"Thank you so much for doing this, Maya," my friend Lena said, pulling me into a tight hug on the doorstep of her dad's house. "Mom and Dad aren't exactly on speaking terms since the divorce, so calling her wasn't an option."

"Of course," I said with a shrug. "It's the holidays." And since my rotation kept me from going home to visit my family for Christmas, it wasn't like I had anything better to do. "I get that it's impossible to find a visiting nurse this time of year."

Not that I was one—yet. I was only in my first year of nursing school. But how hard could it be to help her dad for one night?

"He's in the living room right now," Lena said, her tone hurried. "Once you help him get ready for bed, take him to the guest room downstairs. He can't handle the stairs with his leg in that cast. I already made him dinner and gave him painkillers, so he should not be as grumpy as he had been all day after breaking his leg just before the holidays. If anything comes up, just call me, okay?"

"I'm sure I can handle it," I replied.

"Great, because I'm already late for my shift at the club." Lena worked as a server at a high-end club downtown, squeezing every extra dollar she could for the holidays. She grabbed a large travel bag, and I couldn't help but notice it seemed far too big just for work.

"Oh, and I've got another favor to ask," Lena said, pausing at the door with a sheepish expression. "I'm heading to Mom's for the next two days. She's been guilt-tripping me about spending the holidays with her."

I blinked. "So, you're leaving me in charge of your injured dad? For two days? During Christmas?"

"Come on, Maya," she said, her tone turning pleading. "It's just helping him out a bit. You're a natural, an exceptional nurse in the making. Think of it as practice."

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Fine. I'll manage. But you owe me, big time."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaimed, flashing a relieved smile as she dashed away. "You're the best! I'll see you in two days!"

I closed the door behind me, shrugged off my coat, and called out, "Mr. Carter?"

I followed the faint groan into the living room and found him in an armchair, his cast leg propped up on a cushioned ottoman. He wore shorts and a simple T-shirt that clung to his chest, the type of fit that suggested years of hard work around the property.

His eyes flicked over to me. "What are you wearing, Maya?" he asked, his tone more curious than critical.

I glanced down at myself, suddenly aware of the outfit I hadn't had time to change out of after practice at the local hospital. The fitted top clung to me, its crisp white fabric tucked into a skirt that hugged my hips and flared slightly at the hem.

"Oh, right," I said, tugging self-consciously at the waistband. "I just came from clinicals."

"You look sexy," he said, a lazy smile curling on his lips, his eyes heavy and unfocused as they settled on me.

I forced a casual laugh, though it came out awkward and shaky, betraying just how much his simple compliment had rattled me. My cheeks burned, and I could feel the heat creeping down my neck. Mr. Carter had always struck me as attractive in an unnerving way—his rugged charm, the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint silver streaks in his dark hair.

But it wasn't just his looks, though those alone were enough to make me feel like a love-struck schoolgirl. It was the way he carried himself, so confident, so sure, like someone who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it.

He'd had Lena young, so despite the age gap, he was only in his mid-forties. Still, I knew better than to let my foolish crush mean anything. To him, I was just a silly girl. Just Lena's friend.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, his smile faltering. "That was inappropriate. I'm a little out of it from the painkillers."

"It's fine," I breathed. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst. "So, Lena said you already had dinner. What else do you need?" I asked quickly, desperate to change the topic.

"Well," he said with a sigh, gesturing toward his leg, "I could really use a shower, but that's not happening with this stupid cast."

"Oh, do you have any of those waterproof sheets or covers?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied with an awkward smile. "Lena already put them on the bed I'll be using. She was worried I might have an accident with the bedpan, since getting to the bathroom on crutches isn't exactly easy when I'm dizzy from these pills."

"That'll work well. Let's get you to bed, then," I said, walking toward him.

I grabbed the crutches leaning against the wall and passed them to him. He accepted them with a nod, shifting in the chair as I moved to his side. One hand braced his arm while the other pressed lightly against his back, guiding him as he pushed himself upright. His movements were stiff, a low grunt breaking the silence as he lifted himself, his cast leg hovering off the floor.

"Take your time, no rush," I said softly, staying close as he adjusted his balance on the crutches.

I walked beside him, matching his pace as we made our way to the guest bedroom. His breathing was controlled, but there was a noticeable strain with each step. Once we reached the bed, I guided him to the edge and helped him lower himself down. He exhaled sharply as he leaned back, his leg carefully propped on the pillows already set up for support.

"Comfortable?" I asked.

"As comfortable as I'm going to get," he said with a wry smile, looking up at me. "Thanks.«

"I'll be right back," I said, stepping out of the room.

I headed to the bathroom, searching the cabinets until I found a basin for water. Filling it with warm water, I grabbed a towel, a bar of soap from the counter, and the bath sponge hanging in the shower. Balancing everything carefully in my arms, I returned to the guest bedroom.

"What's this?" he asked.

"I'm going to give you a sponge bath," I said matter-of-factly.

"Oh, thank you, Maya, but I don't think—"

"It's my job," I cut him off. 

I set the basin of warm water on the nightstand. "First, we need to get this off," I said, gesturing to his T-shirt.

He hesitated for a moment before nodding, his gaze meeting mine briefly. I stepped closer, hooking my fingers under the hem of his shirt and lifting it carefully. He winced as he shifted, the movement awkward with his cast leg, but he raised his arms to help.

"There we go," I said softly, folding the shirt neatly and setting it aside on the chair. My eyes flicked to his chest for a moment before I quickly busied myself with the sponge and the bar of soap, heat creeping into my cheeks.

I placed a towel under his arm, my fingers brushing his skin as I adjusted it. Dipping the sponge into the warm, soapy water, I wrung it out and pressed it gently to his neck, letting it glide over his skin. His muscles tightened slightly under my touch, the movement faint but impossible to miss.

His shoulders were solid, his chest strong, each detail drawing my focus. My breath caught, a quiet gasp I tried to suppress as I continued. The sponge moved in slow strokes, the soap lathering his skin as I worked. I kept my eyes down, but I could feel his eyes on me, making it hard to concentrate.

"Is this okay?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly, betraying the nerves I was trying so hard to hide.

"Yeah."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to focus on the task, though my hands trembled slightly with every pass of the sponge.

"Lean forward," I said softly, and he complied, letting me clean his back in long, even strokes. The room was quiet except for the occasional sound of water dripping into the basin.

"Feels good?" I asked, glancing at his face. The moment our eyes met, I regretted it. His deep, ocean-blue gaze held mine, pulling me in like a tide I couldn't resist. For a second, I wanted to let it drown me.

"Mmm," he murmured, his voice low, breaking the spell and snapping me back to reality.

I moved to his arms next, lifting each one carefully to clean them. His hand brushed mine briefly as I sponged off his forearm, and I glanced away. Once his upper body was done, I grabbed a fresh towel to dab him dry.

"Now let's get those shorts off," I said, my voice feigning nonchalance as I placed the sponge back into the basin. But my core throbbed with anticipation at the thought of seeing, of touching Mr. Carter's cock. All those nights of secret fantasies and masturbation were about to become a reality, giving me more material for those lonely nights in my dorm room.

"Maya, I can do that myself."

I forced myself to meet his gaze, and a fire ignited between my legs. "Let me. I want to take care of you, Mr. Carter."

He exhaled, resigned, and shifted slightly to give me access. I knelt by the bed, my fingers brushing his waist as I carefully tugged the shorts down, mindful of the cast covering his leg. The fabric slipped past his hips, revealing his bare skin and a thick bush of dark hair. He wasn't wearing underwear, his half-erect cock twitching as I pulled the shorts down further, the material brushing against his thighs. I folded them neatly and placed them on the chair nearby.

I sat next to him on the bed as I grabbed the sponge again, dipping it into the warm water. Starting with his good leg, I moved the sponge over his skin in slow motions. I kept my eyes locked on the task, refusing to look up, knowing that if I did, I'd lose whatever thin thread of control I had left.

When I reached his cast leg, I paused. "Let me know if this hurts," I said as I sponged around the edges of the cast with extra care.

"You're good."

I dipped the sponge into the warm water and wrung it out again, my hands trembling despite my efforts to stay composed. I moved lower, my breath hitching as I reached for his groin. His swollen length stood out, the tip slick with precum, an unmistakable sign that he was just as affected by this as I was.

I began washing his cock, my fingers carefully wrapping around the hard length, the sponge in my other hand. I cleaned the shaft and head gently, paying extra attention to the foreskin and pulling it back to clean every inch thoroughly. His erection grew with each stroke, the veins throbbing as he became harder, his breathing becoming more ragged as I continued to wash him.

"Do you want me to stop?" I whispered as I looked up at him, desire surging through me, clouding any trace of restraint.

"Hell no. Keep going."

Staring into his eyes, I let the sponge slip from my hand and into the basin, forgotten. My fingers replaced it, slowly trailing down the length of his rock-hard manhood, each touch deliberate, as if daring him to stop me.

His body shuddered with each stroke, his cock pulsing against my palm. I gripped him tightly, my thumb teasing the sensitive head and spreading the slick, silky cum all over it. His hips bucked slightly in response to my touch.

"Fuck," he groaned, his pupils dilated, hazed with something that wasn't just the heavy painkillers.

The way his intense gaze locked onto me left no doubt in my mind. I knew exactly what he wanted—what he needed. My body ached with the same want, and I was more than eager to give him everything.

I leaned forward, my lips parting, and took the bulbous head of his cock into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. He inhaled sharply as I sucked him deeper, my lips sliding down his shaft, my tongue caressing the underside, my hand stroking the base. His precum poured into my mouth, a sweet reward, and I swallowed, my body trembling with desire, my walls convulsing with the need to feel him buried deep inside me.

"Oh, Maya," he groaned. "Come here."

"But your leg," I protested.

"It'll be fine," he assured me.

As I got to my feet, a tingling sensation of excitement coursed through my body. Locking eyes with him, I slowly peeled off my top, his gaze immediately dropping to the white lace of my bra. My hands moved to the clasp, unhooking it. The straps slid down my shoulders, and the fabric fell to the floor, revealing my petite, plump breasts, my pink nipples erect with arousal.

I eased my skirt down over my thighs until it slid to the floor, pooling at my feet and leaving me in nothing but a pair of frilly white panties soaked with desire. Biting my lower lip, I slipped my fingers into the waistband, the heat between my legs growing unbearable as I began to slide them down. His eyes followed every movement, devouring the sight of my bare skin.

I stepped out of my panties, my shaved mound now exposed, the protruding labia glistening with need. The cold air nipped at my skin, causing my nipples to stiffen and ache even more.

"Come here," he said again, his voice hoarse.

I climbed onto the bed, careful of his injured leg, and straddled him, my bare pussy hovering over his hardness. My swollen folds were dripping with desire, begging to be parted and taken by him.

"I want you," I whispered.

With my palms firmly planted against his solid chest, I lowered myself with deliberate slowness, my soft, warm core enveloping his rigid length until I was fully impaled on his shaft. A guttural moan tore from my throat as I felt his swollen thickness pulse deep inside me, knowing he thrived on the sensation of being bareback in my tight, slick heat. 

I began to ride him, grinding my hips in a frenzied dance. My sensitive clit ached for more stimulation as his straining member plunged into my wetness, my walls stretching to accommodate his girth. My core was on fire, clenching and pulsating around him like a wanton beast, craving every inch of his thick rod, milking his length with every deep penetration.

My eyes closed, head thrown back, I pushed the tempo, my movements becoming faster, more urgent, my hips slamming down on his cock, my moans turning into desperate mewls of ecstasy. His hands gripped my hips tightly, pushing me down onto him with each thrust.

"Oh, fuck," I gasped as my walls clamped around him, my body shuddering with pleasure as a warm flow of my juices flooded over him.

"Cum inside me," I moaned, consumed by the mind-numbing pleasure of my climax and ignoring any potential consequences. All I wanted was to feel his seed pulsing within me, filling my womb with his fertile essence.

"I'm cumming," he growled.

I rode him harder, my walls convulsing around his shaft, urging him on. With a guttural grunt, he thrust deep inside me, his hot seed spilling into my welcoming core. Spurts of his white sperm coated my insides, making my crush on him even stronger.

"Oh, Mr. Carter," I gasped, collapsing on top of him, my body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

His cock still throbbed inside me, his warm cum rooted deep within, as he held me close, his hands stroking my back, his breath ragged in my ear.

"You're the best nurse ever," he said. "I've never felt so taken care of."

I smiled, my mind hazy and drunk on the high of my peak. "I'm not done with you yet," I said, a playful edge to my tone. "You still need to be cleaned up."

With a naughty grin, I climbed off him and sat on the bed beside him, licking my lips suggestively. My wet tongue traced his half-erect member, tasting my creamy nectar mixed with his potent sperm. I hungrily lapped up every drop, repeatedly running my tongue up and down its shaft until there was nothing left.

"Maya, can you spend the night?" he asked, his voice hesitant, yet hopeful. "In case I need your help again, and well, I don't want to be alone for the holidays."

I smiled. "Of course I'll stay," I said, snuggling close to him. "I'll be here for you, whatever you need."

He exhaled deeply. "Thank you, Maya. You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time."

"Get some rest," I said with a playful giggle, my heart feeling unexpectedly light. "You'll need your strength if I'm sticking around. I'm not easy to handle, you know."

"I think I'll manage," he chuckled.

"Goodnight, Mr. Carter," I whispered, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his chest.

"Goodnight, sweet girl," he murmured, pulling me closer.

Within moments, we drifted off to sleep.

THE END