"Volunteer Johnson, you are with me," Doctor Morgan's cocky voice assaults my ears.
Oh great, of all the doctors in this unit, I'm stuck with the bitchiest doctor in the friggin' hospital. I nod and follow her down the hallway, away from the vending machines. I curse my luck that I'm assigned to a doctor before I get my chocolate fix.
"Alright, you'll be working rooms 123 and 124. There will be patients in there, tend only what you see on the clipboard in the room, they will all be stable, so don't worry about any of them dying. We get quite a few military men in this wing, but most of them have minor injuries anyway. If you need anything, there's a button on the side of the door to signal a doctor. If I don't get to you before someone else does, just tell them that you're the brat assigned to me. Your shift ends at twenty-one hundred. That's nine o'clock , in case your limited capacity makes military time too difficult to compute," She's speed talking, but I am able to keep up and understand that I've just been insulted. I suppress my urge to beat her over the head with the clipboard that she is now handing me. I give her a tight nod and begin my shift.
Over the next couple hours, I am able to tend to a few patients, mostly men over the age of seventy. One man takes a look at my ass and immediately proposes. I decline gracefully, of course, finish up with the ice pack on his knee, and slip off into the bathroom.
I am the only one in the bathroom, thank goodness, I check myself in the mirror. My raven black hair is pulled into a ponytail, I am pleased that it is not frizzy. My large brown eyes stare back at me, exhausted from my first full day of internship, and my light green volunteer coat is rumpled and feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. My ass looks pretty good in this skirt, but due to the proposal I've received, maybe wearing a skirt that show off my ass less is a good idea. My breasts fit nicely in my 40C bra, but are hidden by my stupid coat. I check my watch. I have less than an hour left, and one last patient. I smooth out my coat, and manage to paste a smile onto my tired face. I leave the bathroom and walk down the hallway, nodding to patients.
I slip into room 124, and find myself drooling. A man in uniform sits on the bed, looking slightly uncomfortable. his olive toned skin and dark chocolate brown eyes make me drool a little. I estimate that he's no older than twenty-five. I find myself staring at his shoulders, and clear my throat. I grab the clipboard on the side of the bed, next to his leg. His name is James, he's twenty-two, and he has minor muscular problems in his back and shoulders, and a few cuts around his hip.
I put the clipboard back and introduce myself, "I'm Naomi Johnson, I'm a volunteer. Seems you've got some cuts and muscle trouble."
He smiles, and I notice that his eyes crinkle up, that it makes him look like a carefree teenager. "I'm James, but you probably knew that already."
"I did, would you take off your top, James?" I smile too.
He takes off his shirt, and my brain shuts off. His skin is smooth and tan, except for a few scars near his shoulder, and the cuts on his hip are long, but not too deep. His body is fit, muscular, and he has that sexy "v" on his pelvis...
"Miss?" his voice brings me out of my very dirty thoughts. I'm turned on, I hope it's not obvious.
"Sorry, I was...oh, call me Naomi," I say, moving behind him to look at his back and shoulders. They are very clearly tense and knotted. I begin massaging his strong shoulders, and he moves his head to give me better access. "Why are you so tense?"
"I've gotten into a couple fights since I got back a day ago. Went to a bar and some asshole started picking a fight with me about my being in uniform. Push came to shove so we started fighting."
I work my way to his shoulder blades, "Is that how you got the cuts, too?"
He grunts when I work a knot loose, "Yeah, guy pulled a knife."
"Oh shit!" I wonder if the guy was arrested. "That's ridiculous! Not to mention stupid, starting a knife fight with a uniformed soldier. Honestly, people come home to be with loved ones and they end up..." I trail off. Losing my cool in front of a patient is not professional. I stop long enough to take off my stupid jacket and resume working the middle of his back. "Sorry about that, James."
"Why?" he asks.
I finish undoing the knots in his lower back, and start working on his hand, the one he'd been trying to stretch out while I'd been working on his back. His hands are warm, and the calluses on his hands add to his appeal. My mind wanders to the things he can do to me with them, before answering him. "Ranting in front of a patient is never good. Can you take off your pants enough for me to check out your hip?"
He nods and slides his pants down, and I notice what I knew I would notice from the first time I saw him. He's wearing green boxers, but they are strained from his erection. Now, if it's from me or it's simply a random anomaly, I do not know. I leaned over him, brushing my breasts against him quite by accident, cleaning out the wounds. "Are you here to visit a wife or anyone in particular?"
"No, I just came home to see my dad," he answers. "There's no one else."
"I see," I brush his crotch again as I attempt to straighten. His hand grabs my chin, preventing me from standing. His grip is firm, but not painful. His lips meet mine lightly, and somehow he resituates us so that I am sitting on the bed and his body is between my legs. I can feel the warmth of him through my thin panties. My breath comes out in gasps.
“Do you want to do this?” his voice is rough.
I think about how unprofessional this is, but then I realize how long it’s been. I answer with a kiss, gently biting his lower lip. He reaches behind me and undoes my ponytail, and runs his fingers through my hair, tousling it slightly. He peals off my soaking panties and drops them to the white tile floor, kicking off his pants that had fallen to his ankles. He begins massaging my clean shaven slit before pushing my lips aside and rubbing my throbbing clit vigorously. I bite into his shoulder to keep from moaning, making him grunt and rub harder.
His teeth graze my neck and I shiver in delight, but I need him desperately. “Fuck me,” I beg him. “I need you so bad right now, James!”
He lifts me as easily as I would lift a loaf of bread, and turns me so that I’m bending over the bed. He leans into me, I hear the wrapper of a condom, and within seconds I can feel his hot cock rubbing against my dripping lips, lubricating the tip. I let out a low moan and urge him to hurry up. His hands take hold of my hips, and he fills me in one quick thrust. My fingers dig into the bed, crumpling the paper on it. My body is on fire, I need more! I lean back into him as he begins thrusting into me.
I feel his chest against my back as he nibbles on my neck. “Rough, James, fuck me harder!” I cry as loud as I dare.
He wraps his hand into the raven black hair that is hanging down my shoulders and back and pulls hard until my back begs him to stop, but I groan in pleasure as he continues to fuck me mercilessly. “You like it babe?”
“Yes James! I’m so close!”
His pace increases, and I explode, squeezing my eyes shut as my hips rock frantically to my orgasm as I ride it out, my knees buckle under me. James reaches around my waist and pulls my body against his, supporting my weight on him as he moves me toward the back wall of the room. He presses me up against it, reaching around my waist and squeezing my clit lightly with a thumb and forefinger while he continues his skillful thrusting into my hot tight cunt.
He presses my wrists to the wall, whispering into my ear, “I’m about to cum!”
“Cum inside me, honey! I need you to cum inside me!” I beg feverishly, I’m about to explode again, and I know that once I do, I’ll collapse.
He grunts and his thrusts become nearly desperate, his hands leave my wrists and grasp my hips, I feel his fingers dig into my skin and gasp in pleasure. I feel him stiffen, and we explode together. I ride out waves of pleasure as he fills the condom, we’re both gasping for air. He pulls out and he tosses the condom in the trash as we clean up.
When we have our clothes on, I kiss him on the lips. “Thanks honey, hope you feel better.”
“Can I call you?” he asks, wiping his face with a paper towel.
“You know my name honey, look me up!” I wink and exit the room. My first day of volunteering has certainly ended a lot better than I’d thought.
I chuckle as I punch my timecard into the machine in the lobby, thinking: Who knows what will happen when later?
