Playtime

Grasping the egg between my thumb and first two fingers, I tapped it lightly on the kitchen platform. A crack formed along its circumference. I placed my two thumbs on the dent and pulled apart, dropping the contents into a cup. Next, I chopped onions and grated cheese before adding them all to the cup along with a pinch of salt and a dash of chilly. Then, I battered the mixture.

Two pans were already heating upon different ports of the gas burner. I poured a little oil in each of them, enjoying the hissing sound as the liquid touched heated metal. I looked at the clock. I hardly had any time left. I loved the pressure. It acted on me like adrenaline. With a smile, I surveyed my surroundings. This was my kingdom, and I was its queen.

At exactly 07:00 am, I walked into the living room, humming a tune and balancing two plates, a bowl and a jug of milk.

“Good morning, mom!” Teenage girls’ voices chorused.

“Good morning, Sam,” greeted my husband, momentarily raising his head from the newspaper, before returning back to it again.

“Good morning, darlings.” I replied, my face beaming with joy. I put down the bowl and the jug before my older daughter Catherine.

“Don’t diet too much sweetheart. Boys love us curvy,” I whispered into her ears.

“Mom!” She burst out laughing.

“Omelette for my angel, just the way she loves it. Well done with cheese, onions and chillies.” I stroked my younger daughter Stephanie's curls and placed the plate in front of her. She rewarded me with a dazzling smile.

“And you, Sir? Will you be kind enough to put your paper down and enjoy the breakfast your wife has prepared with so much love?” My attentions were focussed on Jim, my husband of eighteen years and Cathy and Steph’s father.

“Sorry, honey.” He folded the paper and put it down. The girls exchanged smiles. They both knew what would happen. I bend to lay down Jim’s plate of bacon and fried eggs. I was wrapped in my bathrobe and my shoulder-length, blonde hair was still wet. He ran his fingers through them, planted a tender kiss on my cheek, and murmured something into my ear.

“You look lovely and smell so sweet. I love you.” Those were the golden words he had muttered into my ears every morning of the glorious eighteen years we had spent as man and wife. I never tired of hearing them and I knew that I never would, neither now, nor in the distant future.

Like on any other day, I blushed like a bride and rewarded him with a hurried peck, embarrassed that the girls were looking. It was my favorite part of the morning. My heart brimming with joy, I scampered back to the kitchen to fetch a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice. I returned just in time to hear Jim speak.

“Tim Phelps has hurt himself.”

“Oh no!“ Cathy looked aghast.

“He is so cute!” whispered Stephanie, a wistful expression on her face.

I cleared my throat. “Guys! Please concentrate on eating please. I will not allow Mr. Godforsaken Phelps or whatever his stupid name is be a spoilsport at my family's meals.”

“He plays basketball, Mom. Just turned eighteen and already a star,” Catherine defended the famous man. She did not disguise her annoyance at my uncharitable utterance of his name.

“Which hospital did they take him to?” It was Stephanie. I squirmed at her forlorn expression.

“The Blue …” Seeing the glare on my face, Jim's jaw fell open and he stopped halfway. They finished the rest of their breakfast in peace and left for the day. Jim would drop the girls at school on the way to his office. Later, I would pick them up.

I glanced at the clock and jabbed a number on my phone, my fingers trembling with expectation.

“Hi! It’s me, Samantha,” I said to the familiar voice that answered.

“How’re you Sam?”

“Do you know Tim Phelps?”

A pause. I thought she had hung up, though I bloody well knew that she wouldn’t.

“Hello!” I voiced my irritation.

“You mean the basketball star.” I could hear her swallow.

“Yes.”

“Why are you asking?”

“Don’t you know?”

“You’re fucking crazy, Sam. Reporters and guards are crawling all over the place. I can’t do it. I really can’t.”

“I’ll meet you in an hour,” I said and hung up the phone.

Half an hour later, I was racing down toward the Blue Cross Hospital in the Chevy my husband had gifted me on my fortieth birthday. My skin tingled with expectations, my heart pounded against my chest and I could feel the moistness between my thighs.

I saw Melanie wait for me dutifully at the staff entrance. She shook her head when she caught sight of my car. Gracefully, I stepped out and slinging a satchel across my shoulder, sashayed across to her in a tight-fitting, ankle-length, full-sleeved, brown dress. I had tied my blonde hair in a bun.

“Hi, Melanie,” cooed my honeydew voice.

She glared, turned and started to walk at a brisk pace. I followed her in hot pursuit. She stopped in front of a closed room and looked up and down the empty corridor. Satisfied that we were alone, she grabbed my arm, kicked the door open and stumbled into the room, pulling me behind her. She locked the door and pushed me against the wall.

She pressed her lips to mine with want. Our tongues entangled. She was much stronger and taller than me and she had her way; not that I minded. I was more than enamored of her sensuous face, full lips and silky, black hair. She tugged at my waist belt and helped me take off my dress. Inside, there was not a single strand of thread on my body and she gasped at the sight of my naked milky white skin.

Her hands grasped handfuls of my ample tits, while I unbuttoned her stiff white nurse uniform. I slipped it off her arms and attacked her bra, revealing her bountiful breasts. She enveloped me in my arms and I melted in her embrace, our boobs crushing against each other. Holding my hand, she led me to the bed in the center of the room. It was payment time.

Melanie ravished my soft body, pleasuring every millimeter of me with her mouth and fingers. We nibbled each other’s clits and lapped each other’s pussies.We crossed our legs and rubbed our sexes, our bodies writhing under the throes of one orgasm after another. I drenched her face with cum while she rewarded me with her nectar. . Even after our lovemaking was over, she clung to me with desperation. I planted soft kisses on her long neck; caressed her hair. She seemed reluctant to let me go, but I had to.

She saw me slip into the sexy, thigh-length, nurse uniform I had brought in the satchel. No bra or underwear.

“I love you, Sam,” she groaned, when I pirouetted before her.

I crawled on to the bed again and allowed her to take me in her arms. She thrust her tongue inside my mouth and dipped a finger in my pussy, getting me all sloppy and horny; the perfect condition for me to be in before I faced my next lover.

It was through my husband that I had first met Melanie. She was attractive, passionate and vivacious and I enjoyed her company. The day I came to know how well connected she was at the Royal Blue Cross Hospital, I surrendered to her on my marital bed. She showed me a part of myself I didn’t know existed.

With me in tow Melanie found her way to the private ward of Tim Phelps. I caught the guard outside leering at my ass and rewarded him with a wink. He was still gaping at me when I bent before his eyes and lifted the hem of my dress. He received an unobstructed view of my asscheeks and glistening slit. Leaving him bewildered, I followed Melanie into the ward.

“Mr. Phelps, meet Ginger. The regular nurse is absent today. In her place, Ginger will give you your sponge bath.” Melanie pushed me forward.

“Good morning, Mr. Phelps. I am such a big fan of yours,” I batted my eyelashes, threw my 'come, fuck me' look and turned on my earnest, girly voice. He would not know that I had heard his name only that morning.

His Greek God looks were not new as I had seen him on TV and in magazines. But in real life he looked even more dishy, especially with his morning stubble. With pleasure I saw his eyes devour my curves under the tight-fitting dress. Before entering, I had unfastened the top two buttons of my blouse. When his eyes settled upon my deep cleavage, I felt my sex tingle with expectation.

Melanie walked out of the room. “Slut,” she muttered, before slamming the door.

“Can I start, Mr. Phelps?” I tinged my voice with awe. My body language displayed unabashed admiration. It would lead him to recklessness, which is what I wanted. His blue eyes and thick, black hair twittered my heart and I slipped into my 'cockteaser' role with effortless ease. Before leaving home, I had quickly visited some shady sites on the net. Reading about his salacious sexploits had made my pussy twitch with want.

“Huh.” He grunted, lust written all over his handsome face. There was not a single patient that Melanie had helped me service who had not succumbed to my charms. There was no reason why Phelps would be different. Though on the wrong side of forty, my baby doll face, voluptuous curves and blonde hair would turn male and female heads alike, wherever I went.

“Thanks. Can you turn over on your right side please? I need to slide this waterproof pad under you to protect the bed."

Melanie had briefed me on his ankle injury, and I knew what all he could do.

I slid the pad under him, and then covered him with just the sheet, leaving his gown on for now. Next, I drew some water and set the basin on the table next to the towels, soap, and two washcloths.

I wrung the rag out and applied some soap to it. Gently, I placed it on his cheek.

“I hope this isn’t too hot?” I enquired.

“It’s just perfect. But normally the other nurse only washes the areas I can’t reach.”

“Don’t worry, Mr. Phelps. Ginger is different. You just relax.” Just for a moment I licked my lips with my tongue and his jaw fell open. I suppressed my giggle and resisted a strong urge to French kiss him.

I washed his face, neck and arms and then rinsed him off with the other cloth. All along, he never took his eyes off me. Every now and then I would bend and give him a peek at my deep cleavage and his cock would stir.

I dried him gently with the towel and removed his gown so that he was only covered with the sheet.

I traced a finger on his cheek. "You need a shave. I could help." There was a 'Take me, I'm all yours' appearance on my face. Sensing his virility, I was no longer sure whether that expression was natural or contrived.

His eyes pointed to the steel cupboard in the corner. I flounced across to it, wriggling my bum, knowing that his eyes were pasted upon them. Pretending not to hear his lustful sigh, I extracted his shaving kit, scurried across to the door, locked it and returned by his side.

I sprayed the foam on my hands and applied it on his cheek. I knew that more than half the female population of the country would be more than willing to switch positions with me. My womanhood throbbed with desire and I could barely manage to stay on my feet. His hand lay on his side. I lifted it and perched my ass on the same space. The hem of my short skirt had hiked up and I placed his hand on my bare thigh as if there was no other place to put it.

Totally ignoring his bewilderment, I inclined upon him and started to shave his face. My boobs were pressed on his chest and my mouth was just inches from his lips. He could feel my hot breath. I felt his fingers strum my inner thighs, making my pussy ache with need. I took the liberty of caressing his cheeks and running my fingers through his hair. His gorgeous looks made my heart twitter and flutter.

“I will remove this sheet now, Mr. Phelps.”

Before he could protest, I whisked it off him. I looked at his entire body from head to toe with awe. He was all muscles, hard and manly. His broad chest tapered to a V at his waist. But what took my breath away was what had brought me there in the first case; his phallus.

My love affair with male genitalia had started from my adolescence. I grew up and trained to become a nurse because my caring and friendly nature suited that profession well. A chance fling with a dirty old male patient made me aware how close my work had brought me to something I craved so much. I had hardly embarked on the fairytale realization of all my raunchy dreams, when I fell in love with Jim Forrester. Entirely by my own free will, I gave up my job and became his wife, not realizing that a tiger( or should I say tigress) can never change its spots.

I became a dutiful wife and a doting mother, a distant cry from my lascivious past; my lingering desire for cock buried under the burden of responsibilities. But when I met Melanie, the molten lava simmering inside the depths of my body erupted with a vengeance. I honed my old craft and returned to my cock hunting ways.

Using Melanie, I became nurse Ginger and crawled into the beds of so many male patients, that I had even lost count. The story would be the same every time. The regular nurse was away and I would stand in. She used her contacts and I suspect her amazing skills in bed to facilitate my unhindered access to fresh cock.

Thanks to her efforts I was able to do what I sincerely believed God had sent me to earth for; outside my home, where I was no longer a wife or a mother, I became slutty nurse Ginger giving relief to distressed males.

I had seen many a cock in my lifetime, but Phelps’ was extraordinary. Though flaccid, it was bigger than any I'd ever seen before. My flesh twitched in anticipation at how this uncircumcised beauty would feel in my mouth; how I would twirl the slippery foreskin on my silky tongue.

I looked into his eyes and loved his snooty confidence. He was not embarrassed at all by his nakedness, and I suspected he knew that my pussy was soaking wet. My scent was all over the room and he would have to be mentally retarded to not sniff it.

With trembling hands I soaped the cloth and washed his hairy chest, his nipples hardening under my touch.

"Are you okay, Mr. Phelps?"

“Yeah. Your fingers are magic,” he murmured.

“Ginger, please call me Tim. Mr. Phelps sounds too formal.”

“Ok, Mr. Phelps…eh sorry, Tim.”

He laughed heartily.

I gave him that adoring smile, displaying my perfect, pearly white teeth. After doing his chest, abdomen, and back, I put a fresh gown on him, making sure it covered just the upper torso, and then propped him up on some pillows for comfort. Following that, I swallowed hard and began to wash his genitalia, gently.

I could hear him suck in a deep breath. Under the ministrations of my soft hands on his balls, his cock began to stiffen.
I ignored his rising manhood and continued to wash him.

"Just relax Tim. It won’t take long."

When I wrapped the cloth around his shaft, he gasped, and said, "Jesus ! That feels so good."

As his cock hardened in my hands, the undisciplined flesh between my legs quivered with want. With trembling hands, I grasped the shaft, and began pumping it slowly.

I blinked at him innocently and purred, " You're so tense. Thought I would help you relax a bit."

I peeled down the foreskin and gently sponged the base of the head.

He rolled his eyes and said, "Fuck! Baby, but that feels so good."

My pussy was drenched, tingling with desire.

“You want me, don’t you?” he asked giving me 'I know you’re a slut' stare.

I responded with a 'gushing puppy' look. My face blushed as if I were too shy to say yes.

"Strip!" he ordered, breathing heavily.

I pulled the white tunic dress off my head and stood before him in all my naked glory. I raised one leg on the bed and rewarded him with a tantalizing glimpse of my shaved, wet pussy.

“Like that, baby?” I pointed to my pink nether lips, swollen with desire.

“Off course!” He hissed, grabbing my left tit. He pulled me into his brawny arms and clamped his lips around mine. We kissed like first time teenagers.

"You're such a sexy babe. How does your boyfriend let you out of sight," he hissed into my ears. I could feel him palm my clit. I groaned with delight. I clutched his cock and pumped it. Boyfriend! I loved that. What would he think if he knew I had daughters only slightly younger than him?

"Can't wait to get into you, baby!" He rasped.

“Sorry, baby. You can't"

"What the fuck do you mean?"

Using supreme willpower I released myself from his clutches.

"I don't fuck,” I said patting my womanhood.

“But you’re leaking like a tap.” He plunged a finger inside my pussy, making me squirm.

“I know. But I play by rules sweetheart. I only suck.” I straddled his chest, with my face toward his swollen monster. I raised my ass and positioned it conveniently in front of his eyes. He could smell my sex and get an unrestricted view of my wet slit and puckered hole. I buried him inside my warm throat and closed my eyes with pleasure when I felt his tongue on my clit.

XXX

“Wait for me, Jim!” I gargled into my phone. I had just emerged from Tim Phelps’s room. The stud's tool had given me a sore throat. Knowing that voice, Jim didn't ask any questions. This time I ignored the guard.

I walked down the long corridor, entered the elevator and jabbed the button. When it stopped, I hobbled out and managed to wobble up to a door marked “Dr. Jim Forrester, Head of Neurosurgery.” I pushed it open.

Jim’s beautiful black secretary and assistant guarded the reception.

“Melanie, we’re not to be disturbed,” I muttered incoherently.

“What’s in your mouth?” She asked.

Ignoring her, I entered Jim’s room. He was waiting on his chair, his arousal exposed. Straddling him, I lifted the hem of my nurse uniform and eased back on to his waiting member.

“Samantha, darling…you’re so wet,” he groaned.

I only responded by riding him with an ecstatic expression on my face. He pulled out my uniform and grabbed my tits. He French kissed me and I poured Phelps’s hot semen which I had been holding all along in my mouth into his. We both slurped and swallowed the tasty drink.

“Whose?” he asked.

“Tim Phelps.”

His eyes widened out with disbelief.

“You’re such a slut, Nurse Ginger. Papa loves your hot pussy, you bad girl.” He screamed.

I loved that. I was no longer his angel wife Samantha, but his fantasy; slutty nurse Ginger. His manhood, hard like a nail and fat like a beer can, stretched and filled my greedy folds. My pelvis moved of its own accord; rising till only his crown remained inside me, before settling down on it again.

“Fuck me, Dr. Forrester…” I screamed, as my body shuddered to an explosive climax.

He withdrew with urgency. I could barely get in position before bellowing like a bull, he spattered my face and breasts with sharp jets of his hot jism.

“All yours, Mel,” he said.

We both knew that she had entered the room when we had started to fuck..

“I have to rush to a surgery,” he said, watching Mel lick his sperm from my breasts.

“And next time, before you allow your girlfriend to lay her hand on a celebrity, you better have my permission, Mel,” he warned, before stomping out.

My throaty laughter filled the room.

Word Count: 3488