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As a nurse, I have the perfect job. I love helping people, and with all due modesty, I’m pretty good at it. Once in awhile, however, I can’t help but indulge an infatuation I have with the sexual awakening that occurs during young adulthood. I’m hesitant to admit it, but at some level these gut-based feelings probably have something to do with why I ended up in this job.
An example of this little weakness surfaced with our new broken leg patent. He was eighteen, blond and had a rock solid physique that was solidifying into manhood. His blue eyes were piercing but still belied the innocence of a child. His leg had been broken up near the hip in a skiing accident, and he was destined to spend the next two months in traction.
He was pretty sore and doped up for the first few days, but now he was feeling better and began to joke around with me. He told me he loved sports, movies and music. Now that he was back among the living, I had a pretty good guess what else was on his mind. I decided to do a little experiment. That night, just after lights out, I slid his box of tissues to the edge of the nightstand — well beyond reach.
“How are you feeling today,” I asked the next morning.
“Fine,” he said, a bit sheepishly.
After I had helped him go to the bathroom and he had eaten breakfast it was time for his daily bath; and to learn the results of my little experiment. I prepared some soapy water, removed the top of his hospital gown, and began to sponge his washboard stomach and chest.
“Humm,” I said, “It looks like there’s some kind of crusty stuff here on your stomach.”
I paused for a moment, appearing to contemplate this development and quietly asked, “Have you been masturbating, Hon?”
The deep crimson blush that spread from his face to his chest was irrefutable evidence that my little theory was correct.
“You know it’s perfectly OK for you to do that. Masturbation is a very important part of life for boys your age. I hope you enjoyed it.”
I was trying to put him at ease because he no doubt thought I was going to scold him and probably tell his parents.
“Yah, casino şirketleri I guess I did.”
“How many times did you squirt?”
If he wasn’t embarrassed enough already, my probing for the specifics did the trick.
“I don’t know,” he mumbled and looked off in the other direction. He was obviously trying to avoid my scrutiny, but it wasn’t going to work.
“Sure you do,” I countered, “just go back in your mind.”
Obediently he closed his eyes, and I could see him reliving the experience.
“Six I think…and then a little one that kind of dribbled down my hand at the end.”
“Wow, that’s a lot. Do you usually do it that many times?”
“No Ma’am. But it was so long since the last time, and I got pretty excited just before it happened.”
“How far did the strongest one go?”
“About here,” he said, pointing to his right nipple.
“What did you do then?”
“Well, I couldn’t reach the Kleenex, so I just kind of spread it around, hoping it would dry and that nobody would notice. I guess it didn’t work too well.”
“Oh, Hon, you don’t need to be ashamed of what you did, I’m just glad you enjoyed it.”
“Tell me what you were thinking about while you were doing it.”
“Oh Ma’am I can’t talk about stuff like that with you.” “Sure you can. I’m your friend and I want to do all I can to help. Please, tell me.”
“Well, I was worried about getting caught, but mostly I guess I was thinking about doing it while someone watched.”
“I see… was that someone me perhaps?”
Another deep blush.
“Do you often think about masturbating for someone when you play with yourself?”
“Yes Ma’am. I guess I do.”
“I see. Well, I doubt if you’re the first boy to have those fantasies. I’m going to tell you something very important, and I want you to listen carefully, OK? If you’re like almost every other male on the planet, you think your penis is too small. Am I right?”
Yet another one.
“Well I don’t ever want you to feel embarrassed or inadequate about your penis — especially with a girl. Most girls don’t care about size, just whether or not you’re casino firmaları a nice boy. And besides, smaller ones get much bigger when they’re aroused so they all end up being plenty big enough. Do you believe what I’m saying?”
“I guess so Ma’am,” he said unconvincingly.
Just then I noticed a prominent budge in his hospital tie pants. All this talk was obviously getting him turn on.
“Well, it looks like we have an opportunity to find out,” I said, as I gave the very tip of his erection a little squeeze for emphasis.
“Let’s just slip these underpants off and see what we have.”
I untied his pants and folded them back very slowly to reveal his healthy young penis standing at attention. It was surrounded by a bed of light blond hair and throbbed up and down with the beating of his heart.
“Just look at how beautiful you are! Have you showed this to any girls yet?”
“Well I’m very honored to be the first. You know what? I have a wonderful idea…why don’t you let me help you live out that little fantasy of yours?”
“Oh Ma’am, I couldn’t. Not here.”
“Sure you can.”
I slowly ran my fingertips up his inner thighs, making just a hint of contact with the sides of his scrotum before moving to his now very hard nipples and back down to where his pubic hair began. I teased this area just a bit with my fingernails. There was no longer any doubt about the completeness of his erection. I was pretty sure his penis had never been harder.
“Come on Hon, show me how you do it.”
I gently positioned the fingers of his right hand around his penis and moved them up and down a few times, priming him to continue. We both knew there was no stopping now. I certainly wasn’t backing down, and more importantly, the desire that wracked his hormone-ravaged body was no match for the embarrassment he was feeling. He took over, no doubt employing the same technique he had used during the night.
“Do you ever caress your testicles while you’re masturbating?” I asked. I wasn’t really looking for an answer; and I began to gently fondle his fuzzy young scrotum. His eyes were güvenilir casino closed and I knew he was in heaven. After a while, I guided his other hand down there and helped him do it for himself.
His breathing was getting heavier, his strokes were getting faster and I was worried that he was about to come, but I still had one little trick up my sleeve. There was a hard plastic nozzle from an old-fashioned enema can we still use once in awhile in my uniform pocket. I keep it there for just such occasions. I placed a dab of K-Y jelly on the tip and pressed it firmly against the center of his pink, puckered anus. Considering what he was doing it was tight as a drum, but I managed to slip it inside.
“Oh Honey, how proud you should be! Just look at your beautiful, hard manhood, unabashedly on display for me and all the world to admire! I love watching you rub it. Make yourself come Honey…come, come come for me!
He was feverously pumping away now, and I was twisting and the nozzle and pushing it in an out, matching his every stroke. He was bathed in sweat and his face was contorted in an incredible grimace when a sky-high stream of watery semen shot out and landed on his face. A second one was less forceful but still made it to the middle of his chest. And then it was over. The last bit of almost clear liquid flowed gently from his opening and onto his still pumping fingers. I could tell by its thin consistency and lack of color that the semen I was admiring had been produced by his body just minutes ago. He could not have ejaculated one more drop.
“Oh wow, Ma’am. That was the best one I’ve ever had!”
“I suspected it would be, Hon. How I loved watching your semen spray up so far and high. It’s probably the first real orgasm you’ve had. But now you can do it again whenever you want. Just think about this experience when you do it by yourself.”
I cleaned him up with a washcloth and gave him a tender kiss on the forehead. The smell of his semen was still lingering there.
“Thank you for letting me be a part of this Hon. And I want you to do it again whenever you want. Don’t you even think about being embarrassed about it because it’s an important part being a normal, healthy teenager. I’ll just put these where you can reach them next time,” and I slid the box of tissues to his end of the nightstand.
“But you might want to know, I’ll be here again in the morning.”
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