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Carol - Part Three

Carol continues to tell me about her sexual past
We were deep into the early morning hours, and Carol had more she wanted to tell me about her past.

What she had told me so far was not necessarily something I wanted to hear. It was interesting, titillating, and the supportive pictures she had shown me had raised my temperature.

The rest of the story was interrupted by crying, some embarrassment on her part, and concern that I would end up not liking her.

That latter part would increasingly become the focus of her telling me her tale.

Though shaken by the disappearance of the older man that had brought her into this new world of pleasure and sex, Carol got through the rest of her graduate program and began her first job as a nurse.

Up to that point all the clinical work had been educational. Now it was for real.

A few months on the job, and she became more comfortable, and made new friends among the nurse and young doctors and medical students. Early on, she had been asked if she wanted to visit the closet, or a closet, or something like that. A nice young third year medical student had asked the question, and not understanding his question or even knowing what he meant, she simply indicated “no” and moved on.

On break, and at lunch in the cafeteria with two of her nurse friends, one made a reference to another nurse and that nurse’s visit to the closet. Carol interrupted her friend’s story to ask about the closet.

This hospital was a big place, a little city in fact. Thousands worked at the hospital, from the most senior medical staff to the most junior maintenance people. Inevitably, in that climate, there would be people who found each other attractive and in need of physical attention.

The closet was a euphemism for a place to go in the hospital where two people could be alone; where they would not be disturbed or seen.

“You know,” said the other nurse, “a place for a blow job or more.”

“You mean the guy wanted me to suck his cock?” Carol asked in disbelief.

“Well, he wasn’t looking to carry on a conversation with you,” was the sarcastic response. The comment elicited a good laugh from the three women.

One of the nurses was not all that attractive. The other was very attractive with a nice figure. Carol saved her questions for the one more likely to know more about the closet thing.

Carol endured some teasing from the others about her being asked to go to the closet by a medical student and her naiveté in not understanding his request. She did not know what the young student was suggesting, but held to her story that she really did not hear him clearly as he had asked her in a low whisper.

On the way back to her station, Carol hung back with the attractive nurse and asked if the closet story was really true.

“Honey,” the nurse responded in a slow southern drawl, “if you need to get laid, pick yourself out a good looking young doctor or medical student and mention the word closet. See how fast he comes running.”

More alert to the situation, Carol began to notice some of the nurses being overly friendly with students and doctors. Some were being so obvious in their remarks and body language that it was a wonder that they even took the time to find a room. On the night shift, in particular, Carol would notice a young doctor whisper something to a nurse, and then the doctor would disappear into a vacant room or linen closet, soon to be followed by the nurse.

Ten minutes later, the nurse would exit the room or closet with a glazed look and red lips, having obviously given a blow job to her medical friend.

She was mortified that she had embarrassed herself with the medical student. She was also concerned that he may have told others that she had shot him down and that staff and students might now avoid her. However, being very horny herself, and excited about the adventure and risk, she sought out the medical student.

It wasn’t that Carol feared that she would never be asked again about the closet, it was more that she wanted people to know that she wasn’t a prude. As long as she was seen as an attractive lady who had an interest in sex just like any other woman, she was okay with never being asked again. She had learned by now that she could get any guy she wanted into bed. But she was deluding herself.

Not the part about being able to get any guy she wanted. She knew the signals to send, the look to give, the subtle nuances and touches that would let a guy know that she was interested. It was the part about it being okay if she was never asked again about the closet.

Carol was masturbating a lot, sometimes three or four times a day. Even at work, she would steal a few minutes and masturbate in the stall in the ladies room. She could give herself huge orgasms with the right thoughts and fantasies about certain guys.

But she missed a man’s touch: the way a man could make her feel, the intimacy, and the way a man could make her cum. Being fucked in some little room by a stranger was a lot better than masturbation.

She found the young man with his friends in the cafeteria. She approached the group and asked the medical student if she could speak with him later, whenever he had the chance. She could hear the “ohs” directed toward the young man as she walked away from the table.

It did not take long. Maybe fifteen minutes later the young man found Carol on the floor where she was working.

“You may have misunderstood me the last time we spoke,” she said with the courage only horniness can give a person. “You’re voice was so low, I wasn’t sure what you were saying. I just wanted you to know that.” She gave the young man her best cum fuck me look and walked away.

That night, while headed to the ladies room, she heard the young man whisper her name and call her into a short hallway.

“Can we talk in that room over there?’ he asked.

“Sure,” she said, and the two walked over to a small room that contained extra beds.

The young man was nervous, and asked if she was okay with this.

“Okay with what?” she asked him, teasing and playing dumb.

“This,” he said, unzipping his pants and pulling out his erect cock.

Carol said nothing and reached out and took his cock in her hand. It wasn’t as big as others she had seen, but she liked the shape and how hard he was. Knowing that every word and every touch was going to be related to his friends later than night, and that his friends would tell the story to others, Carol almost overplayed her role.

She stroked his cock with her hand, as his pre-cum squirted out and coated the palm of her hand and the shaft. She took his hand and placed it on her breast, and moaned and tossed her head back when he squeezed it.

The young medical student shot his load all over her hand and arm, before Carol could even squat down and take his cock into her mouth.

“Oh shit,” he said. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold back.” He kept on apologizing and trying to clean her arm and hand. She kept on re-assuring him that it was alright.

She had every intention of dropping her pants and letting him lick her love hole. But, the young man couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He left her standing in the room still cleaning cum off her arm. She made a mental note of something she already knew quite well. The next time, make the guy do all the work first.

By the next day, she knew that word had spread about the new nurse. Students and doctors all smiled at her, and even some of the nurses seemed to know what had happened.

Carol visited the closet as often as she could, with a variety of guys, including some of the older doctors. She developed a reputation for being bold, into everything, and for satisfying her partner. There were hand jobs, blow jobs, bending over tables to be fucked, and even, on occasion, anal sex with a doctor smart enough to bring plenty of lubrication.

Visiting the closet was not her downfall, however. It would be the staff parties where she would both shine and flame out.

Private parties, whether at the home of nurses, medical student or certain of the medical staff, were known for their debauchery. And not much of an excuse was needed for a party. It could be a holiday party, a birthday, a celebration of some sort, or just a Friday or Wednesday. Guests drank everything from beer in bottles and kegs, to the hard stuff. One could do Jell-O shots, different kinds of sliders, drink from a punch bowl, or make your own. There were drinking games, truth or dare games, and spin the bottle games. And, there were pills. Some that made you happy, and lowered your inhibitions. Some that made you last longer. Some that increased the intensity of an orgasm.

These were invitation only parties. Not a problem for Carol. Once the word had spread about her behind the scene activities in whatever room was available, the invitations flowed. Typically, the invitation would only say “PARTY” and provide a date, time and address. On occasion, who was hosting the party, the nurses, medical students, or whoever, would also be on the invite.

Knowing who was throwing the party and where was important. Parties thrown by doctors were good, but somewhat reserved and often more like cocktail parties. The nurse’s parties were good and a lot more relaxed and free-wheeling; the medical student parties, however, were legendary. The common theme: drinking, fun and sex.

The drinking, games and out-and-out fun took place in public, typically in the living room, kitchen or other such room. The sex was behind the scenes in back rooms. The longer the party went, the more crowded those back rooms became.

Carol was an eager participant. She went to every party she was invited to. At first, she would dress up, with make-up and her hair done up. As time went on, she dressed down, shunning panties and her bra, skip only but the basic make-up, and let her hair, which she was growing longer, hang down around her body.

At her first party, she drank some of the punch and spent her time talking with friends and their friends. Late in the evening she was introduced to a medical student, and the two danced to a few tunes.

The medical student took her by the hand and led her through the back rooms. On the way, Carol saw people making out, one or two blow jobs being given, and eventually a couple on a bed fucking like crazy.

Carol and her new friend stopped to watch the couple. Carol had never seen two people fucking before, except maybe in porn flicks. She was mesmerized. The woman was on top riding the guy’s cock. The sounds, the noises the woman was making, the guy’s cock sliding in and out, and all of the dirty talk they were exchanging, fascinated her.

As they watched, the medical student put his arms around Carol and began to fondle her breasts. She could feel his cock against her ass. She wanted what the other woman was getting.

She willingly went into another room. There was no bed, but there were pillows all over the floor. It was at this time, at this party, that Carol learned the need to dress down.

Within what seemed like seconds, the medical student was standing in front of her, naked, his erection sticking out at Carol. She struggled with buttons, shoes, pantyhose, and her bra. When she was finally ready, he was all over her. She smiled to herself, letting herself be taken and enjoying the moment.

He fucked her good, mostly doggie and to her surprise, made her cum rather quickly. She sat between his legs and sucked him off, swallowing as much cum as he could give her. They kissed for a while on the floor and he sucked on her nipples, then they dressed and made their way, hand-in-hand back out into the party. The medical student thanked her, kissed her on the cheek and left to get a drink.

That’s it?” she thought. “I fuck the guy and he says thank you and walks away?

She was not alone for long. A second man, could have been a doctor, a medical student or even a male nurse, put his arm around her waist and ushered her over to a corner of the room. He was polite, told her that he had seen her in the cafeteria, and that he had always wanted to meet her.

For the second time that night, Carol was led into the back rooms. For the first time in her life, she screwed two different guys in the same night, and enjoyed it both times. She was hooked.

As the parties went on, Carol wore less and less. She was now the one standing naked in front of a guy while he wrestled with his clothes. And two guys in one night became the norm. Then Carol did three guys at the same time; then two guys and another woman; then three women and a guy; and, had multiple partners in one evening. She did hand jobs and blow jobs, blow jobs with other women, doggie by one guy and a blow job for the other guy. She even had multiple anal partners in one evening.

At her “peak”, Carol was having sex with four or five guys at a time, sometimes twice in one evening, and inviting two guys to enter her at the same time, one in her pussy and the other in her ass. She could not get enough sex, and would welcome each of the guy’s cumming all over her, at once or consecutively. And, she would continue to visit the closet when she was at work.

Her nursing work began to suffer. She made mistakes and sometimes forgot to record important patient information. She received warnings from her supervisors. She didn’t eat enough, preferring masturbation or fucking to food. And, she wasn’t taking care of herself. Still, guys liked her. She’d do anything and everything.

And then there was the problem of the new girls. More and more of the new, young, cute nurses were visiting the closet at work and the back rooms at the parties. Carol was being approached less and less.

At her last party, she reluctantly joined several women and men on the floor in one of the back rooms. The group was involved in a small orgy. Bodies were intertwined, there were blow jobs being given, men were eating pussy, someone would orgasm and make a loud noise of pleasure, and every once in a while I guy would shoot his spunk up into the air.

These were not the pretty people. For the most part, they were in this room, on the floor, in a tangled mass because they could not find partners. They were the unattractive, overweight, and older crowd.

Carol walked into the group, trying not to slip on the cum and pussy juice on the floor. She knelt down, saw an erection in front of her and held onto it as she lowered her body to the floor. She was consumed by the mass of bodies.

Someone was licking her pussy and clit. Someone was squeezing her breast and playing with her nipple. Someone else was playing with her asshole. It was not pretty, but it felt good.

She was fucked by an unknown numbers of guys: fingers and cocks were in her ass, she sucked cocks and ate pussy. She made guys cum and women orgasm. And she stayed in the group until she was satiated.

She eventually made her way out of the room and walked to a bathroom. On the way she passed a mirror. What she saw devastated her. She was skinny, with her ribs showing. Her boobs had shrunk and there were dark patches under hollow eyes. She was covered from head to foot, including her long hair, with cum, pussy juice, and who knows what else. She never reached the bathroom.

Carol threw on as much clothing as was necessary to make her at least look decent in public, put on her coat, left the party and drove home.

At home, she sat in her bath tub for hours. She scrubbed and scrubbed and could not get herself clean enough. And she cried all night.

The next day at work, she gave her two week notice. She broke her apartment lease, packed her belongings in her car or just left them in her apartment, and she drove home.

The good news was that she was not addicted to drugs or alcohol. The bad news was that she had let sex take over her life.

At home, she told her parents and sister and brother that she had a bad case of mononucleosis. She stayed in bed all day for several weeks, letting her mother feed and nourish her until she felt better about her looks. Then she found a counselor and entered counseling to help her with her sexual needs.

For two years, Carol worked for her mother’s cleaning company, handling the office, payroll, reports and assignments. And for two years she faithfully went to counseling, talking to her counselor or others about her problem.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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