"Oh dear! Did we have a little accident in the night, then?"

Heavily-accented and in her best admonishing tone, the pretty young Scottish nurse looked down at the semen stain on Michael's bed sheet.

"Err... wet dream, nurse."

She took a step back and looked ascance at the muscular 36-year-old, her hands planted on her hips. "At your age, Mr Reynolds? I hardly think so; nocturnal emissions are usually experienced by adolescents. Do you want me to get that sheet changed?"

"No, don't bother. I can live with it," he replied nonchalantly.

She lowered her voice and said with a smirk, "Well if you don't want to get me the sack, just cover it up when the consultant comes on his rounds, would you?"

"Sure." He gave her a knowing wink and went back to his crossword.

Two weeks earlier, Michael had been in a serious road accident with his live-in girlfriend Tina. Travelling at night by taxi along an un-lit rural road, in the English county of Shropshire, they had been visciously side-swiped by a huge tractor. It had taken the emergency services two hours to extricate the three victims from the wreckage. The taxi driver and Tina escaped with minor cuts and bruisings, but Michael (who hadn't been wearing his seat belt) suffered a broken leg and multiple bruising. Tina was discharged from Mellor General Hospital the following morning.

Michael's small ward had only three other patients. There was aged and senile Mr Scargill, Mr Robson, recently brought in from Intensive Care after a triple-bypass heart operation, and (in the next bed) a football fanatic named Wayne. From the Manchester United paraphernalia above and around his bed - red-and-white scarves, shirts and woolen hats - it was pretty obvious which English soccer team Wayne supported.

Nurse Rachel McIntyre wafted back in. Pumping up Michael's pillow, she whispered:, "Hey up, Mr Patel's on his way. Now don't let me down!"

A serious-looking young Indian consultant stood at the end of Michael's bed studying his official notes. He held at orange folder under his arm. He moved to the bedside as the nurse gingerly folded back the sheets. She was hugely relieved to see that the cum stain was now hidden by a discreetly-positioned white damask napkin. "Nurse McIntyre here is going to swing your legs over the edge of the bed, Mr Reynolds - if that's alright?"

He gently probed Michael's damaged right knee and lower leg. "Getting on alright with the braces?"

"Fine, thank you."

The agile nurse wrapped her slender arms around his lower legs and deftly re-positioned his torso in the bed, giving his right thigh a gentle stroke before replacing the bedding. Michael picked up her lovely musky body odour.

The Indian wrote some notes in his folder. "I've checked yesterday's X-rays, Mr Reynolds, and the good news is that your multiple fracture is mending well. The bad news is that you're going to have to have a stainless steel pin inserted. Which I'm afraid means an operation - when you're strong enough to withstand the anaesthetic."

Michael looked down at Rachel, now standing at the foot of the bed. "So how much longer will I be in for, Mr Patel?"

"I'd say at least a fortnight." Rachel gave Michael a sweet smile and then followed the consultant out.

* * * * *

"I've come to give you a blanket bath," the Scottish nurse announced in the afternoon, placing a tube of lubricant on Michael's bedside table. She wheeled in the washing equipment trolley and drew the curtains around his bed. She carefully folded back the bedding, then untied his pyjama shorts and slipped them down to his ankles.

The small ward was quiet. Wayne was engrossed in a replay on his i-Pad, while Messrs Scargill and Robson snored quietly. But Rachel McIntyre made no attempt to begin washing her patient. Instead, she squeezed a generous length of lube onto her hand and then ran it sensuously down Michael's penis. His grateful erection was almost instantaneous. With her spare hand she raised an index finger to her lips to indicate silence.

She was a most accomplished masturbator, bringing him to a heavenly conclusion inside two minutes. Sensing his imminent climax, she pointed the top of his penis towards his neck, allowing the ejaculating spunk to make three long ropes down his chest. Michael let out a long, low ecstatic groan and closed his eyes.

He felt her running a finger up his chest and as he opened his eyes he saw her licking it eagerly. She grinned at him and winked. The 'true' bathing operation was completed efficiently and within half-an-hour the equipment and the fragrant Nurse McIntyre had gone.

Michael's evening visitor was his girlfriend, Tina, who spent the first ten minutes complaining about the rudeness of the customers using the shopping-on-line call centre where she worked. Michael wished he could go back to his crossword or, better still, have another of Nurse McIntyre's special blanket baths.

"I've been thinking, Tina. What with me being stuck in here for at least another two weeks, then convalescing, then probably not being able to drive... what about you and me having a 'cooling-off period'?"

"Good idea," she responded promptly.

"You could stay on at the apartment while I'm here... then maybe find somewhere else?"

"Good idea. Oh, and I brought you these." She dumped a box of chocolates on the bed.

Nurse McIntyre looked in a few minutes later, having seen Tina flounce out. "Visitor gone?"

"Yeah."

"Your girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend."

"Oooops. I do hope I wasn't to blame?"

"Of course not; it's been simmering below the surface for weeks."

She leant forward and tucked his sheet in tidily. "Michael, that was so sexy, what we did, wasn't it?"

"It certainly was." He pecked her on the cheek and once again noticed her musky body oil.

"I was so turned on, I came too!"

"Wow, how lovely for you. I'm so pleased."

"Thanks, petal. Loved watching you cum. And tasting you. We must do it again!"

"Yes, please! Tell me, are you still wearing the knickers - the ones you came in?" Slightly embarrassed, she nodded. "Can I have them? You know, to keep under my pillow - so I can smell you at night?" 

"We'll see."

* * * * *

The following morning after breakfast, two male orderlies arrived with a wheelchair, which they parked alongside Michael's bed. Nurse McIntyre announced that as it was a fine day, the Ward Sister had instructed that the patient was to be wheeled down to the hospital's solarium for the morning. "I'll pop down later to see how you're getting on," she assured him, giving his hand a knowing squeeze.

Michael sat reading through the hospital's accumulated collection of dog-eared periodicals, before dropping off to sleep in the sunshine. He was awoken by a soft touch on the nape of his neck. Without turning around, he reached up to grasp Rachel's hand.

"I've brought you a present." She popped a small clinical pouch under the blanket which covered his legs. "I thought you might find a use for them tonight!" she whispered in his ear. "They're still moist!"

He gave a broad smile. "You're an angel!"

Two patients were wheeled away, leaving no-one within earshot. She pulled up a chair and sat in front of him, smiling.

"Rachael, I've been working on a cunning plan!"

"Which is? Another blanket bath?"

"Better!"

"What?"

"When are you next on nights?"

"Next week. Why?"

"Well, if we left it until, say 2.00a.m., when my fellow patients are all sound asleep (unless, of course, bloody Wayne's watching a late kick-off game!), we could... well..."

"We could what?"

"What d'you think?"

"You mean... do it?"

"Yeah, why not? I'll have my legs over the edge of the bed - like when Mr Patel came round yesterday - you come into the ward wearing no knickers.

Then you pull the curtains across as if I've asked for a bed pan..."

"Then what?"

He took her hand and whispered, "Then, babe, you slowly lower your sweet wet pussy down onto my shaft while sitting on my lap!"

"You're mad!"

"I know." He took both her hands in his. "Mad about you, Rachel!"

"It wouldn't work."

"Why not?"

"Because we couldn't possibly..." she hesitated before using the word, "... fuck in silence. I certainly couldn't. I'm told I sometimes make a terrible noise!"

"By whom?"

She got flustered. "Oh, an ex-."

"When?"

"Ages ago."

"So when was the last time you did it?"

"Christmas Eve."

"Blimey, that was four months ago!"

"Tell me about it, sweetie! And that was a three-minute, up-against-the-wall shag with a total stranger who'd picked me up at a nurses' night out in a local wine bar!"

"And did you enjoy it?"

"From what I recall (I was pretty drunk) it was rubbish. What's more he came all over my best party frock!"

"Well this is going to be different, I promise you that."

"Yeah, different all right! We'll get discovered and reported, and I'll get thrown out of the nursing profession!"

"No way! Scargill and Robson sleep like babes and if you slipped a mild sedative into young Wayne's cocoa, you could scream the roof down. Anyway, it's always been one of my un-fulfilled ambitions."

"What has?"

He grinned. "To have a lover who was a 'screamer'."

She was about to lean forward to kiss him when the two orderlies re-appeared, to wheel their patient back to the ward.

That night, Michael slept soundly, with Rachel's fragrant knickers laid on his pillow by his head. In the early hours he awoke, and silently wanked onto them, to return to her as a keep-sake.

* * * * *

The rest of the week moved interminably slowly, with the sensuous, open-mouthed 'thank-you' kiss from Rachel being its sole highlight. Dr Patel called by to fix the date for Michael's operation, and to take him through the post-operative physiotherapy programme which would be necessary.

"Tell me, nurse," asked Michael in a loud clear voice, as breakfast was being cleared away on the Saturday, "what day of the week do night shifts start here at Mellor General?" He stared at the area of her crotch.

"Sunday through to Saturday. Why do you ask, Mr Reynolds?"

"No reason. Just curious."

* * * * *

Sunday stretched ahead endlessly. Michael's mother visited, bearing the inevitable box of chocolates. He had intended to tell her about the split-up with Tina, but his ex- had got in first.

"You're well rid of that one, dearie. I'm sure you can do better." But before Mrs Reynolds could provide chapter and verse on what, precisely, 'better' might be, the buxon Nigerian Ward Sister appeared to collect the tea things.

Across the room, Mr Scargill rambled incoherently about the Tory government to his wife, while Mr Robson remained engrossed in a Sunday newspaper. Wayne watched three Manchester United replays.

Michael didn't set eyes on his adored Rachel until just before 10.00p.m. Looking composed and pristine-fresh in her snug-fitting, crisp white uniform, she brought weak teas for the two old men and a mug of hot chocolate for young Wayne. She slipped alongside Michael's bed, screening her movements from the other three patients, asking sweetly, "And how are we this evening, Mr Reynolds?"

He smirked. "Never better, nurse."

"Good. Lights out at 10.00p.m. sharp tonight, gentlemen. Sister's orders." Then, turning to Wayne, "And no late-night replays, young man!" She winked at Michael and left as Wayne was downing the dregs of his spiked cocoa.

Rachael McIntyre returned promptly at 2.00a.m. The low-level night security lights only just picked out her petite, shoeless figure. She quietly pulled the curtains, before coming to stand by his bedside. He offered her his hand, which she first stroked tenderly, then drew imaginary circles around the palm of one hand with her finger. With her free hand she raised her uniform's skirt, took his hand and placed it across her moist uncovered pussy. He saw for the first time that her short red hairs were trimmed as a cute Brazilian Landing Strip.

Instinctively, he began to run his index finger up her slit. He explored until he had found her tender love bud. She leant forward and kissed him. But for the humming of the air conditioning, there was silence in the small ward.

She rolled his bedding back and carefully slipped his two legs across the edge of the bed. Then she eased his shorts down and removed them, using them to kneel as she prepared to suck his cock for the first time. She delighted at her first taste of his sweet pre-cum. He placed his hand softly on the back of her head and quietly moaned.

She rose from the floor to kiss him, slowly and tenderly sliding her pre-cum-moistened tongue into his mouth.

He whispered, "Darling, before we do it, will you sit on my face? I so want to eat your sweet pussy?"

Adroitly, she lowered his upper body onto two pillows then gracefully stepped onto the bed, squatted across his chest and then slowly lowered herself onto his face. His tongue darted inside. She immediately responded by grinding her tiny buttocks against him. Now her love juices were flowing freely. He nudged her clitoris with the bridge of his nose and inhaled the heavenly fluid.

They both froze as Mr Scargill bellowed, "I ain't payin' your bloody Poll Tax, Maggie Thatcher!" before returning to his nightmare. Robson was undisturbed and Wayne was out for the count.

Michael watched Rachel nimbly climb down off the bed and raise his body to an upright position. 'Would she remain clothed?' he wondered. 'Perhaps just lift up her skirt, before sitting on my cock?'

Neither of the above. The young nurse deftly disrobed to the buff. Even in the ward's dim lighting, it was a sensational body. She had small pert breasts with puffy nipples, which she was eagerly stroking stiff, a slim waist and hips, slender legs and tiny feet.

She stood before him naked, then took his hand and guided it once more to her private slit. He nudged it open with the knuckle of his index finger. Turning around and raising herself on tiptoes, she placed one hand behind her back and grasped his cock. Drawing his tip several times across her wet opening, she began guiding it expertly into her cunt. As if anticipating his entry, her pussy gave a discreet but audible burp. She giggled quietly with embarrassment, but continued slowly lowering herself onto his throbbing cock. There was a lovely squishing sound as the two cum-coated organs conjoined in copulation.

Her vertical rising and falling motion reminded Michael of a nubile dressage rider he had once watched at a gymkhana. Each up-stoke took her soft pussy lips to his knob head's very rim; each down-stroke planted her buttocks firmly in his lap. When he was fully inside her, she expertly gripped his shaft with her vagina muscles. He wanted it to go on forever.

But yet... he wanted it to finish now! With a mighty, forceful ejaculation, so powerful that he would fill her with his seed. Feel it splash out and erupt from her cunt and run down his cock

And so it did, accompanied by mutual muffled moans from the two lovers. She whispered softly over her shoulder, "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fucking fuck!"

Standing before him some minutes later, still naked and now oozing his warm semen down her thighs, she took his face between her hands and whispered, "Now that's what I call a nocturnal emission!"