1 comments/ 29809 views/ 3 favorites Visiting Nurse By: papadog She looked like a nurse ... sorta. Her dress was white, as were her stockings and shoes. But they weren't typical nurse's shoes; they were bone white sling pumps with four-inch heels. She was tall and slim. They were nearly eye to eye when she stepped up and through his doorway. A smile had flashed across her face as she stood with her purse in one hand and a metal attache case in the other. There was some sort of tubular metal object strapped to it. She bent at the knees in an almost curtsey movement and sat the metal case down. Extending her hand she said, "I'm Amanda LaWinter." Still standing in the living room she recited her experience and special training that lead her to the specific kind of work she was currently doing. She asked that he show her to the bedroom and said she would explain the procedure as they went along. Less than a minute later they were both in the bedroom and she was setting up her stuff. The tubular metal thing turned out to be a collapsible stand that extended to six feet or so and had a three-legged base. As she set the stand in place at the edge of the bed she glanced up and found him staring at her. She knew why. Her matching white lace bra and string bikini panties were apparent under the translucent white dress. The lacy elastic tops of her thigh high stockings were only a little less so. "I'd like you on the bed on your tummy with your head at the foot of the bed for your enema," she said, maintaining eye contact with him. He was sure he could see tiny white starbursts in the ice blue irises of her eyes. He wanted to stand and watch her work but did as she directed. He propped himself up on his elbows so he could look in the mirror of the dresser opposite the foot of the bed. The angle was wrong and he could only see a reflection of himself dressed in a thin cotton robe as she had instructed when she called to set the appointment. "Just lie down and relax," she said as he felt her touch his shoulder. "It'll be a couple minutes yet. I'll tell you when I'm ready to begin." He felt vulnerable and overpowered but again did as she said. He lay with his left cheek on the sheet and had a view of the bedroom door as she left the room. A minute or so later she entered the room carrying a bulging red rubber enema bag, the coiled hose with a white plastic tip. "Turn your head the other way and bend your left knee," she directed. He complied, facing away from her, still prone on the bed. He felt the robe being pulled off his thighs and butt. After a short pause something began to tease his anus. It continued for half a minute and he found himself enjoying the sensation and wanting more. It was as if she heard his thought as she slowly pushed the tip into him. Several seconds later a sharp click punctuated the silence. "Can you feel the flow?" she asked. He nodded his head slowly several times, afraid to move or make a sound. A large white presence filled his vision and his head moved slightly because the bed moved. It took him a few seconds to grasp the fact that she was sitting on the bed just to the left of his head, her right hip and thigh so close that he could not focus on the white cloth of her dress. His gut was beginning to feel full. The pressure seemed relentless, filling him, pushing into him until he felt bloated and tight. Still it didn't stop. "Uuuuuh," he moaned as the liquid pushed its way into new places inside of him. "Try to relax. You still have a ways to go," she said as she placed her hand on the back of his neck. His arms and legs began to move involuntarily, small strokes at first as if he were trying to swim away from the increasing pain. He didn't remember her moving off the bed and kneeling in front of him. Her hands were on both sides of his head, only his chin touching the sheet. He inched himself toward her until his chin slipped off the edge of the bed. He tried to ignore the pain in his lower body and raised himself up on his elbows. Again he saw the entire universe in her eyes. Each bright blue iris was a galaxy. There were a hundred thousand more, he knew. But right now these would do. The pain overtook him and he moaned at her. Her eyes clicked up and to the left and then came back to him. "Only a little bit more," she breathed. He took it all and waited. Finally she pulled the tip out of him. "Roll over onto your back," she directed. He moved carefully and didn't much care if the robe gaped open or not. It didn't make any difference because she promptly pulled at the half bowknot of the belt and then fully opened the robe. In her other hand was a large tube of lubricating jelly. She squeezed a three-inch ribbon of the clear gel onto his abdomen and a like amount just above the base of his penis. Then she began to massage his abdomen slowly and gently. She saw and felt him squirm under her hand as she increased the pressure on his distended belly. He moaned in pain and protest, his eyes narrowed to slits. Her hand moved lower and spread the second gob of lubricant around the base of his penis as well as coating the limp member itself. Her hand went back to his abdomen and she applied increasing pressure until he moaned again. "Okay, go empty out," she said with a smile. He moved to the toilet and expelled the two quarts of water she had given him. "Wait a couple more minutes to make sure it's all out and then come back in here." she had said to him, as she stood framed in the doorway. Her arms were extended from her sides, her hands resting on the doorframe above her head. It had the effect of raising the hem of her dress a couple of inches. Her feet were in the classic model's pose with her weight on her back leg. "You like this next part much more," she added with a smile. She had arranged two pillows against the headboard of the bed and directed him to sit with his back against them. From the dresser top beside her open case she obtained a device with a clear plastic cylinder eight inches long and two inches in diameter. One end was open and fitted with a gray rubber gasket. Some sort of mechanism that looked like a fancy nutcracker was attached to the other end by a flexible vinyl tube. She eased onto the bed by his right thigh, her feet on the floor. "Have you ever been vacuum erected before?" she asked. "No, but think I'm about to be," he replied, "Once you're erect this white constriction ring slides off the barrel onto the base of your penis. You hold the tube snuggly against yourself with your penis inside and I'll pump, okay," she said. As he took the rigid plastic cylinder from her he noticed that the gray rubber gasket and the inside of the barrel were well lubricated. As soon as he put it in place she gave three quick strokes to the chrome-plated vacuum pump that resembled a nutcracker with an extra appendage that had to be the piston housing. It grabbed him. She gave four more squeezes to the pump and the pressure seemed to increase. His penis began to grow. It steadily advanced up into the tube while increasing in diameter. "This is the part I like. I love to watch it get big and hard," she breathed, forcing herself to make eye contact with him momentarily. Then her gaze went back to his burgeoning pleasure rod inside the cylinder. She stroked the vacuum pump twice more and waited for the purple-green veins to show in relief against the shaft. When they did she put down the pump and used both thumbs and forefingers to force the white constriction band off the end of the tube and onto the base of his rigid cock. The suction having been broken, the clear cylinder fell away to reveal his glistening erection. Amanda LaWinter glanced at her watch, handed him a bottle of baby oil and said, "Maintain your erection manually for 15 minutes, then we'll go to the next step." "You want ... me to masturbate?" he asked. "Exactly. Keep it just like that but don't ejaculate. Just enjoy yourself for a while," she replied. He did as she said, uttering occasional moans and groans and had to stop several times to let the urgency, the nearness of orgasm to subside. Several times she leaned over and gently squeezed the shaft of his penis and then rolled her wrist to estimate its rigidity. "Okay. Time to check your ejaculatory function," she announced. She already had eye contact with him as she stood beside the bed. "Do you want to jack off into a bottle," she asked as a huge smile spread across her face, "or would you like to put on a condom and have me ride you over the edge into orgasm?" "You doooo that? he asked. "Yes, just hold back as long as you can, maybe I'll come too," she smiled. Sitting on the bed she quickly patted most of the oil from his stiff rod with a tissue and deftly rolled a condom onto it. After pulling the hem of her dress up around her hips, she pushed her lacy white panties off her hips and down her legs and stepped out of them. Then she knee-walked toward him on the bed until she was poised splay-legged over his hips. Slowly she settled onto him until she had all of him in her. "Eeeeewh," she groaned. He grinned and lay completely still. He was back in command. His entire consciousness was focused on his itchy-achy throbbing prick surrounded by her hot, quivering sheath. He waited for her to break first. She did. "Whaaaa!," she moaned as she began to fuck him. Then it was, "Ahhhhha!" as she increased the pace. Time was lost to both of them. He glimpsed the fancy filigree at the elastic tops of her stockings where her thighs were working rhythmically so her crotch rose could swallow him whole again and again. He breathed deep and relaxed away from the inevitable spitting of semen that now was very close. He heard her cry, "Oh, goood," as his spasms began. After dual moments of stillness, the pretty woman in the white dress fell forward onto the chest of the man who was in her. They stayed that way for several minutes, returning slowly to reality from their visit to ecstasy. Fifteen minutes later she was packed up, had put her panties back on and enjoyed being escorted to his front door. "You'll be pleased to know you rate quite well," she said evenly. "Thanks. What was the purpose of the enema?" he asked. "It's not part of the sexual function assessment. I just enjoy watching men squirm in pain from the things I can do to them when I'm in control. It's a power trip. It excites me," she said, her eyes aglow. 'I'm still tripped," she added, her voice rising from the revisitation of the last hour with him. His front door closed behind her and Amanda LaWinter stood alone. She took a couple of steps, turned and settled into the semi-rickety deck chair where the mailman left bulky stuff he couldn't get through the mail slot. Fishing in her purse she found the box of Marlboro Lights and a throw away lighter. She lit one and inhaled deeply. She liked to smoke after sex. There was no cum to ooze out of her and make her panties wet. The condom had caught that. Looking down the street, she found everything normal and ordinary. After a last drag she tossed the burning butt over the planter and into the grass beyond. Purse strap over her shoulder, silver metallic attache case in her other hand she went to the door, clicked open the thumb latch and went inside for the second time that day. He was in his recliner, out flat with his hands behind his head, wearing just a robe. Their eyes met and he smiled at her. 'You stayed in character very well," he said. "As did you," she said to him "Will Nurse LaWinter visit again in two weeks?" he asked her. "If you wish," she replied "Yes, I do," he smiled as a wave of after pleasure rolled through his body. Visiting Nurse The following story is fiction. Any resemblance of any person to any of the characters portrayed in this piece is merely coincidence. This story happened only in the mind of the author. A special thanks to my editor who fixes my errors. As I walked into the office building today, it was as if I was entering it for the first time. Even though I had worked here since graduating college, today was different. Today I was coming as the new Vice-President of Marketing for the entire Midwest United States for one of the premier marketing firms in the U.S.; Foyt, Stewart, & Jones Inc. I rode the elevator to the 12th floor and as I stepped off the elevator, I was greeted with the booming voice of Robert Foyt, the big burley CEO. "Mr. Rutherford. Good to see you so early this morning." We shook hands and Mr. Foyt escorted me to my new office. I couldn't help but trace my fingers across the nameplate on the door, Mr. Brighton Rutherford-VP Midwest Marketing. "Mr. Foyt, if you don't mind, I need to get a number of boxes of files and other personal items from my old office on the 2nd floor." "Brighton, call me Robert," my boss said warmly, "it's only proper that we begin being on a first name basis, now that you're one of my right hand people in keeping this company as the best marketing firm in the country." "Yes, Robert," the words felt awkward on my tongue because he'd been "Mr. Foyt" for so long. "If everything's packed up, let me get the shipping crew to bring everything upstairs. Executives like yourself don't have to do a lot of manual labor anymore...unless you'd rather do it yourself." "Well, there's a couple calls I have to make this morning; we're trying to close that deal with Pillsbury and they need me to approve the latest negotiations." I said, relieved that someone else would be hauling up all those file cabinets and boxes. Sharon Brandt stepped up and said, "Mr. Rutherford, until you decide on a secretary, I've been assigned to work for you. Is there anything I can do for you?" She took me by the arm and gently started leading into my office. "Robert will talk to you for hours if you let him. I will keep him at bay so you can get settled." Sharon was probably 25 years older than myself, and had a mother-hen sort of reputation. I was going to keep her because sometimes I needed that help "Sharon," I told her, "when it's just the two of us, please call me Brighton. When clients are around, then Mr. Rutherford, but otherwise, I'm Brighton." I smiled at her and she tussled my hair like I was a little kid and just laughed. The morning went quickly. Sharon had already learned that I was an avid coffee drinker. I like my coffee hot, with cream and sugar. She even asked if I'd like a coffee maker in my office so I could get some without leaving the office. About two o'clock, I was nearly organized in my office, and we'd finalized the deal with Pillsbury. I was sipping my coffee when the intercom buzzed. "Mr. Rutherford, there's a Patricia Hazelton to see you. She's from the Mutual Fidelity Insurance. She's here about the company life insurance policy." Crap, just what I need, some pushy salesperson trying to sell me insurance I don't need. I thought to myself. I took a long swallow of coffee and said to Sharon, "Send her in." The fact that I was surprised by the young woman who walked through the door was obvious to anyone who could have seen my face. For into my office strode this gorgeous redhead, with a bright and vivacious smile. She was dressed in hospital green scrubs and a windbreaker that said, "Visiting Nurses Association." "Come on in and have a seat," I said, motioning to the leather chair in front of my desk. She came in and placed what almost looked like a tackle box on the floor, looked around the office and offered her hand. "I'm Patricia Hazelton. I am from the Visiting Nurses Association. I've been asked by your employer's insurance company to get a quick update on your medical condition for your policies. If you'd like, I can show you my credentials and the orders." She spoke in a quiet, yet authoritarian tone of voice. She seemed to be someone you would not want to mess with. "Well, if you aren't from the group you say you are with, you sure have a lot of guts walking in here like this. So, tell me, what do you need from me?" I said in a more compliant tone of voice. She proceeded to walk over to the curtains that covered the windows that faced into the rest of the building and began closing them. "Please tell your secretary that you will not be disturbed by anyone until I am finished. Understood?" An almost helpless feeling sped through my body. "Yes, ma'am," I squeaked out. "Just what is going on here?" "Foyt, Stewart, & Jones purchases life insurance polices for each of its upper level management people. For the insurance to take effect, a physical examination is necessary. However, since you people seem reluctant to go to the doctor, Mutual hires us to come and give the screening physical to you, here in your office on your time. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" Her hands were on her hips, her face stern, yet somehow gentle. "Uhm...No," I shook my head and sat down in my chair, curious as to what was about to happen. "I need you to slip out of your clothing. Leave your under shorts on, but take off everything else." The petite young nurse was unpacking many different things from her container. Many of them I wasn't sure what they were. It had been at least 10 years since I went to the doctor. Patricia saw that I was undressed and ordered me to come to the center of the room, where she had set up a scale. "Step up and stand still," came the order. I stepped up on the scale. "183 pounds. That weight would be perfect if you were about 4 inches taller." The only sound you could hear was my ego deflating. "Sit here on this chair," she instructed, pointing to an armless chair by the conference table. She proceeded to take a plastic cover and place it over the thermometer and instructed me to put it in my mouth. While that was registering, she checked my pulse, respiration and blood pressure. Finally, the thermometer beeped. "Hmm...were you drinking coffee just before I came in?" she asked. "Yeah," I responded a little off handedly, "Would you like a cup?" "You don't get it! I can't get an accurate temperature reading when you guys insist on drinking coffee right before." "Well, no one told me you were coming. If you had made an appointment, this wouldn't have happened." She shook her head, "If I made appointments, you would play games with the system. I have to be able to do this announced." She pulled out a large blue plastic covered pad. It looked like something you'd slip under a baby for changing. "Ok, Mr Coffeemate, drop your shorts and bend over the table. I will take it rectally." "What, no way! Forget it. I refuse." I said, standing with my arms crossed. "Fine, have it your way. But, your refusal means you won't pass the screening and that's cause for termination. Either bend over, or kiss your nice little job bye–bye!" She was acting so smug now. "Alright, you win," I dejectedly bent over the table as I heard the snap of a glove and the squirt of some lube on her finger. Unceremoniously, she spread my cheeks and I felt a cold finger force it's way inside my ass. "Hey, be careful, I'm not used to having things go in through there. It's an exit only." All I got for my objection was a smack on the ass. I need to turn this bitch in for the way she's treating me, I was thinking. Almost as quick as it went in, she pulled it out. "Well, there's no fever." She handed me a couple tissue and told me to sit back on the chair. I attempted to clean the goo from my backside, pulled my briefs back up and took a seat. She listened to my heart and lungs. She commented that it was a good thing I wasn't a smoker, as she knew the offices up here were all smoke free. Next thing I know, she's walked over to her container and pulls out a large wide mouth bottle. "Mr. Rutherford, I am required to collect a urine sample. Since we don't have a toilet in your office, you will use this bottle." She handed it to me with a smug almost sadistic grin on her face. "We are doing drug testing, so I must observe you giving the sample." "You expect me to piss in this bottle in front of you? What are you nuts? No. Get out of here." "Mr. Rutherford, may I remind you that the contract you signed states that failure to pass the health screening and drug testing is grounds for dismissal." She stood there with a grin like a cat just having caught the canary. I took the bottle, turned around and lowered my shorts. Before I could start peeing, the nurse from hell said, "Turn around, I have to watch you pee in the bottle." How humiliating. After trying hard to relax, I could finally allow myself to piss into the bottle. She took it and sealed it, and placed a label on it. She quickly changed gloves. "Since your shorts are lowered, there are only two things left for me to check." I could swear this woman was enjoying the humiliation she was heaping upon me. "I need to check for hernias and also a quick prostate exam." Knowing I could not prevent her from completing her tasks, I simply stepped out of the briefs and tossed them on my desk. "Stand here and face me." She said. Slowly she reached out and gently checked for hernia. "Cough for me. Again." Her fingers were gentle, unlike her prior attitude. "Now, Mr. Rutherford, please bend over the table, spread your legs and try to relax. The more you tense up, the more it will hurt." I leaned over the table, and heard the unmistakable sound of lubricant being squirted onto fingers. "Relax now." I felt her rub the cool gel on my ass, and then a finger slip inside me. "See this isn't too bad, is it?" I was getting very confused, she had two fingers in my ass, they were uncomfortable, but yet, strangely it was feeling really good. My cock was responding by rising to the occasion. Almost in an instant, I was fully erect. "That's a good boy Mr. Rutherford. You're being such a good little boy for me. Feel this?" she gently rubbed my prostate. I couldn't help but let out a moan. "Oh wow. That feels kinda good." The nurse quietly asked me, "Is this the first time you've ever had a prostate exam?" "Uh huh, in fact, the first time anyone's ever touched me there. It makes me feel funny." "Mr. Rutherford, are you married? Are you sexually active?" she asked. "Nope, I've been too busy getting my career to where it is to have time for a wife." "How often do you masturbate?" Her question didn't surprise me, based on the conversation. "Lately, not too often. Working for this promotion has had me thinking of nothing but work." "Well, if you promise not to tell anyone about what happens next, I can show you how good prostate play can feel with masturbation." She lubed up her other hand and removed her fingers from my ass. "Lie back on the conference table, knees bent." I followed her instructions, realizing how aroused her touching my backside had made me. When I was lying how she wanted me, she took her index and middle finger and inserted them back into my ass. Her free hand she used to start stroking my cock. It wasn't long before precum was oozing from the head of my cock. The sensations were getting much stronger; I was feeling things that I hadn't felt for quite some time. As her fingers pushed deeper and deeper into my ass, she gently massaged my prostate, until I couldn't stand it any more. Trying to remain as quiet as I could, I felt my cock spasm and my cum erupted from my cock, shooting up and landing on my belly, on the table next to me, even some on Patricia's face. I couldn't believe how strong the climax was. I lay there on the table, totally spent. Patricia cleaned up most of my mess off my belly and peeled her gloves off her hands. Tossing them in the trash, she packed up her equipment and suggested that I pull myself together and get dressed. I did so, in a daze, hardly believing what happened to me. As I turned my back to finish tucking my shirt in and putting on my suit coat, I heard the door open and quickly close. I rushed to the door, but she had disappeared. I returned to my desk and discovered a note: Mr. Rutherford, you need a follow-up check up. Give me a call; we can do it at my place or yours. 411-555-6783.