Whiskey Girl

Chapter 2

     

          He still wore the same clothes, but they weren't dry. They hung onto his hard body like a second skin but he didn't seem to care one bit. The wound on his leg needed cleaning, actually his entire body did. Dirt covered his boots, arms and the large hands that hung off even larger arms and shoulders.

I pretended to do my chart notes while Carrie briefed him on his father. I hoped after that she would just take him to the exam room and clean him up herself but as a couple minutes went by she flagged me over.

I wanted to huff and puff and stomp my feet! I didn't even know this man and he brought me great anxiety. My new Nike sneakers squeaked awkwardly as I silently directed him to an exam room.

"Are you comfortable taking off your boots and jeans, you are going to need that cut cleaned and stitched up." I closed the door behind us, like I've done with every other patient but for some reason this felt different.

He sighed tiredly, and undressed while I got my materials. I was too busy giving myself prep talk to pay attention to him behind when he cursed under his breath. Spinning around none too quickly I felt my mouth go dry at the sight of his tree trunk thighs. He could crush me so easily. Was it fear I felt? Arousal? Both?

"Damn boxers are torn." He was right, whatever had caused his cut had also ruined the material of his boxers. His hand held onto the front of them and my cheeks burned with realization that he was holding onto the monster organ that threatened to hang out.

"I can make this as quick as possible so you can get dressed. It's good you came back so we can prevent any infection." I tried hard to speak confidently.

He put his big body onto the exam chair, his strong thighs spread wide while his hand still held his manhood in place.

Gloved up, I brought my stool over beside him and began cleaning his thigh. There was a lot of dirt and the more I cleaned up the longer his wound seemed to be. Thick coarse hair was trimmed around his inner thigh and I couldn't help the feeling that aroused between my thighs. There was no denying his masculinity, he reminded me of a bear-no a caveman.

I was supposed to be professional and I felt so ashamed at my body's reaction to this man.

"How old are you?" He grumbled, adjusting his hand over his manhood. Was he aroused too?

I looked up at him, pausing what I was doing. He was handsome, and not in a traditional way. In a masculine and very rugged way. He was not pretty, he had a thick neck, strong jaw and big eyebrows. Facial hair covered his upper lip and jaw. His chart said he was forty two years old. Much older than I.
"I just turned twenty one." I answered in a tiny voice.

"You're an RN that young?"

"Yes Sir." I could barely hear my own soft voice. "I graduated highschool early and went on to a college that offered nursing in the summer time as well."
 
He nodded but didn't say another word. I'm sure he was only asking because I was holding the medical supplies needed to fix him up and was worried about my credentials.

The air seemed to get thicker the closer I got to the hand covering his cock. I tried to angle away and keep my face an appropriate space away from him but it proved to be very difficult.

"Fuck." He groaned and to my complete surprise lifted his hips an inch before adjusting his hand again. "I should have just had Carrie do this."

My face was red before but it was crimson now. "Am I hurting you? Doing a bad job?" I wanted to cry, and it took all I had to keep the tears from falling.

"No. You're doing fine." He grunted, as his hand left his boxer shorts to run a frustrated hand over his mouth. My eyes widened as I got a glimpse of just how long and thick he was. I never saw a cock before other than old men during my clinicals in school. He was beautiful, nothing like I'd seen before and it brought on an itch like none other between my thighs.