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Lesbian Nurse
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Chapter 1
I moved to Guildford two years ago; John was transferred and I had to
leave my job as a secretary for Colson's, a wine importer back in
Warminster. I had no real qualifications, but we needed the money from
both of us working - and I was getting bored fixing up the new house and
window-shopping in the town centre. Eventually John bought up my old
nursing qualification - It'd already occurred to me, but I wasn't sure
that it was what I wanted now. I'd drifted into the classes at 16, with
nothing else to do, and passed the qualifiying exams, then after
half-heartedly applying for a couple of local posts thrown it all up and
worked for Colson's for four stagnant years.
John thought it was a great idea. "Give them a call tomorrow, love", he
said, nestled under my arm as we lay in bed that night. His hands were
wandering about in their familiar and welcome pre-sex rounds; I lay
back, relaxed as he gently turned me on, stroking the outline of my
thighs, the curve of my bottom, my stomach. I saw him looking at my
nipples under my T shirt - he knows how sensitive they are, what they do
to me - and I felt the melting begin in my tummy as he pulled the T
shirt up to my shoulders and sucked the nearest erect nipple between his
warm lips, tweaking the other between the outside of his index and
middle fingers. I lay there passively, as his suction drove pleasure
throughout my body, radiating from my nipples, my breath deepening. He
lay on his side at my side, now, and I could feel the heat of his cock
throbbing against the cool, smooth skin of my thigh. It felt bigger
than its seven inches (I've measured it for him!), hot and blunt; I
couldn't stop my bottom shifting in the bed of its own accord to turn
and press my thighs against it, my breasts against his lightly-haried
chest. Now I felt my usual urgent need to be taken by him, to be
overwhelmed; my open mouth found his and our tongues talked and
chattered. His large hands ranged down over my bottom, first pressing
it down to push my delta gainst his stiff tool, then to part the globes
with his palms while running his forefinger lightly over my anus, then
down, gently, to make small, gentle circles at the now sticky bottom of
my vagina while his other hand tweaked a nipple sharply.
He shifted, pushing me on my back and rising - I opened my legs to him,
held out my arms for him as he positioned himself above me - in the
half-light I could see the outlines of his cock as it rose past his
navel. I would have it - in me - now! At the thought I felt an
unbearable sticky itch within me that only his cock could scratch, I
murmured, "Fuck your cock in me, Fuck me!" With one hand he forced it
down, pushed the plump head up and down in my slick entrance, pressed on
the hood over my clitoris, then, as if tiring of teasing me, he
manouvered his stiff, vein-ribbed dong, it was stiff, stiff, to the
inner channel, then quickly, smoothly, pushed it all, all of the stiff,
in my hot, oily tunnel.
Breath whooshed from me as he entered; the feel of the full length of
John's cock stretching me comfortably and juicily made me woozy with
pleasure: before I recovered I felt the brief intimate slap of his balls
against my smooth bottom-cheeks and his hand pulling at my left nipple
again. The sensations overwhelmed me, rode me up my pleasure, too many
to keep track of. I could feel all his veins in his cock as it pressed
in, the pleasure-pain in my soft breasts, his weight forcing me, taking
me, the butterball heat-itch in my middle being scratched with his
slick, blunt fuck-tool. I gasped out, my hair dischevelled, my hands at
his chest, my legs wrapped around his bottom, looking in his eyes as he
pounded me now, a thin sweat on his muscular body - bigger than me,
taking me - his thickness stove in and out, moving my pleasure on,
closer to blotting me.
"Cocksucker!" John said to me distractedly, his breath ragged,
"Fuck-Bitch". I could see he was approaching his orgasm, and I needed
mine - I pushed against him with my thighs, now, and his enraged cock
thrust in a little deeper, he slapped against me, and again - my
pleasure neared its peak as his thrusts became deeper, longer, His
frantic fingers pinched my nipple hard and pulled up on it with a sharp
pain - I surrendered to the body-filling waves of ecstacy. "Cunt,
Cunt!", his breath gasped from him now, and finally he pressed into me
with all his body, and even in my daze of sensations I felt his spunk
jet out from his iron cock, into me, filling me, his cock still filling
my channel, so full! I held him to me, savouring the completeness, my
vacant cunt filled.
Finally he shrunk, panting, and his heated body cleaved off from our
mingled sweat and clumped down beside me. Tendrils of pleasure sang me
to sleep.
Chapter 2
Guildford General did have a vacancy for a qualified Staff Nurse, in
fact for two of them. An interview was arranged for the following
friday with the ward sister, Angela Leighton, just after lunch. The
receptionist told me they'd had dozens of enquiries from an advert in a
local paper, so my hopes were pretty grim.
I wasted half an hour trying on various outfits - I settled on a
medium-length wollen skirt with a businesslike creme silk chemise,
without the bra - I didn't want them to think I was some old fogey, or
whatever.
When I turned up - a little early - I was shown into her little office,
and took a seat nervously. Angela wasn't there yet, so I sat quietly
with my hands in my lap and tried to think of something else. Muted
chatter and the clink and rumble of trolleys outside the open door
lulled me, and I relaxed a little. After a few minutes a nurse in her
early thirties with her blond hair tied severely back stepped through
the door with a sheaf of folders. "Are you Wendy Stanton?" I nodded
and rose, "Hello, " she said, with a smile, "I'm Angela Leighton -
Anglea, alright?" I smiled back. She sat down and leafed through a
pile of folders already on her desk. "Right - If I can just get this
form...OK. " She pulled a pen from her breast pocket. "OK.
Wendy...Stanton... - what's your address, Wendy?" I told her and she
copied it down. "Right - Erm, Female, no, no, yes, erm...
twenty-fifth.". She went on with questions about my qualifications and
school history. We covered previous employers, then she rose and shut
the door, and sat down again. "OK, Wendy, that's, erm, so far, so good.
Now I have to ask you some personal questions, do you mind?" I said
whatever was necessary was fine by me.
"OK." She ferreted out a clean sheet of paper and put the form to one
side. "When was your first sexual experience?" Well, this took me by
surprise a little. " Do you mean masturbation, or real intercourse?" I
asked. "Well, masturbation counts, I guess," she said, with a gleam in
her eyes. "When I was fourteen, then," I said. She made notes on the
paper. "Was that when you were alone, or .. mutual masturbation?" At
this a brief flash of memory of Claire flashed by, dislodging more
feelings with it than it ought to.
"Actually, it was with my best friend at the time.", I said in a sort of
impulsive confidence.
"A Girl, then?"
"Yes, " I said, reddening and wishing I hadn't been so honest. Anglea
gave no signs and made more notes.
"What is your sexual preference at the present time?", Angela looked me
straight in the eyes across the desk as she asked. "I can't believe
this is relevant, " I began.
"I know it seems that way, " said Anglea in a warm tone, "but trust me,
Wendy, it's very relevant to this job. But if you don't want to say..."
she let it hang. "Heterosexual.", I said. "Exclusively Heterosexual."
I added. Angela nodded sagely and gave me an appraising look that
covered most of my body. I looked down in confusion to see my nipples
erect through the silk chemise. I blushed and looked in the corner.
Angela coughed and the questions turned to my history of diseases and
allergies.
Finally, she finished and we both rose. She gave me a warm smile. "I
think you've done very well, Wendy; we'll be in touch." I felt her eyes
on my body as I left. Were those questions for real, or was she some
kind of lesbian?
Chapter Three
The 'phone rang on Tuesday morning - it was Angela herself. "Hello
Wendy! I'm very pleased to say that we've selected you for one of the
positions!"
"That's great," I said, pleased. "When do I start?"
"Sooner the better, I think, " said Anglea. "Why don't you come to my
house this evening and I'll take you through an idea of your duties?"
She gave me directions and her number in case I got lost, and I said I'd
be there for nine. I had a long bath that afternoon, and in the middle
of it remembered that John was working late tonight. I wrapped a towel
around me and called Angela at the Hospital to ask if she'd mind picking
me up, although John'd probably be back by the time we'd finished and
could drive me back. She was only the other side of town, anyhow. "No
problem, Wendy, No problem", she replied, "See you at nine. I'm really
looking forward to it.".
Jeez, what did that mean? I was beginning to wonder if Angela was a
Lesbian, and she fancied me. All those questions! What did I feel
about that? It reminded me of Claire; but that was a long time ago,
now. Somehow in my mind's eye my image of Claire seemed to be wearing
starch, white linen, now. I gave a little shiver and finished my bath.
I spent the next couple of hours lounging around, getting dinner and
watching TV, surprising myself a little with my growing restlessness. I
settled on jeans and a T-shirt, and after some indecision, decided on a
bra. As nine O'Clock approached, I grew steadily more nervous, and had
a glass of wine from out of the fridge to calm myself down.
The doorbell rang at five to nine - Angela stood there in her uniform.
"You're Ready?" she asked, with her warm smile. I told her I was, shut
the door and we both walked to her car.
"I hope it's not too late for you, tonight - it's just it's the end of
my shift at 8:30" she said, once we were underway. I told her it was
fine, and that anyway, I needed the job badly. We made small talk, and
eventually we pulled up at her block of flats. She parked the car, and
we got out into an awkward silence. She led the way to her flat,
unlocked the door. It was a cosy flat, with rugs on the floor and hung
on the walls, ornaments and nick-nacks everywhere. "Make yourself at
home," said Angela, and went off to make some tea. I made for the sofa
and looked around while Anglea made tea-making noises in the kitchen.
She had some photographs framed sitting on a dresser - there was a
couple of a little boy, as a young baby, then at two or so, then one of
Angela with a younger black-haired girl, standing in front of a tree
sheilding their eyes from the sun, and - my eyes must have bugged out -
one of Angela and the black haired girl kissing. I looked away, just in
time to collect my tea from Angela - she must have seen me looking, but
said nothing.
"OK, " said Angela, and she began to take me through the shift times,
and a quick idea of who I would be working with. I was half listening
to her. Running through my mind like a stuck record was "Angela licks
cunts". I stared at her lips as she spoke, unable to not imagine them
pushed against a moist cunt, her nose buried in the pubes. "Are you
free tomorrow afternoon? I'll show you around the ward, and introduce
you." I said I was.
"Angela," I said, hesitantly. She gave me her full attention with her
green eyes. "Can I ask you a question?"
She said nothing in a way that was an assent. "Are you... erm, do you
prefer... other women?" I croaked out, redenning.
"You mean, 'Am I a Lesbian'? What made you ask that," she said in an
even tone, giving nothing away.
"Well, the questions you asked at the interview, and, the... picture
over there...", I indicated, and ground into an embarassed silence.
"I'm sorry, " I began, "I shouldn't..."
"Yes, " she said, cutting me short. "I am a Lesbian. Women turn me on,
I love women. I don't hate men, just prefer women. By a good margin."
She looked me steadily in the eyes, I guess I gaped back at her. There
was a silence built of cast iron.
Chapter 4
"I'm not going to jump on you," she said finally, with her calm smile; I
laughed nervously. "Look, do you want to go? " she asked, in a way
indicating she would understand, wouldn't be offended. "No, No," I
insisted, "I just wanted to know." The silence grew out again, my hand
fidgeted in my lap.
"Wow, you look stressed out!" she exclaimed with a laugh. I smiled
nervously up at her. "Since you're staying, would you like something a
bit stronger than tea to calm you down? Bacardi, Martini...?" I was
aware we were heading into dangerous territory here, but an ambivilence
urged me on. "Yes, please!" I said. She smiled at me and made me a
Martini and lemonade - I accepted it and gulped half of it down. "Who
is your friend in the photgraph?" I asked.
"That's Melanie - I guess you'd have to call her my 'Lover'. We've
being going steady for three years, now. We don't live together,
though."
"Oh." I said. Angela eased herself beside me, at the oppsite end of
the three-seat sofa. She had been sitting in the Armchair across from
me. "Can I ask _you_ a question, now you've satisfied your curiosity,"
she said, looking mischevious. I said OK, and took another gulp of
Martini.
"How did you and your friend get together that time when you were
fourteen?" She certainly hadn't forgotten anything about our interview!
She must fancy me, that's why she invited me over here, she wants to..
she wants to fuck me, I thought, and my eyes glanced over her breasts.
She noticed my attention, and now her eyes were bright.
"Her name was Claire - she was a year older than me, much more confident
than I was. She - she made me do things." She had mastered me; I had
been her slave. She had teased me with her too-perfect blonde body
until I begged to lick her perfect little sixteen-year-old cunt for her,
tears in my eyes. She never cared for me, and finished with me in two
weeks, before moving on to greater victories; I was like some kind of
warm up for her. The last I heard of her, she was high up in a famous
woman's magazine in London.
"She made you just masturbate her? Did she make you do anything else?"
Angela had edged closer on the sofa. I felt a familiar warmth between
my legs; I shivered. I couldn't look Angela in the eyes, somehow, "She
made me, you know, do cunnilingus on her," I stammered out. I glanced
in her eyes, she was beside me now. She looked magnificent, strong and
confident, with me the object of her attention, her prey; it was almost
too much to smell her warm perfume. Her breasts jutted up at me,
crowded me. My nipples ached against my bra cup, my insides began to
melt. "Did you... enjoy it? Enjoy what she made you do? Did you like
being made to lick her cunt?" I stammered out some nonsense as I felt
her cool hand cup the back of my neck. "You like to be made to do
things, don't you?" I glanced about like a frightened rabbit, but her
gaze transfixed me, and I stared my lostness into her green eyes as she
leant closer and brushed my parted lips with hers. "Poor Darling," she
breathed, and stroked my hair. "You want to lick my cunt, don't you?
Do I make you wet? Hmm?" I couldn't have replied even if I knew what
to say. I felt so turned on by her attentions, by not knowing what she
would do to me, by her being in control, I was half out of my mind with
desire.
Her hand at the back of my neck gathered my hair and pulled down on it
hard enough to make me turn my face up. "Put your tongue out," she
commanded, keeping up the tension on my hair. I gazed at her, and
peeped the tip out; it felt so secret between us, we both imagined it
buried in her cunt. She laughed, and bent to kiss it, sucking hard on
it. "Lick my cunt, Hmm? Lick it?" her warm breath spoke into my
mouth, as I gasped back into hers. She released my hair, her hands were
on my breasts now; she jerked the T shirt out of my jeans, reached
inside and unhooked my bra. My full breasts spilt forward, to her
hands, at first with my nipples burning into her palms, then intense
sensations swept me as she twisted my nipples roughly between her thumb
and forefingers.
Abruptly she let me go, and held out her hands to help me up from the
sofa. I was in a state, my bra half-on, and half off, my T shirt
rumpled. She led me by the hand into her bedroom, and sat me on her
double bed. The sheets were cool under me. "I... I..." I stuttered,
but Angela was unzipping her nurse's uniform. She unhooked her bra,
kicked off her shoes and her small breasts bobbed free. She quickly
slid her skirt down, then her panties, revealing her carefully tended
mound. It was cut very short, and shaved at the sides. She was
evidently a natural blonde.
She stood in front of me, her hands in my hair again, pushing my face
into her warm pubes. "Lick my cunt, Wendy, put your tongue in. I'm wet
for you. Lick me!" She parted her thighs, and ground my willing face
into her moist slit. The dark, heady perfume of her juices filled my
lungs, intoxicated me. She hunched forward, and I craned my head
forward, then squeezed my tongue between her cuntlips, tasting her heat
and moisture. How sweet her moisture was! With one hand she pressed my
face into her mound, the other was busy at her nipples, pulling them out
and letting them snap back painfully. "Oh, you tongue me, you slut,"
she hissed, "you tongue-fuck my cunt." She rocked her thighs into my
face. My tongue pressed into her moist creases, tasting her sweet fresh
juices.
Suddenly she pulled back, and tugged at my T shirt, pulling it up and
over my head. I held out my arms meekly, staring at her breasts with
their stiff nipple-turrets, and she pulled it off, my breasts jiggling,
my nipples taut. As she leaned over me to undo my jeans, I craned up and
caught a nipple between my lips briefly, then lay back as she took off
my jeans and jerked my panties down. She pushed me roughly over on my
tummy, grabbed my hair with one hand, and pulled it tight enough to hurt
a little. "Slut! " she said loudly, and her open hand came down hard on
my bottom with a loud smack. It stung and I cried out, muffled by the
bedcovers. "You want to tongue me, Slut! Say it!" She smacked me
again, harder. "Say it to me!" The burning in my bottom joined with
the warmth in my tingling slit.
"I..." She pulled back harder on my hair, bringing my head off the
bedcovers, smacked me again. Tendrils of pleasure-pain felt around by
body. "I want to tongue your cunt," I whispered. And I did. I adored
her strength, the way she dominated me. I wanted to worship between her
legs. I felt her thumb force its way between my exposed bottom-cheeks,
and press in and out against my anus. I was hot, hot. I wanted to be
taken.
She roughly turned me over again, on my back, and straddled herself on
top of me. She moved up until her breasts we above my face. "Suck my
titties, Slave-Slut," she commanded from above me. I reached up and
caressed them, then craned up and captured each nipple in turn, sucking
the nipples hard, how I like it. "Ooooh, feels good!" Angela gasped.
After a moment one of her hands reached down to roll and tweak my left
nipple painfully hard. I raised a knee and ground it into her behind,
above me. It felt hot and sticky. We continued this way for minute,
then she raised herself, and bought her sweet cunt over my face. We
stared into each other's eyes with lust and love. "Tongue me, Slut?" she
teased, her perfect blonde quim inches above my hungry lips. "Yes,
yes," I husked. Finally, she pressed her open thighs down on my mouth.
Her hot, sticky moistness enveloped me, and I was glad. I opened my
mouth so my top lip worked on her clitoris as I moved my head, while my
tongue pressed into her as far as it could go.
She rocked on her kees above me, her hands reaching back to squeeze my
breasts and brush my nipples. My own cunt ached for her, now. After a
time her movements became spasmodic on me, and she deserted my breasts.
I looked up to see her hands clamped on her own, her eyes closed, mouth
parted. My tongue tasted sweeter juices deep inside her. She was
close. I nibbled on her clitoris, my hands wanton on her bottom-cheeks,
moulding them, pressing her into my face. I wormed a finger between
them, as she had done to me, and pressed at her anus. She gasped, above
me, and her thighs jerked frantcally on my face. I moved to remove my
finger, but a quick hand darted down and pushed it back into place. Her
anus relaxed rythmically on my finger, but I kept up a gentle probing
pressure with my fingertip.
After a few moments, she collapsed on top of me, panting. Her nipples
burnt into my breasts, and mine into hers. Her mouth sought mine, and
our tongues entwined. I knew she could taste her own juices from me.
Her leg slipped between mine and at last her thigh squashed my pulpy
slit, to my pleasure. Her caressing hand trailed down my body, reached
between my thighs. She ran her forefinger smoothly up and down my oily
channel, slipping over my raised clitoris and lightly into my vagina.
"Oooh, like that, Slut?" she breathed. I ached to feel her within me.
"Fuck me, make me come!" I gasped. Her smooth finger slicked up and
down. She leaned down and covered my mouth with hers. My thighs parted
wider and I quivered. Her hand twisted - now her thumb stroked
horizontally across my clitoris, and her slick, oily finger wormed
confidently into my bottom. I bucked as she pressed her fingetip into
my anus, but her weight held me down, and her tongue licked mine
soothingly. Her experienced finger slipped in, lubricated by my juices
- it's itchy-burning in me connected with her thumb toying with my
clitoris and I caught fire in my bottom and in my cunt. My hips jerked,
my breath rushed in and out - her finger slid in my anus all the way to
its knuckle. My back arched, and I came, came in my cunt and in my
bottom, like never before - my whole body was alight, my tensed muscles
sang.
Sensing I was coming, Angela slid down my body, and replaced her thumb
with her tongue. She splurged her hot tongue into my wet slit, and
shifted her head up and down so the whole surface of her broad, muscular
tongue pressed up and down the inside of my cunt-lips. Her finger in my
bottom vibrated, tickling deep in my anal canal. I came again, and
again.
Eventually she slipped her finger out of my bottom, and moved up the bed
to me. As I lay there panting, she embraced me, kissed me tenderly and
stroked my hair. We lay there, our legs entangled, each feeling the
other's smooth thigh against their soaked cunt. I felt that she owned
me, and I was proud.
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