Date: Mon, 25 Sep 2023 21:02:20 -0500 From: Krisje Mastres Subject: A Gentle Touch for my Patient (Chapter 2) A Gentle Touch for my Patient (Chapter 2-3) By Krisje Mastres Tags: Interracial/High School [This story is a work of fiction and contains details of an inappropriate nurse/patient romance including sexually explicit scenes involving a minor. This did not happen. Do not do this in real life if you are in a position of power over a vulnerable person.] (Gross out warning near the beginning. This is a story about nursing, and I don't hold back on the nasty details...) ********* Chapter 2 I couldn't sleep on the couch as hard as I tried, so I moved back to the bedroom, falling asleep listening to the gentle sound of rain. My first night back in a real bed all to myself was nice. Since I got kicked out, I'd been sleeping on friends' uncomfortable couches or even next to them, which got all kinds of awkward fast. I needed to make more money so I could get my own place. Even a total shithole would be better than living outside...or back at the home I grew up in for that matter. I laid on my side looking out the window. That boy out there seemed so lonely and hurt. A tear fell down my cheek. His own mother ditching him at his time of greatest need. I could relate. Maybe he had friends he could invite over for a while to make him feel better. Before I knew it, I had dozed off and woke up to the early light of dawn and sounds of tweeting birds. I decided I'd go and check on my patient first thing in the morning and then see what we could do for breakfast. I had just finished putting on a more casual outfit of a tank top and shorts instead of my scrubs and was scratching the patch of blonde stubble I was growing out on my chin when I heard one of the worst sounds a nurse can hear coming from the living room. No, it wasn't a code blue, fortunately, but it came close to that. It was full on retching. I hurried out. Calvin was sitting up in bed and had just barfed all over his woolen Patriots blanket. I ran over and put my hand on his sweaty shoulder to let him know I was there for him. He continued retching several more times, but nothing else came up. "We'll get you cleaned up," I said. "It's okay. It'll be okay." He began to sob and scream with vomit still on his cheek, squirming and kicking his legs around. His face contorted in obvious pain from him scrunching it with black and swollen eyes. One of his bandages had fallen off, revealing several exposed stitches in a line on his cheek. All the while, I held his shoulder. I could go for a textbook approach of cleaning up his mess and changing his bandages, but his emotional wounds were wide open and becoming necrotic. When he'd finally worn himself out, he stopped all of the sudden and spat several times into the pile he made. I pulled up the edge of his sheet that was going to need to be washed anyway and wiped his face clean. He was covered in sweat, and the room now smelled like vomit. I left him briefly to open the windows and turn on the fan, and he began to cry to himself again, this time low and defeated. "Calvin," I said, "we're going to get you cleaned up now. Everything will be all right." I grabbed the Patriots blanket with his splatter of vomit on it and went to remove it. "No! Nooo!" He shook his head weakly. "What's wrong?" "I ruined it! No! I ruined it! No!" He began to sob again. "My favorite..." "I'll clean it off for you." "S'autographed..." He sobbed, gesturing toward it with his face. Sure enough, a tag coming off of it was signed by one of the Patriots. It wasn't Peyton Manning, the only one I knew, but it had to be someone important. "I ruined it... Pa--my dad got that for me... Training camp..." "Oh..." I couldn't just put it in the washer and ruin the autographed tag. It'd have to come out slowly and by hand. But, seeing the pain he was in was too much for me. I had to do it. "I'll get it so clean you won't notice anything wrong. I promise." Promises to patients are something we're trained to never do lightly. But I had every intention of fulfilling it. He seemed to lighten up a bit more after I'd said that. It seemed he was starting to trust me. But that could be shattered in an instant. He sat up and got up off the bed on his own, leaning against it for support. I'd completely forgotten he was naked and jumped a bit in surprise. His monster was soft and flapped around as he limped. He sat down on the edge of the couch and leaned forward to drink from his huge mug of stale water from the night before without another word. He spat a loogie flecked with vomit into an empty bowl that was there before I'd arrived. I moved the fan closer to his hot and sweaty body, and he seemed to relax and close his eyes again. After stripping his bed, I took everything to the basement and put his covers in the washer. Then I went to the sink and washed off his blanket delicately with cold water. The large chunks came out easily but a big stain remained. Not knowing how to get rid of it without ruining the blanket, I hung it up on a clothing rack to let it dry. I'd have to discreetly look it up on my phone. "Bennnnnn!" Calvin called angrily from the top of the stairs. I walked over and saw him up there, wobbling and leaning against the door for support, his casted arms at his sides. "Don't puterrr in the washer!" "I'm not, your other bedding is in there." "Use baking soda and lemon juice." I walked up the steps to him. "Please be careful. You could fall and break more bones." His dick and extended sac from the heat looked even more massive on his small frame looking up from below. I'd go nude too if I had to contain something like that. He said, "Cool water. Baking soda lemon juice. Asked Alexa." His brown eyes reflected pain, and he had deep bags under them. "I'll get it clean for you, I promise. Are you hungry?" "Starving." I hoped he wasn't just going to vomit whatever he ate again. I walked to the fridge and opened it. "Did you eat something else after last night?" I asked, wondering what it could be that didn't agree with him. "Just water. I need foooooooood." He started walking toward me and then stumbled, falling forward. I caught him with my body, righting him to my feet, noticing the cast on his left arm had hit me. "Fuck! Shit!" "Your arm...?" I asked in a panic with my hand on his cast. My other was on the moist skin of his side, which gave me an awkward tingle. "No. No. It's fine. I'm just clumsy. I'm fucking clumsy. Fuck!" Despite all that, he started laughing. "Just a little tap. It don't hurt." He smiled at me, and it felt like he was gazing deeper into my eyes. We were standing very close together, and he was naked. It felt like a heat was rising between us that made my heart beat faster. I was blushing. I turned back to the fridge and asked what he wanted for breakfast. *** Chapter 3 We sat across from each other on the thin kitchen side table that jutted out from the wall. He'd asked me to make him a quiche and bacon, but I'd vetoed him to offer tomato soup and fruit. He obviously hated leaning forward and being fed like a baby and wanted another solution like putting the soup into his big mug and drinking it with a straw, but I was concerned about ruining it so he couldn't use it for water again afterwards. As I fed him in silence, he seemed to relax quite a bit. He took his prescribed meds. I hoped he'd keep those down too. "Sorry..." he said, slurring his speech like usual. "I smell so fucking bad." He was sniffling constantly and grimacing. He smelled like several days worth of sweat and vomit. I hadn't thought to give him a bath the night before, but it might literally have been days. It didn't seem like he was trying to throw shade on me for not doing my job, but I still felt bad to have neglected something he cared about. "We'll see if you can keep your food down for now, and then I'll change your bandages and give you a bath." "Errr... Might be able to reach the nozzle with my elbow." He groaned and scrunched up his face, probably realizing for himself he still wouldn't be able to use soap. Not to mention his casts shouldn't get wet. "I'm so nasty and gross. And you have to smell me all day... Fuck me... I haaaaate sweating..." "All part of the job. I'd eat your shit if I got paid for it at this point," I said, returning the spoon to the empty bowl. "Tch! Hahahaha!" He almost gagged. It was great to see him smile, even if for a moment. "I'd pay you NOT to do something that nasty." He feebly kicked me under the table, still giggling. "I do have to shit," he groaned playfully. "Don't eat it, you perv! Haha! .....It can...it can wait until my bath..." He looked down suddenly, obviously blushing. It had probably just dawned on him that I'd be wiping his ass and cleaning him when he was, as he put it, nasty and gross. I wouldn't want to be the one on his side of the table, even with a nurse I liked. I took a deep breath and decided to reassure him professionally. "Hey, Calvin. Real talk. I'm getting paid to help you. This morning didn't even faze me. I promise I'll make it as comfortable and discreet as possible." "I...I know... I hate that I'm so gross... I wanna be a good patient so you keep working here..." "Why wouldn't I? I expected worse when I answered the ad. Made it sound like you were dying." "I almost did...almost did... I got thrown from the car... I was conscious the whole time..." "Oh my God!" I said, looking him square in the eye. He completely changed the subject. "But Ben. Ben, my ma said whoever answered would leave after their first check." "She said that?" "This is the worst job in the world for nurses, she said." Nah, I thought. Not even close. But I didn't feel that was appropriate to refute. This was a lonely, injured boy concerned that he was getting to know a caretaker who was about to get fed up with him and bounce. I wanted to just hug him and tell him I'd stay until he was healthy, but truth be told, that sort of promise could be even harder to keep than cleaning off his blanket depending on the circumstances. The real people who should be hugging and comforting him had ditched him for some unknown reason. They didn't want to deal with the burden he was being. And it made me mad. I decided to take a risk and tell him about my personal life, something he may reveal to his mom or dad, who would in turn fire me. I cleared my throat. "Look...yesterday morning, when I answered your mom's ad, I was homeless." "Oh..." He looked down at the table uncomfortably. "Yeah... I'm only 18. I got in a fight with my parents, and let's just say it was mutual. They're both alcoholics. My dad is a malignant narcissist who puts me down constantly. My mom goes along with him 100% of the time. I had to get away." He seemed to not only know what I was talking about but was lightly nodding along, and I felt a chill from it and a tear rise to my eye. He listened intently as I continued. "I needed any nursing job I could get, no matter how gross. I need to save my money to get food to eat and a place to live, and then I can start worrying about how much I like my job and going back to college." "18. 18. I thought you were 23...20...20 something... You're good at your job." He smiled, looking into my eyes and gave me butterflies in my stomach. Did I really look that old? Must be the stubble on my chin I was growing out. He said, "You're in college and not high school at 18?" "Already graduated high school and the first part of college. I want to become a doctor." "That's cool..." He looked all around, deep in thought and shifted around. "I wanna go into math. I like math. Boring, right?" "No, math is really interesting. Serious. I was going to take Calculus III and Statistics this semester." "That's...that's really cool...you're...you're really cool." He was leaning forward toward me off the chair. I could see the curve of his round ass on the seat in the corner of my vision and smiled. This guy was so adorable. I looked back into his eyes, and he had an obvious blush on his face. My dick wasn't hard, but I felt a tingling down there and a bit of wetness at the head. I kept smiling at him, feeling some of the same heat we'd felt standing by the fridge. I'd only been into girls before and never imagined feeling this way about a guy, even one so cute. Still blushing, he smiled at me lightly with his eyes closed, lips quivering. He seemed to bashfully turn his face away to show me his smooth cheek, the one I'd kissed the night before. Was he offering it to me? I felt the heat continue to rise little by little. I was getting a bit hard after all, and for a guy. He was cute and naked and showing interest in me. I'd never even been on a date before and didn't know how any of this work. I was tapping my foot anxiously under the table. Deep breaths. Think things over a bit, I told myself. I felt pulled back to reality. I could lose my job and chances of becoming a doctor if I got involved with a patient. I just needed to get back under control. I put my hand on the bowl between his casts. "Are you done eating?" I realized after speaking that was a silly question. It was empty with the spoon in it that I'd put there. "Not yet. Can I get some dessert?" He lifted up his casted arms and tried to pincer my arm between them, but ended up tapping them together. "Ha-ha-ha-owwww," he winced. "Careful," I said. "Don't hurt yourself." "I overextended again. You make me do that." I grabbed both his casts like I was holding his hands, and he grinned deeply. He once again turned his head up and to the side as though offering me his cheek. He had leaned forward a bit as well. I trembled and had to catch my breath. Could this really be happening with a guy? I wanted so badly to lean forward and taste his bare cheek. This guy with the cutest eyes. His weird but endearing style of speech. And he was naked in front of me, inviting me to kiss him. Time seemed to stop between us until I realized that I was also blushing profusely. Just one kiss, I thought. It was only a simple kiss like I had already done the night before. I moved my hands up past his elbows and held him where he could feel it, seeing the profile of his smile curl deeper. His pulse was also quick, and his breathing was a bit labored. His face was still there being offered to me. I lightly massaged his biceps as I wet my lips with my tongue, then I brought them forward, landing right on his adorable cheek. He immediately made a pleased squeal and squirmed all around. His skin tasted like stale vomit. I remembered I had wiped that spot clean earlier. Still didn't want to spit it out. To me, it was the best thing I had tasted in a long time and filled me with a warmness to my core. I wanted to taste more of him. Much more. I let my lips linger, and he moved his cheek forward back into them, making me kiss him again. I pulled back. He was trembling and looking at me in a bashful way. He whispered uncharactistically clearly, "That's my favorite kind of dessert." I stood up, grinning profusely, unable to stop grinning to make a quip back to him. My face was hot, and my teeth were lightly clattering. My dick had hardened in my shorts. This was so unprofessional. Unethical. Probably immoral. But I liked it so much. I picked up his dishes and the plates for the fruit and began to wash them all immediately as I calmed down. He sat there in silence, doing the same. I could tell he was watching me and wished I'd showered in the morning or put on something better than a tank top and shorts. No, what a silly thing to think when he was over there naked. My dick jumped every time I remembered that part, wondering if he was also getting hard and letting the open air caress it under the table. I let myself calm down while doing the dishes until that part also quieted itself. I still had to do my job and be professional. We still needed to wait a bit for the sponge bath to see if his vomiting episode was going to repeat itself. "Hey," I said to Calvin, who remained seated. "I'm going to try to get the stain out of your blanket now. Can you stay put and not do anything reckless?" "Yeah. Yeah. Do I stress you out?" "A little." I wanted to add, "in a good way," but didn't have the balls. He nodded and slowly got up from the chair with a grunt, leaning on the thin side table for support. After stretching as much as he could given his limited mobility, he started limping back to the living room. I offered him my shoulder for support, the feelings from earlier coming back to give me butterflies from touching his soft skin. I lowered him down to the couch. As I did so and brought my shoulder back, he was clearly blushing again, which got me blushing again. He moved into an awkward position with both his knees bent leaning against the armrest, possibly to hide a growing boner behind them. His dark round butt was pointing right at me. Soft squeezable... Deep breaths. He noticed what I was looking at and bashfully tried to move one of his casts to block my view. I went to go get him a wastebasket to use in an emergency if he had to vomit again and found that he'd moved to a cross-legged position where his goods were blocked by his casts, but was trembling all over expectantly. I was going to have to give him a full body sponge bath soon. I smiled at him again and went down to the basement. Baking soda and vinegar. Or lemon juice rather. It was lemon juice. I had to be professional, or I'd quickly find myself back on the streets. I was a nurse, and he was my patient. ****