Dis-Orderly Orderly
by Rumple Foreskin

* I was, hauling ass across town, dodging drunks and running red lights, while this sexy blonde nurse gobbled on my Johnson like it was the last dark meat on earth and she hadn’t eating in a month. In-fucking-credible.

What made the whole scene even wilder was her being the evening supervisor where I worked, in other words, the chick, Donna Faircloth, was my boss, and married, and I’d just hit on her a few hours ago. Talk about unreal.

I’d been thinking, make that damn near obsessing, about nailing her since my first day on the job. I’m a senior pre-med student and work part-time as an orderly, usually on her ward.

Now a lot of dudes get off on hustling white chicks. Not me. I’ve made it with a couple of them and, to tell you the truth, they were lousy lays. So Donna being white wasn’t that big a deal—just a nice bonus.

The weird thing is, I’d have liked her even if she wasn’t white or an instant hard-on. I’m not bullshitting when I say she’s even nicer than she looks-and that’s saying a helluva a lot. I mean, she’s smart but easy to talk to, friendly as hell, never seemed hung up about my being black, and unlike a lot of the RN’s I’ve known, doesn’t sit on her ass and dump on the rest of the staff.

The thing is, you’d have to be dead or nuts or gay not to want her. She’s cute as hell with short blonde hair, nice legs, and a cuddly body that looks custom-made for serious fucking.

I’d been waiting for the right time to make a move on her, although I didn’t have much hope. She always seemed the happily married type. And while she didn’t mind flirting, you could tell she wasn’t into fooling around. Besides, even if she did agree, Brenda, my old lady, is jealous as hell and always watches me like a hawk.

Now don’t get me wrong, Brenda’s a classy looking fox in her own right. She’s tall, with these great long legs but, well, she’s on the skinny side, like a fashion model. In fact, she’s done a little modeling.

The problem is she’s not really that interested in sex, at least not since we’ve been married. About once a month would be just fine with her. So maybe now you understand why I may like, even respect, Donna, but can’t help being totally turned on by her.

Anyway, having old “hawk-eye” out of town this week visiting relatives, I knew it was now or never. Yesterday I kinda chickened out though ‘cause we were busy as hell and Donna seemed moody and distracted. In fact, she’d been acting a little strange for a week or so. But today one of the aides said Donna and her old man were fighting. That explained her bad mood and gave me the perfect opening.

We’d often talked about sex and I’d told her all about Brenda’s super-low sex drive. So when we were alone, getting ready to hand out the evening medications, I used her familiarity with my situation to take my shot.

“Lady, you’re acting all tense and nervous, like I do when Brenda’s been playing real hard-to-get. You and old Clay having problems?”

She sighed and nodded. “Clay hasn’t been what you’d call overly affectionate since I became supervisor. Last week, we got into a big fight—our first. That’s made things even worse.”

I adopted my “shuck & jive” teasing voice, “Man, I can’t imagine any self-respecting dude not wanting to get it on all night long with a fine lady like you.”

“You’re sweet to say that, Malcolm, even if it’s not true. It’s funny, but that’s just how I really feel about you and Brenda. Of course, it’s not funny--not for either of us. Believe me, I’ve learned just how much it hurts.” She looked across the meds cart and gave me an empathetic smile.

This was the time and place. I tried to smile and act casual. “Well, you know, maybe the two of us should look into easing each other’s pain. Like, maybe after work.”

She hesitated for what seemed like forever. You could almost see her mind working, trying to sort things out. “Malcolm, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

Something told me not to make a smart-ass remark, so I just keep my gaze locked onto her big eyes and made this super-small nod. At first she didn’t say a thing, just stared right back. After what seemed forever, she gave me this little half-smile, whispered, “Well, okay,” and my heart started beating again.

After that, the damn shift seemed to last forever. I kept worrying she might change her mind. But she didn't back out. Back out, hell. I’m here to testify that fine, white leg was ready to party.

To throw off any suspicion, we agreed she’d leave work first and meet me in the parking lot of an all-night café over on the other side of town. She was out of her car and into mine the moment I pulled up beside her.

The first thing I did was lean over and kiss her. I wanted to find out if her lips were as warm and soft and sweet as they looked. And I’m here to tell you, they were.

I moved back behind the wheel, but she kept looking at me. Those big blue eyes were half-closed Her moist lips were slightly parted. What I’m trying to say is she looked so damn fine, so sexy, so inviting, I didn’t know if I could wait until we got to the alley.

That sweet face and luscious body were enough to raise the dead. Knowing all those goodies were about to be mine for the taking was an incredible rush. My stomach was all knotted up with excitement and I could feel old Roscoe twitching in anticipation. I’d gotten so hot for that smooth, creamy flesh, it almost made me cross-eyed. For just a second, I thought about jumping her right there. But I didn’t want any interruptions, so I just stroked one of her knees, then I made myself shift gears and get the hell out of there.

I hadn’t hit the first red light before she started taking her shoes off. The next thing you know, she’s hiking up the short skirt to her white, nurse’s uniform and pulling off her panty hose and panties. I couldn’t help looking, of course, and got a great view of some fine thighs plus a glimpse of her silky little bush. It was all such a dick-straining vision, we nearly wrecked.

After saying something about my driving, she handed me her panties. A moment later, her lips were against my ear. While working it over, she asked where we were going. I told her, then just as I noticed the crotch to her panties was soaked, she began unzipping my fly.

I was so stiff and long by that time, she had to unbuckle my belt and unsnap my pants. If old Roscoe had only known what was coming, he’d been fighting to get out. For right there in the front seat, while I was trying to negotiate the late night traffic, she started giving him a blowjob.

You better believe it’s one out-of-this-fucking-world experience to be driving down the street weaving between cars and trying to avoid the winos while a foxy, blonde chick is going down on you. And let me tell you, she was making like a Hoover, keeping me right on the edge of losing my load.

Now I’ve never really been into oral sex, but when she slowly slid her tongue up and down the shaft, I thought I’d fucking died and gone to heaven. It got even better when she circled the tip of her tongue around my swollen knob, then slowly sucked it back in past her lips and teeth until she had my entire cock head back inside her mouth. After swirling her tongue around it for a minute, she started sucking again.

Man, you can’t imagine how glad I was when we finally turned into that alley. While I eased the car toward the back, where we wouldn’t be seen from the road, she stopped sucking, raised her head and looked around. “Are we there, yet daddy?” she asked, giving me this sexy, shit-eating grin. When I said yes, she gave Roscoe a final kiss, then hauled her sweet young ass into the back.

Now in my opinion, it’s real important for a dude to always maintain his cool, especially around a chick. That’s not easy though when your rock-hard boner is still damp from her mouth. So after parking, I took a deep breath to settle my nerves, turned off the motor and lights, turned down the radio, which was just playing disco shit anyway, and pushed in the lighter. We'd have a cigarette first, I figured, then get down to business.

But when I asked if she wanted a smoke, she replied in a low, absolutely un-fucking-believably sexy voice, "What do you think, Malcolm?"

Naturally, I turned around. What I saw, even in that dim light, damn near turned me to stone. Stretched out on the back seat of my old car was the sexiest sight I’d ever seen. This drop-dead gorgeous chick was lying buck-naked on her back and looking up at me with those soft, blue, bedroom eyes of hers while giving me a come hither smile that was an open invitation to fuck. What's more, she was slowly stroking a fine looking boob with one hand while casually running the fingertips of the other hand through her tiny, blonde bush.

Believe me, I checked out every inch of her righteous bod. But after seeing her trim little snatch, I couldn’t look away, at least not until I heard her say something like, "So tell me Malcolm, is a cigarette what you really want the most right now? I mean, if it is, well, that's okay with…."

Now don’t ask me if that’s exactly what she said, because the truth is my brain had gone numb. The only thing I knew was that I’d landed in the middle of a real-life fantasy and was about to fuck the hottest looking chick I'd ever known. Well, to be honest, I also knew I sure as hell didn’t want any cigarette.

I remember shouting something about, "No fucking way!" then scrambling into the back seat and landing right between those beautiful, wide-open legs. After briefly grinding my mouth against hers, I slid down and got a double lip-lock on one of her hard pink nipples. All this time I’m struggling to get my uniform off. Once that was done, I moved back up until old Roscoe nosed into the juncture of those smooth, perfect thighs.

Like I’ve said, it’s important for a dude to maintain his cool, so I kept kissing her until I couldn’t wait any longer. Breaking the kiss, I rose up slightly, and slapped on my best smile. I wanted to watch her reaction when my big, black Johnson sliced fast and deep into that blonde-haired pussy.

To make sure I had a clear shot, I gently lifted and spread her legs. She didn’t object, just scooted around a little to get comfortable. We stayed in that position for a minute, body-on-body, hip-to-hip, motionless and expectant. I could see the lust in her eyes, smell the aroma of need mixed with her perfume, and feel her warm, pale skin shivering with excitement. This chick wanted it bad.

But so did I. And being a real gent, I didn’t want to keep her waiting. The moment old Roscoe plunged into her body I saw her face scrunch up and heard her gasp. When he hit the inner most recesses of her pussy, she shuddered, her head jerked back, her lips formed a small "O" and she moaned, “Oh, yes.” I’d been right about her body. There might not be much of it, but what she did have was prime and able to handle every inch I could give.

I paused while her pussy clutched around the entire length of my hard, dark meat. There was no rush and I wanted to savor it all: The sensation of her tight pussy squeezing my Johnson, The feel of her warm, agile little body under me, and maybe most of all, the sounds of her soft moans and quick breaths as she waited for me to start pounding into that smooth, creamy flesh.

But it was impossible to stay still so I didn’t keep her waiting for long. I began pumping old Roscoe in and out of that juicy, blonde snatch, listening as she let out a cry of pure passion. Wrapping her arms and legs around my body, she began matching my downward plunges with equally urgent, upward thrusts of her own. Within seconds, I could tell she was having a mind-blowing orgasm.

I didn't slow down to let her savor the afterglow, just kept pounding my hammer into her. Before I knew what was happening, she started coming again. The feel of that dynamite little bod twisting and shaking under me was fucking fantastic. I never wanted to stop, just keep nailing her hard and fast until she either begged for mercy or I died in the saddle with a big grin on my face.

By now I could tell she’d lost track of everything but the feel of old Roscoe making like a jackhammer in and out of her silky snatch. I lifted my upper body off her and watched in amazement as she began having one quick orgasm after another. I’d never known any chick, black or white, who did that.

During one climax, she was moaning and tossing her head from side to side while her fingers dug at my back. The moment after that one peaked, she gasped and her body jerked hard. I couldn’t believe it. This chick was having another one. This time her pussy squeezed so hard, it nearly forced me out of that slippery little hole.

The feeling was so great it started me building toward my own orgasm. But this was such an incredible fuck, I wanted to enjoy it a little longer. So I changed my position, then began using long, slow strokes.

Maybe it was the new position, maybe the new pace, but suddenly her arms were wrapped around my neck and she was hugging me close, moaning, “Oh, yes. Oh, Malcolm-yes!” while thrusting her hips up to met my every stroke.

Hearing her say my name like that was too much. It triggered a humongous surge of passion that made a joke out of my trying to keep from coming. For the first time ever, I could appreciate the old line about, "cracking your nuts." Mine seemed to explode and I felt my load surging down my shaft, then erupt deep inside her marvelous, clutching cunt.

Meanwhile, she must have been having her own mother of an orgasm. The pressure inside her pussy became unbelievable. When she shouted, “Oh, yes!” it sounded like she’d just won the lottery. Her hips sprang off the car seat as her body became a stiff bow. I grabbed her hips and with one final lunge, drilled old Roscoe in deep and hard as the last of my cum poured into her hot, churning pussy.

I’ve got no idea how long we stayed locked together like that. But finally she sighed and slumped back onto the car seat. A moment later, I lost all control over my body and collapsed on top of her. Like I said before, I’m a whole lot bigger but she didn’t complain. Instead, she slowly stroked my sweaty back while we both tried to recover.

It turned out to be a super fast recovery time. We never changed positions. Instead, we stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing and talking while she gently coaxed old Roscoe back to life.

That second session lasted a lot longer which made it even better. Afterward, I felt totally satisfied for the first time in months, but I also felt completely exhausted. It made me wonder whether I’d nailed her or she’d nailed me. But it didn’t matter.

Donna Faircloth might be married, white, and my boss but she was also sexy as hell, fun to be with, and one of the finest pieces of ass I’d ever had. So it didn’t matter who was the hammer and who the nail. I had to have her again, and real damn soon.

Unfortunately, soon took a lot longer coming than I’d wanted to wait. Our schedules were so screwed up; it was over two weeks before we could hook up again. And by then, I’d lived to see a miracle.

Brenda came back from visiting her folks all lovey-dovey and with a positive attitude toward sex. Apparently, someone back home, my guess is it was her feisty old Grandma, must have gotten wind of what wasn’t happening in our bedroom and given her a real attitude adjustment.

You better believe, I was enjoying every minute of Brenda’s new sexuality. And you know, if she’d always been that way, I doubt if I’d ever risked making a move on Donna. But I did, and when we did, her loving was absolutely addictive. So no matter what Brenda was like now, I couldn’t kick my need for Donna’s loving.

Of course I didn’t mention any of this to her. As long as she and her husband were fighting and she thought Brenda wasn’t putting out for me, Donna had an excuse for what we were doing. And since I had this need to do her again, not saying anything about Brenda was the only logical choice.

Our next chance came on a Saturday when we both were scheduled to work the evening shift. Brenda was leaving town that morning on an overnight trip with the church choir. Donna said her old man would be booking all weekend for some heavy tests. Her plan was to leave their apartment early after telling him she was going shopping and was taking her uniform so she could change at work. That evening she’d call and say she had to work late.

I got us a room at the Magnolia Motel. It was a cheap but nice enough place tucked away just outside of town. The moment I locked the door behind us, we were all over each other, kissing at the same time we were pulling off each other's clothes. When we were both down to wristwatches and smiles, I picked her up and carried her over to the bed.

It’s not like I was trying to be romantic, you see; I was just in a rush. Anyway, I bent over so she could reach down and pull back the covers, then I carefully laid her on the sheets. At first, I just stood and drank in the view of that pale, perfect body waiting for me. When I couldn’t wait any longer, I crawled in between her wide-open legs. Like I said before, at work Donna was always friendly but professional. And while she had a good sense of humor, she was quiet, maybe even a little shy. However, I’d learned that once she committed to making love, it was like all her inhibitions just vanished. Let me give you an example. After I shot my first wad, which took a lot longer than in the car, I’d rolled off and we lay side-by-side holding hands and trying to recuperate.

I was thinking about asking if she wanted a cigarette Without a word of warning, she kinda rolled on top of me, gave me a kiss, then slowly spun around until she was face—to-face with old Roscoe. What can I tell you, there never seems to be enough time to smoke when we’re together.

Now Like I told you, I’ve never been into oral sex, either giving or receiving. If a gal wants to gobble on my Johnson, like Donna did when we were driving to the ally, that’s okay with me. But it’s not my favorite thing and there’s no way in hell I’m going to return the favor.

Of course, I wasn’t sure that’s what she had in mind. After all, old Roscoe wasn’t exactly looking his best, if you know what I mean. But before I could decide whether to say something about hosing him down, I’ll be damned if she didn’t pop his well-used cockhead into her mouth.

“Oh wow, that’s fucking unreal, lady. But, uh, don’t you want to, you know, I mean, he’s kinda messy and all.”

Somehow she managed to turn her head around and look at me while keeping her fingers wrapped around the shaft and the cockhead inside her mouth. She pulled it out with a quick movement that produced this neat, little, “pop.”

“You really are sweet, Malcolm. Now don’t get embarrassed. It’s just so cool that you’d think of something like that. But you see, and I hope this doesn’t gross you out, while we were laying together I just got this sudden urge to find out what we tasted like.”

She paused to lick her way up the entire length of the shaft, then she gave the cockhead a noisy kiss. “And you know what, I doesn’t taste that bad. I mean, it won’t ever take the place of chocolate chip cookies, but it’s really kind of a turn-on.”

After another pause during which she replaced the cockhead inside her mouth and slid several inches of the shaft past her lips, she pulled it all out again. “Besides, if I can get--what do you call him--that’s right, old Roscoe, well if I can get him back into action real soon, maybe we’ll be able to squeeze in an extra session before going to work.”

“I love a lady who’s goal-oriented,” I said and propped my head on a pillow and watched her return to action. With that sort of encouragement, it wasn’t long before old Roscoe started coming to attention.

Apparently, she felt the same thing because I heard this sexy little moan and noticed her fine ass start wiggling. Moments later, she was on her knees, leaning over and sucking even harder. It was such a rush to watch that blonde head bobbing up and down while more and more of my long, black Johnson disappeared inside her mouth.

By now we were both getting into the scene. Like I said, oral sex isn’t really my thing. But Donna’s super blowjob gave me a new appreciation for the oral arts. Just as I’d about hit 100% on the peter meter, she nearly blew my mind by giggling.

After pulling old Roscoe out of her mouth, she gave me a slightly embarrassed, apologetic grin. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but it just struck me that chocolate has always been my favorite flavor.”

She slowly licked the dark brown shaft while gazing into my eyes. “I hope you’re not offended. I wouldn’t want to do anything that would upset our inter-personal, inter-racial relations.”

“Absolutely no offense taken,” I said with complete honesty.

“Oh, good. Now let’s see, where was I?” She ran her tongue up the length of my straining shaft, then around the flared head. After giving me a quick wink, she slipped it between her sweet lips and then filled her mouth with my chocolate delight.

This had to be the finest blowjob in the history of sex. But as great as her mouth felt, I wanted to shoot my wad into her snug little snatch. It took a little coaxing before she gave up feeding on old Roscoe and let me put him to work at his natural occupation, fucking.

And that’s what it was; a no-holds-barred, straight man-on-woman fuck that, I’m proud to say, lasted for ages and left both of us sweaty, tired, and for the moment at least, totally sated. The only downer was it lasted so long we didn’t have time for thirds. Neither of us minded, though. There’d be time for more love when the shift ended. Later, as I watched her getting dressed, I wondered if there might even be a little time during work.

It was a typical, slow Saturday on the unit. Shortly after the patients had gotten their last meds and been bedded down for the night, the relief aide left to cover on another ward. That meant the two of us would be alone the rest of the evening.

The aide had barely left before I began coaxing her to join me inside the supply room at the back of the nurse’s station. Although she acted reluctant, Donna finally agreed. After all, we both knew almost no one ever came around that late on weekends, which meant we were probably safe. So she put on an indulgent little smile, like this was just for me, and let me pull her into the room.

I don’t know what she’d been expecting, but I wanted a lot more than just a quick make-out session. Once we were inside the supply room, I got her to sit down on an armless, straight-back chair with her back turned to the open door to the nurse's station. Next I unzipped my fly, fished out old Roscoe, and aimed his big, swollen cockhead directly toward her lips.

With a big, shit-eating grin on my face, I looked down at her. "Lady, the only thing I've been able to think about this entire shift is how great it felt when you were going down on me this morning. That's why, as you may have noticed, My Johnson is now suffering from extreme stiffness and swelling, a most uncomfortable condition.

"So since you're the cause of this problem," I said, half teasing, half coaxing, "won't you please give me another serving of your righteous lip-loving and relieve my strain?"

I knew at once she had a problem with my idea and wondered if I’d overplayed my hand. After all, she was in charge and there was always a slim-to-none chance someone might catch us. But something told me she wanted this almost as much as I did.

For just a second, she glanced down at old Roscoe. Then she looked back up into my eyes, and I could tell she was about to say, no. That’s when I gave her my super-soulful look. I’d used the same one when I hit on her, and damn if it didn’t work again. “Okay,” she said, “but keep an eye out in case someone comes."

"Don't worry, Lady, I'm the only one who's gonna be coming around here," I said, while nearly doing just that at the thought of what was about to happen.

She shook her head in mock despair, then wrapped her fingers around the thick, straining shaft. After a few, tentative pumps along it’s length, she leaned forward until the flared cockhead was nestled inside her mouth, then began giving me a distracted blowjob. I mean, you could actually feel her nervousness and read how reluctant she was in her body language.

I thought about telling her to forget about it, but wasn’t sure how she’d react. Besides, I was learning that even Donna’s bad blowjobs are great. As her tongue began to swirl around my cockhead, I sighed and my entire body shivered with pleasure. While she was nibbling along the shaft, I caught her taking a quick peek up at me. Fortunately, I had my eyes open and really was watching for any flashing call-lights, unexpected visitors, or wandering patients.

After that she seemed to relax a little and started getting into some serious snacking. And I gotta admit, it felt so good I was tempted to let her finish what she’d started. I had a hunch coming in her mouth would be a total blast. But that’s not what I wanted most. Once I’d extracted my Johnson from her mouth, I pulled Donna out of the chair. After turning both it and her around, I began talking some line of shit while trying to get her to lean over the chair-back.

When she realized what I had in mind, she started protesting and tried to turn back around. But I was almost certain that blowjob had kick-started her wild side and that if I kept insisting, she’d agree. Finally she did, although it took a lot more shoving and sweet-talking than I’d expected.

Once she was leaning over the back of the chair, I quickly pulled up the short skirt of her white nurse's uniform. When I yanked down her panty hose, that round perfect ass of hers came into view. All I could say was, "Oh, lady, that's just the way I like it.”

Moments later, I’d ripped off her shoes and tossed them aside along with her panty hose. After spreading her legs out to the max, I moved in behind, grabbed onto the cheeks of her ass, and pulled them apart. All this time, Donna never moved or said a thing, although I may have heard her gasp when I took possession of her ass.

The moment I had the tip of my dick in position, I let out a low, guttural growl, lunged forward, and scored a direct hit deep into her sweet pussy. As the entire length of old Roscoe burrowed into the innermost reaches of her body, I most definitely heard her gasp.

I pumped in and out using fast, hard, very deep strokes. With her in that position, it was up to me to do all the work. Soon, the only thing on my mind was the exquisite feel of my Johnson sinking up to the hilt each time I plunged it back down into her slick snatch. Okay, it did cross my mind that the damn chair might tip over. But I’d forgotten all about getting caught.

That’s why it’s probably just as well I came so quickly. Not that I could have done anything about it. Donna’s blowjob had gotten me started. Now the sight of her leaning over that chair, helpless and exposed while my big black Johnson pumped in and out of her cute white body, and the feel of her pussy clutching at my hammer and her body jiggling each time I pounded into her-well, between all that, it’s amazing I lasted more than ten seconds.

When I came, it seemed to last forever, rolling over me like the slow thunder you hear before a summer storm. My aching nuts kept pumping out load after load of cum. We were both shivering and shaking so hard I wasn’t sure if I could stay in the saddle. Hell, I wasn’t sure I could stay on my feet.

When it finally ended, I sighed and slumped back, letting my weary Johnson slid halfway out. Donna was motionless, apparently stunned as much as me. And while I knew she needed help to stand up, right then I couldn’t move--much less help her.

In the midst of our hazy, after-loving lethargy, the phone in the nurse’s station began to ring. Talk about breaking a mood; that really got us moving. After a frantic struggle, we disentangled and I helped her up. While still yanking down her skirt, she stumbled bare footed out of the supply room heading for the phone. It was, of course, way over on the far side of the nurse's station.

When she answered, the expression on her face told me it wasn’t an official call. Then I heard her say, “Clay.” It was her old man and judging from the look on her face, it was a serious call. It wasn’t a mad look however; so I figured he must have been apologizing which, in my opinion, the dumb-ass redneck should have done weeks ago, no matter what the fight was about.

I’d just pulled up my pants and had started stuffing old Roscoe away when she looked over at me. I smiled and wondered how the timing of his call would affect what we had going. If her husband did apologize, would Donna still want to “work late” on another man's cock in a motel room on the other side of town?

I picked up her shoes and panty hose, then joined her in the nurses station. This had to be just about the absolute perfect set-up for a guilt-trip. After all, when her husband had called, Donna’s well-fucked pussy was still half-filled with old Roscoe.

That’s when I noticed what had to be a mixture of my semen and her pussy juice slowly oozing down one of her bare, trembling legs. With my luck, her guilt-trip would end with a tearfully confession of everything, followed by her outraged, honky husband coming after the guy, in this case the nigger, who’d defiled his little white wife. Not only was I probably going to lose the best piece of ass I’d ever known, I might lose my damn life.

Donna shifted and the ooze slid farther down her leg. I grabbed a couple of tissues, knelt at her feet, and while she kept talking to Clay, did a very professional job of wiping most of it away.

And no, it wasn’t gross. I’m an orderly, messes like that don’t bother me. Besides, most of it had come from me. But there would be more where that came from and I didn’t want to risk doing anything about that myself with her on the phone. So I tossed the tissues away, went over to the sink and wet down a handful of paper towels, then went back over to Donna.

She mouthed “Thank you,” and took the towels, but just held them while she finished her conversation. “And I love you too, Clay. But there’s a lot of things we need to talk about, and I can’t do it here on the phone.”

There was another pause, then my spirits did a 180 when she said, “I know it’s a drag, and I’m sorry about having to work late, but sometimes things are what they’re meant to be. So go on to bed. When I get home, I’ll need to shower and take a nap. But then we’ll go out to eat and start sorting things out. Okay? Great. And I love you, too. Goodnight, honey. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She hung up and looked at me with a half-smile that changed into a grin when she noticed the wet paper towels in her hand. “Malcolm, you’re a gentleman and an orderly. Now, why don’t you put on a pot of coffee while I go get cleaned up. After all, we’ve got a long night ahead of us.”

She started to leave, then stopped and looked at me. “You do still want to go back to the motel, don’t you?”

“Not only yes, but hell yes.”

My crack brought a pleased smile to her face. “I had a hunch that’s what you’d say and I’m glad because, the truth is, I do too. But after that call, I can’t plan beyond this night. What Clay just said reminded me how much I really do love him, even when he’s been such a jerk. And that means my life, maybe yours, but definitely our relationship, has just gotten very, very complicated.”

As she padded away barefoot and tousle-haired toward the staff bathroom, I watched her hips swaying rhythmically. Foxy little lady, you have no idea how complicated things really have gotten.

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This is the orderly's take on what happened in, Dis-Orderly Nurse. If you get a chance, please let me know what you think about either one or both of them. rf