practical cotton. I wasn't expecting company so I didn't wear the red nylons with black lace". I liked the though of her in red and black though.
It was quite obvious we were both in the same predicament from the warm damp patch spreading round my knee. However hard she pressed, it wasn't hard enough. I was! "Feels nice", she whispered, "You're getting me wet all up where I can't usually do it to myself". The other nurse came out, spotted us as she waltzed me in and burst into giggles again. "Pair of perverts! Well at least you can be happy together instead of hopeful wet dreams. I won'e tell amybody as long you keep up the payments" "Don't get your fingers stuck thinking about us". "Mmm, I'll be thinking about a junior registrar", and she skipped off down the corridor.
I hadn't thought to unzip. Just as well, since she positionned me astride the bowl and watched. I couldn't hold and there obviously wasn't much need to but she reached under and squeezed my testicles. "I don't want you just letting go", she whispered, "I want you to be holding back or held back all the time". Her hand helped. Mine did the same for her as she stood against me until we were both relieved enough for the excitement to prevent uncontrollable leaks. "We'll have to finish deliberately, won't we?" she said.
She stepped back a little to both watch better before embracing again. Then she pulled back. "Sit!", she breathed, pushing me down. She was still standing over me, her legs wide streaming onto me. She opened my pants wide to watch me wet through them before pulling my briefs open to watch me stream up my front while I pulled hers down and she positioned herself so I wet them, then gasped and sat down for a long kiss. Suddenly she got up, pulled her trousers right down and turned round so she could sit less thrust forward and slowly lowered her wet bottom to sit so she was wetting straight through onto my balls and she felt my jet washing at least a little way into her.
We finished like that, pulled our wet pants up and headed back to her room where we slowly stripped each other down to the briefs. "Have to risk the floor I suppose, can't risk the bed though until we're dried off a bit. I'll give you a lovely bed-bath tomorrow because I'm on a Late". "I'm safe till ten-thirty. I work late anyway, catch tea after six and up to the bar. Actually, I get far more work written on my own than wandering about daytime taking about it". At that time, I was walking two miles to a grotty bedsit so hardly spent any time there. "That's what we thought watching you lot chatting over coffee all the time". We spent a long time on the towel on the floor until we dried each other off except where she mattered enough to transfer it to the bed slowly getting each other's damp knickers off. She had an excellent aim for the radiator.
She lived in the Nurses' Home over the canteen about to start serving nightshift dinner and that connected through tunnels to the hospital where Casualty was necessarily open. Challenged anywhere outside the Home itself, there was no justification in being thrown out. Though male access to the Nurses' Home was not just strengst verboten, the atmosphere had changed with newer years disapproving of boyfriends taking advantage where the older ones felt themselves equal enough to make their own invitations, it hadn't reached the stage yet of ganging up against anybody sneaking a man in.
By the time we were enjoying passionate embraces outside Casualty, I was leaking badly. The sensible thing would have been to tell her. But I was afraid she'd be put off. At the same time, the longer we stayed together, the better chance when I did break it off, of her wanting to see me again. Only the longer we stayed, the more likely she'd expect me indoors and I didn't know how she'd react discovering that I hadn't told her the problem. Like the reporters investigating sexual goings-on none of their or anybody else's business, "I made my excuses and left".
By then, she was disappointed enough to be just plain annoyed at the sudden break and flounced off too annoyed for rendez-vous that might end the same way and probably adding to the presumption I was increasingly up against in changing times, of being gay anyway. Supposing I had told her? And supposing better that she had had the same wet interest as the nurse I'd originally gone there for?
"How wet?" she wanted to know, "It's not as if we haven't all seen it all and been covered in it all sometime in our career". "Very wet", I admitted, feeling another long trickle down my front. "Nothing's showing, let me feel". She was smiling a quirky little smile and I had no objection to showing off, wet or not. She made a good job of it and it certainly helped to hold me back. While she was doing it. "Better get you inside before it goes through and you have some explaining to do tomorrow" was all she said, then "Being female gets you used to wet pants, as well as all the nursing experience. At least I think mine are wet enough now. And I need the loo too".
Maybe it was the need for caution but she did not lead me to any loos that must have been around an area where hoi polloi were allowed to wander about without keepers. I didn't know the ground floor on this side except from gatecrashing a snooty doctors' party a couple of years before and getting thrown out. The ground floor on the other side was this one's basement, where we were headed. Once we got there we had probably passed the point of challengeability. You go so far, everybody assumes your right to be there. Besides, outsiders wouldn't know the way or even that there was a way.
We got under the road and into the night people. This was awkward again because we were early for shift dinner. At the same time, the comuter block had night operators with their own dinner arrangements. She was more unusual than I was. Next problem was to get upstairs without being spotted. She called a lift while I dawdled towards the canteen as if waiting for somebody rather than the other way round and trying not to soak myself enough to show. Walking had not felt as bad, though it hadn't stopped me from spurting, but the idle stroll was different altogether. And I was wearing cream trousers, if loose.
I headed back as if looking for somebody overdue and she grabbed me round the corner and into the life. There were people round the corner but they wouldn't know or care just where we'd disappeared to. "I'm fourth floor", she explained, wrapping herself round me with a hand down the pants I couldn't this time stop myself from wetting. "You are wet, aren't you? And still going, it seems". I returned the compliment but couldn't of course reach further than to tease with her standing wearing trousers. She felt wetter than might be expected so far forward.
"Have to do something about that when we land. Can't have my floor all wet, can I?" "What about other girls in the toilets?" She squeezed, "They're safe. Not circumcised are you? That's nicer than all bare and bashed insensitive. All the little miseries are down below. They must arrange us by year, one floor higher each intake".
We landed and she propelled me, not to the toilet at the end of the corridor but to her room after all. There, she had my my trousers straight down and I couldn't help then letting her watch the whole front of my briefs shimmer before my thighs turned wet. A quick rummage produced a pair of cotton trousers far too short and too wide. "In you go", she told me drawing them up with a wicked smile. "We're all friends on this floor so nobody's going to rat on us. Now, to the bog because if you wet my floor, you won't be uncircumcised when you leave. And I use a nailfile". Her own crotch looked rather dark but it might have been the light. "J had a windowsill full of pot plant pot plants on the fifth until they fell off", I told her, "Don't suppose you know anybody with a hash stash?" Out of luck. "Anyway, she was wasting her time; it's too cold here to grow anything worthwhile".
Somebody stuck her head out of a door ahead, did a double-take and headed in the same direction and she ran up and whispered to her. There were quick giggles and the other one took a good mortifying look at my ankle-displaying hip-hanging definitely stained trousers. More giggles. Then instead of waiting for us, she shot ahead. My friend drew me into the corner and wrapped herself all over me again. "We'll just have to wait", she murmured, rubbing against me, "And I can't any more than you can. And my briefs are skimpier than yours even if they are practical cotton. I wasn't expecting company so I didn't wear the red nylons with black lace". I liked the though of her in red and black though.
It was quite obvious we were both in the same predicament from the warm damp patch spreading round my knee. However hard she pressed, it wasn't hard enough. I was! "Feels nice", she whispered, "You're getting me wet all up where I can't usually do it to myself". The other nurse came out, spotted us as she waltzed me in and burst into giggles again. "Pair of perverts! Well at least you can be happy together instead of hopeful wet dreams. I won'e tell amybody as long you keep up the payments" "Don't get your fingers stuck thinking about us". "Mmm, I'll be thinking about a junior registrar", and she skipped off down the corridor.
I hadn't thought to unzip. Just as well, since she positionned me astride the bowl and watched. I couldn't hold and there obviously wasn't much need to but she reached under and squeezed my testicles. "I don't want you just letting go", she whispered, "I want you to be holding back or held back all the time". Her hand helped. Mine did the same for her as she stood against me until we were both relieved enough for the excitement to prevent uncontrollable leaks. "We'll have to finish deliberately, won't we?" she said.
She stepped back a little to both watch better before embracing again. Then she pulled back. "Sit!", she breathed, pushing me down. She was still standing over me, her legs wide streaming onto me. She opened my pants wide to watch me wet through them before pulling my briefs open to watch me stream up my front while I pulled hers down and she positioned herself so I wet them, then gasped and sat down for a long kiss. Suddenly she got up, pulled her trousers right down and turned round so she could sit less thrust forward and slowly lowered her wet bottom to sit so she was wetting straight through onto my balls and she felt my jet washing at least a little way into her.
We finished like that, pulled our wet pants up and headed back to her room where we slowly stripped each other down to the briefs. "Have to risk the floor I suppose, can't risk the bed though until we're dried off a bit. I'll give you a lovely bed-bath tomorrow because I'm on a Late". "I'm safe till ten-thirty. I work late anyway, catch tea after six and up to the bar. Actually, I get far more work written on my own than wandering about daytime taking about it". At that time, I was walking two miles to a grotty bedsit so hardly spent any time there. "That's what we thought watching you lot chatting over coffee all the time". We spent a long time on the towel on the floor until we dried each other off except where she mattered enough to transfer it to the bed slowly getting each other's damp knickers off. She had an excellent aim for the radiator.