This story can only be found bundled with the Erotic Novella “Minor Indiscretion”
The rain just wouldn’t quit as Kimberly (Kim to her friends) walked the half-mile to work that morning. She had a terrible headache. She’d had it now for three days and it just wouldn’t go away.
Kimberly was a nurse, a very good one. She was well respected by her peers and liked by her friends in fact, she was the kind of woman people in general liked to associate with. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and legs that wouldn’t quit; but her best assets were her breasts. She was proud of her body and didn’t care who knew it.
If I don’t get my finger out I’m going to be late, she thought to herself.
“You’re late Kim,” she heard someone say.
“I know, I’ve got a terrible headache!” she replied, turning to find nobody there.
Kimberly looked all around her and found she was alone in the car park, which was situated opposite the hospital. In fact, the only person she could see was Dean, who even now was putting his hand up to wave, but he was in the window of the first floor.
That’s strange, she thought. I could have sworn I heard a voice. She brushed it off as the wind playing tricks on her and proceeded into the building.
“Morning Kim,” her friend Connie said. “Horrible out there isn’t it?”
“Yes, not a good day at all,” replied Kim.
Connie could see something was up and being a good friend, she asked if there was something wrong.
“I’ve still got that headache from yesterday,” was the reply. “It just won’t quit.”
“Perhaps you should see someone,” Connie said, looking genuinely concerned.
“God, I wish I could fuck Kim,” said a voice. Kim turned around to find one of the patients heading towards the toilet.
“Please don’t use that kind of language in the hallways,” Kimberly said, looking angry.
“I didn’t say a word!” the patient protested.
“I clearly heard you say, “God, I wish I could fuck Kim,'” she said.
The patient looked stunned for a second then whispered into her ear, “I didn’t say that Kim, but I did think it.”
Kimberly looked at him, seeing that he looked serious; she turned to Connie asking whether she had heard his remark.
“No, he didn’t say anything,” her friend said with a worried look on her face. “Are you sure you’re well enough to be here Kim?”
“Apart from this confounded headache I’m fine,” she replied.
Kimberly went about her duties that morning without any more strange occurrences. At lunch she sat on her own thinking about the flat she had just moved into, wondering when she would find the time to decorate it. She had just finished her lunch when the pain from her headache started to get worse, the next thing she knew was blackness as she passed out.
When she awoke, she found herself in one of the private offices the doctors used for telling the patients what was about to happen to them once they were admitted to the hospital. She could hear voices in the adjacent room and called out for help.
Doctor Peterson popped his head around the corner. “Oh, so your back with us are you? You gave us quite a scare,” he said, picking up her wrist to check her pulse.
“What happened?” was all she could say.
“It seems you passed out, my dear, but you seem fine now. Connie told me that you’ve been suffering from headaches for three days. Is that true?” he said.
“Yes, I have. The painkillers haven’t been working.”
“Well, have a rest for a while. If you feel better, go back to work in your own time; if not I suggest you go home early, drink plenty of fluids, and get some rest,” he then turned and left the room.
Kimberly had only just noticed that her headache had gone. Getting to her feet, she walked around the room a bit to check if she was still all right, and then decided to go back to work. Her first round that evening would be the private wards. She always enjoyed doing the rounds because she felt she was contributing to the patient’s welfare and because she met some genuinely interesting people.
Her first stop was Mr. Clarke who’d had a car accident and might never walk again. She entered his room to find he was still strapped upside down in a specially made bed. He’d just had a delicate operation, and had to be kept confined in this manner so that he couldn’t cause any damage to himself, while the healing process took effect.
“Evening, Mr. Clarke,” she said, after entering the room. “How are you tonight?”
“I feel like a bat,” he joked.
“Not to worry, Mr. Clarke. It won’t be for long,” she reassured him.
I wonder how well she gives head, he thought to himself.
“Mr. Clarke, you don’t have to insult me like that,” she replied.
“Insult you? I didn’t say a word,” replied Mr. Clarke.