Jay Friday
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A Hospital Stay [Part 5]
🕑 Added 2025-02-23 17:00:09 +0000 UTCAuthor's Note: While this is the continuation of a series, it’s also my first sponsored story! A big thank you to Kurt Mueller for sponsoring this chapter. It does feature a little more intense femdom than the prior chapters, which may not be everybody’s cup of tea.
Well, there was one thing about being in the hospital – I got a lot of time alone with my thoughts.
I was grappling with a complicated mix of emotions.
She certainly seemed to want…revenge. Or something. That made me feel guilty.
She also seemed to want to toy with me, somehow. To feel superior. And that made me feel angry.
But I didn’t really understand what Natalie was thinking. I got the sense that she was conflicted, somehow. She’d almost seemed to regret our time together – or maybe to regret how things had turned out? But she clearly didn’t want to talk about it with me.
And that brought me to the last feeling: embarrassment. it had been really hot. Too hot for me to handle, as she’d made me acknowledge.
And then there was the burning question: why was I cumming so fast?
I needed some advice, I decided. But none of my usual options made sense; typically I brought general problems to my dad, and women problems to some of my buddies. Neither seemed like the right choice here.
Frankly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about this with anyone.
—
So when Denise came bustling into the room the next morning on her usual rounds, I was still conflicted.
“Hi Denise.” I gave her an absentminded smile, looking at her as she moved over to the cabinets, doing her routine checks. She really did fill out those scrubs nicely – the soft, roundness of her butt out from her waist, the way I could see the curve of her chest even from behind her…
She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at me too. “Hi, big guy. How’re the stab wounds?”
I moved my eyes up to hers. “Well, they’re annoying and painful, but there aren’t any new ones, so I’m grateful for that. How’s the terrible ex-husband?”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Exactly as you said. Annoying, painful, but it’s still just the same shitty one I’ve had for a while now, so at least that’s something. I like your odds of making a full recovery from the stab wounds better, though.”
I laughed at that, and she smiled. “Speaking of which…how’d wound care go yesterday with Natalie?”
“Why…more break room gossip?” I asked the question cautiously, imagining all the things Natalie might’ve said to other people about our latest encounter.
“No, actually. She’s been pretty quiet. Unusual for her. It made me wonder. Think you’ll…rekindle things with her?” Denise was checking supplies, looking at my chart, making a few notes.
“Oh, I dunno,” I said, noncommittally. I didn’t know what to make of Natalie’s silence. And I didn’t want to talk to Denise about my dating life.
“Well, you’re young. You’ll figure it out. Or maybe you won’t and you’ll end up with Mia…or maybe that young woman who was by to visit you the other day…Kate?”
I blushed. Kate hadn’t seemed especially impressed by my performance, and Mia and I hadn’t actually talked much at all. “Uh, yeah, maybe.”
She shook her head, smiling at my obvious discomfort. “Look, if none of them are right, they’re not right. Believe me when I say you don’t want to end up with the wrong person. You’ll find someone else. You’ve got plenty of time.”
“Um, thanks. Uh, how’s your dating life going, Denise? Any prospects?” I was desperate for a subject change, and I was genuinely curious, now that I thought of it.
She sighed dramatically, clearly happy to talk about this. "Oh, I try now and then. But I'll be honest, it's discouraging. Once you reach my age, men only come in three flavors." She held up a hand with a flourish, and began ticking them off on fingers.
"First, some are married." She frowned, obviously recalling that she used to be in that camp. “Which somehow doesn’t stop them from trying to date me. You’d think it would.”
I just nodded sympathetically.
"Second, there are the ones who spent all of their twenties and thirties sleeping around, and are doing that in their forties, too. Just looking for a quick hookup. That’s fine for younger men, I suppose, but if you’re forty-five and doing that, it’s..." she wrinkled her nose distastefully, "...juvenile."
I nodded again, although it made me feel a little juvenile.
"And finally, some are just, well...unattractive. I don't just mean physically; of course there's some of that. But beyond that. Like, these men just never learned to be a full adult on their own, so they're definitely not ready to be a full adult with someone else. They're terrible with their money, or they've got a terrible social life. Or they're a terrible partner. It's no fun to date, let me tell you." She made a sticking-out-her-tongue gagging face.
I laughed, glad to have redirected her to this topic for the moment. "You've encountered a lot of that third category, it sounds like."
She nodded, vehemently, obviously emboldened by my laughter, and ran a hand through her hair in exasperation. "God, you have no idea. Can you imagine how depressing it is to go back to a guy's place after a date and realize they don't ever fold their laundry? That they don't even have a headboard on their bed? That they've got one towel in their bathroom -- the same towel they use to dry their balls off after they shower? Why would I spend the night? You're a fifty year old investment manager, Rick. We both have mortgages. You attend corporate board meetings. You have a well-funded retirement account. Why don’t you fucking spring for a second towel."
I was laughing louder now. "Okay, this is starting to sound pretty specific. I mean, this hypothetical Rick might take issue with--"
But she was on a roll, continuing. "And that's not even getting to their maturity in the bedroom. Like, do guys just turn forty and become premature ejaculators? What about my needs?"
I abruptly lapsed into silence, reddening.
Denise glanced at me, realizing I had stopped laughing. "Sorry, James. That was crass. I'm...well, I'm feeling like all the good men are taken, or that I'm not...pretty enough, anymore, to attract them. But my old lady dating problems are probably gross to you. Let me just wrap up a few things and I’ll get out of your way." She sounded mortified; she clearly thought she had crossed a line. She busied herself around the room in silence.
"N-no, no, it’s not gross. And you're plenty pretty, Denise. It’s just that, uh…" I managed to get out. I could see the embarrassment on her face too, though, and I felt horribly guilty about that. She had been a great nurse, so far. I didn't want her to think I thought she was gross. Her misinterpretation of my discomfort only deepened the embarrassment I was feeling.
She was friendly. Liked me. Maybe she could help?
So after a long, pregnant pause, I continued. “...I’ve actually been having, um…some…of that kind of problem myself, recently.”
"Oh. Gotcha," Denise said in a quiet, contrite voice, realization obviously dawning on her.
I knew my face was probably bright red. I was staring down at my sheets, avoiding eye contact. Silence stretched out in the room.
"Well, I’m sorry about that, James. Do you, um, want to talk about it?" Denise asked the question kindly.
“Uh…sure…” But now that I’d broached the topic, I wasn’t exactly sure how to proceed.
Denise seemed willing to take the lead. She walked over and closed the door to the room, then sat down on the edge of the bed. “So it’s a problem with how fast you…y’know…”
I nodded, still staring at the sheets, mutely.
She made a small sound of realization. “Ah. So the stories Mia and Natalie were telling…”
I just nodded again. I didn't think my face could get any redder, but I suspected it had.
"I'm sure it's not that bad," she said, earnestly. She patted my leg. “They were probably exaggerating.”
The memory of that handjob with Natalie, the blowjob from Mia, flashed through my mind. “I, uh, dunno what they said exactly, but it’s been pretty bad,” I muttered.
Denise forged ahead, voice gentle. "Well, you’re in a different place – where you aren’t supposed to be having sex, by the way, but we’ll just table that for the time being. Maybe the taboo of the setting makes it more exciting for you, and that makes you…?”
I shook my head. I didn’t think that was it. “I mean…I’m wondering if it could be something physical, y’know. Like, related to my injuries.”
She shook her head slowly. “I know you mentioned some sensitivity to the doctor, but James, I have to say, that’s really quite unlikely. If it’s not the…hospital setting…could it just be the excitement of getting with Natalie again? Or how unexpected the situation with Mia turned out to be?”
Or how unexpected the situation with Kate turned out to be, I mentally added, glumly. Everyone kept telling me how unlikely it was that it was a medical issue. I shook my head. “I…I see what you’re saying but I just don’t think so.”
“This hasn’t been an issue before now? Not ever? You’re sure?” Denise sounded a little skeptical.
I thought back. I had memories of sex with exes, one night stands, and the like. Sure, some of them had been briefer than others, but nothing like these encounters. “It hasn’t, no.”
“Does something feel different when you’re, y’know…doing it?” Her voice was soft. “More intense sensations, or something? Different thoughts going through your head?”
I could tell she was shifting to a bit of what must be her professional bedside manner: quiet, even, calm. I considered her questions. “It has been…pretty intense, yeah. But maybe they are just really good at, uh…” I mumbled it out, thinking of the way Natalie’s tits had felt on me. I hadn’t stood a chance.
“Okay…” Denise said the word slowly, like she was trying to think it over. “And have you been lasting longer when you masturbate?”
“I, uh, haven’t been doing that, recently. Not since…” I gestured down at the bandages.
She nodded, thoughtfully. “I see. But just to be clear, you finished quickly for Natalie, when she manually stimulated you? And to oral stimulation from Mia as well?” I could hear the incredulity in her voice at the idea that their stories had been true.
I realized that I was getting hard. It was the conversation, coupled with replaying the memories in my mind. Telling Denise how I was cumming quickly, recalling Natalie jerking me off…well, it was turning me on.
I spoke slowly, deliberately, trying not to let embarrassment -- or the arousal I was feeling -- creep into my voice. Just confirming the facts. “Yeah, I was, uh…really quick for both of them. And, uh, I was fast for Kate, too," I admitted. I figured she might as well have the full truth.
It felt, frankly, humiliating to say all of this out loud to Denise. But at least I was getting some advice about it.
She just nodded again, slowly. “Kate as well, hmm?” She stood up. “Well, I’m glad you raised this with me, James. Why don’t I examine you and see if I note anything physically wrong, for starters.” Her voice was carefully neutral.
“I, uh…I mean, Dr. Carlson already ran some tests…” I hadn’t expected this. But I did want her help. “If you think you might spot something she missed, though, sure…” I watched as she went and got some latex gloves, and – first one, then the other – snapped them onto her hands.
She sat back down next to me. “I’ll run a few different tests. Disrobe, please; if you like, you can just pull the hospital gown up and out of the way.” Denise was professional.
My heart was beating fast. Staring at her to watch her response, I slowly unveiled my thick, now-erect, cock.
“I, uh, sorry about, y’know…” I said. I wasn’t sure if she would be offended by my erection, gratified by it, or what.
She stared at my cock for a long moment before making a small, barely-perceptible sound in the back of her throat that could’ve meant any number of things.
“Well, you certainly don’t have any issues with erectile function, do you?” She gave me a smile. “Now, let me know if any of this causes any discomfort.”
As she spoke, she started…well.
Toying with my cock.
Maybe it was some kind of medical assessment. She was at least wearing those gloves, but it certainly didn’t feel medical. She ran a hand along my length, fondled my balls, running her fingers over them. She grasped a hand around the base of the shaft – staring at it as she did so.
I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, couldn’t tell if this was actually an exam or just an excuse to play with my cock. So I didn’t say anything, just bit back the moans I would ordinarily have let out, and enjoyed the sensation.
It felt good. Good enough that I started twitching a little, and after a moment, began to leak precum.
“Ah. Do you ordinarily start leaking pre-ejaculate this quickly, or is this unusual?” She murmured the question out. As she did, she ran a thumb over the head of my cock, smearing the precum.
“I, uh…I’m…not sure…is it...a problem?” I said. Getting the words out was difficult. Her hands lacked the urgency of Natalie’s frantic pumping, but the slow, languid caresses felt amazing.
“Hmm. It is a little fast for that.”
I reddened. There wasn’t mockery in how she said it, but somehow the sober, clinical assessment was even worse than being teased.
“...and as a result, I’d like to test something,” she said. She stood up and I watched her walk away, and return with the same lubricant Natalie had used. “Now, for this test, I’m going to talk about topics and use language that might seem odd for a health care provider. Just trust me when I say it’s for a purpose, and not meant to offend or embarrass you. You know I’m a professional, James.”
I nodded, watching as she applied the lubricant to the latex gloves.
“So Natalie made you cum with a handjob, huh?” The matter-of-fact way that Denise said cum and handjob made me twitch again.
“Yeah, she, uh…she was stroking me really fast, it–ah–”
As I spoke, she reached out, wrapped one lubricated, gloved hand around my cock, and gave me a long, slow pump that cut off what I was saying. I moaned.
“I see. Was it the fast strokes that made you cum so quickly?” She pumped me again, then again, setting a slow but steady, consistent pace.
I was in ecstasy. The pace she was keeping was good, very good, and the combination of lubrication and latex gave a slippery-yet-tight sensation to her grip. I looked at her. She was staring at her hand, pumping my shaft.
The contrast between the clinical tone in her voice and the handjob I was getting left me confused about how to respond. I decided I had better try to keep my composure; I just nodded in response, trying to keep from letting out another moan.
“You’re sure? It wasn’t something else? Her body, maybe? She’s quite attractive…”
Natalie was, in fact, quite attractive. But I shook my head.
“...Or something she was saying? I mean, did she tease you? Maybe talk about how fast she was going to make you orgasm?” Denise’s voice had the same idle neutrality to it.
“I, uh, I don’t, uh, remember –” It was hard to think, and it became harder when her eyes met mine, and I saw the slight flush to her cheeks. She was enjoying this.
“I mean, it’s a simple question, really.” Her tone had nothing but curiosity in it. “She might’ve said things that you enjoyed, brought you closer to orgasm. Maybe she talked about what a nice big cock you have. I mean, it’s so thick in my hand. She could’ve talked about that.”
I gritted my teeth, trying not to let out a moan. Those words coming out of my nurse’s mouth were so hot.
After a moment, Denise just continued. “Or maybe she teased you. That seems like the kind of thing Natalie would do. Tease you about how she’d make you prematurely ejaculate. About how fast your big dick would lose its load for her.”
I did moan, then. I couldn’t help it. Denise looked up at me. Her lips were parted in excitement, but her tone was just questioning. “Oh…did she say something about that? About how fast she was going to make you cum? Maybe she talked about how she likes making big, thick cocks – cocks like this one – explode. Hmm?”
I was fighting off the orgasm, now, thinking about what Natalie had said, the feeling of Denise’s hand. “I–uh–” The relentless pace of her hand, the way she was talking, was becoming too much.
Her voice was still that careful neutrality, but I could see a sparkle in her eye, and a little amusement creeping into her voice, now. “I mean, that would be useful to know, James. If she jerked you off while she told you how she was going to make your big cock cum, that she was just going to pump this big thing until you were spraying ropes everywhere, I mean, that would be an important detail. It might help us to understand why your big dick is just. Cumming. So. Fast.” The final words were each punctuated with one of those slow, thorough strokes.
“God–fuck–” I muttered the words out. She just kept that same even pace, looking at my cock. Each stroke brought me closer.
“Are you getting close? You are, aren’t you. Denise’s voice was all clinical assessment. I just nodded, helplessly.
“Try to stave it off,” she said. “Focus on fighting the sensation.”
I was, but each pump on my cock made it more and more difficult, made the sensation of the impending orgasm more and more powerful.
“Eventually, it’ll become too much, of course…” she said, expectantly trailing off.
She was right. With a groan, it was too much, and I started cumming.
Denise stopped stroking.
I let out an anguished moan at the sudden lack of stimulation on my cock. She angled my cock so that I pulsed a load onto my own hospital gown, but it wasn’t the satisfying orgasm I would’ve hoped for. I let out a whine of frustration.
As my orgasm subsided, she murmured, “Well. Interesting.”
“I-is it?” I managed to ask. I was frustrated.
“Well, just one quick ejaculation is hardly dispositive,” she said, all assured professionalism.
“What do you mean?” I felt dazed, slow on the uptake. This whole situation was so unexpected.
“Well, we’d want to see if this sort of thing happens repeatedly,” she said, reasonably. “That’ll help us determine if it’s something to do with your nerve function. It’d let us rule out a few other possible causes.”
“I…I mean, I told you, I have been—”
“I mean, if it happens when you’re stimulated repeatedly,” she said. Her hand was still idly toying with my length. I was softening, but not much.
“O-oh…uh, okay.” She was going to…do this again?
“So you’ve told me that Mia made you prematurely ejaculate with a blowjob. How did Kate do it?” Her voice was almost a whisper, now.
“She, um…rode me.” I looked away again.
“I see.” Denise’s voice was thoughtful. “And you ejaculated prematurely then as well?”
I nodded, shamefacedly looking away again. The clinical language somehow made it worse.
So did the way I was getting hard again so easily under her hand.
“Hmmm…with Natalie, I believe the idea that she’s just so talented, you couldn’t control yourself,” Denise murmured. “Maybe even with Mia. But Kate?”
“D-do we have talk about this?” I mumbled. Reviewing my recent encounters was just humiliating.
“I can tell it’s embarrassing you, but I’m just trying to get information that might help us get to the root of the problem.” Denise sounded sincere.
She lapsed into silence for a few moments. I was fully hard again, now. She resumed stroking me again, those same long, slow, smooth strokes.
I didn't say anything either, grateful to not have to keep talking about how fast I was cumming. As I looked over at her, not sure what to say, I found my gaze resting mostly on her breasts. Through the nurse’s scrubs she was wearing, outlined against the full, soft curves of her tits, I could see the protruding ridges of her nipples straining against the fabric.
I could feel the blood surge to my cock. She was getting turned on too.
“How long it takes you to ejaculate this second time will tell us a lot,” Denise said, matter-of-factly. She bit her lip, looking down at her hand pumping me.
“H-how long is, y’know…a good sign?” I struggled to ask the question. My cock was hard again, and somehow after the first orgasm it felt more sensitive.
“If I told you, would it help you try to last that long, or make it more difficult?” Denise sounded curious. “Like, if I said that I needed to pump your cock for five minutes without you ejaculating, do you think you’d make it five minutes?”
I let out a whimper and glanced at the clock. I had no idea how long it had taken her to coax that first, ruined orgasm out of me – but it certainly hadn’t been five minutes.
“Maybe it would just intimidate you…make you feel more inadequate,” she mused. “Maybe you’d cum even faster. You’d be trying to last, but you’d get in your own head…”
Now I moaned, and closed my eyes. This was humiliating. Her hand felt incredible. I could tell I was speeding towards a second orgasm.
“I can tell I’m embarrassing you again; we can talk about something else,” Denise murmured, thoughtfully.
“You know, you asked about my dating life earlier, and I told you about how disappointing Rick the investment banker turned out to be. Well, he really seemed to like my tits. On our very first date, he was just staring at them the whole time. I mean, I was dressed to impress, y’know. So I wasn’t exactly surprised. But it probably should’ve been a warning sign.”
“Warning sign?” I could feel myself blushing. I opened my eyes. I had just been staring at her tits.
I opened my mouth to say something further, worried I’d somehow…offended her? It felt silly, since she’d just made me orgasm, but that was just a medical evaluation…
But she just continued before I could say anything. “Yeah. But he was friendly, nice, especially for an investment manager type. Clearly had a lot of money. I hadn’t dated much since the divorce. So I figured, what the hell? And I went with him back to his place. One thing led to another, and we were making out on his couch…”
Her hand continued, as she spoke, pumping up and down my cock. She looked down at it, and so did I, watching those smooth strokes, inexorably driving me towards another orgasm.I tried to fight off the sensation.
“Anyway, I started fondling him through his pants, rubbing him. His dick was okay – not as big as yours is, but decent enough,” she said. “And it was hard, he was so excited…and I was getting excited, too, thinking about the prospect of having sex with him…but then he reached out and started touching my tits…”
As she spoke, she pulled first one of my hands, then the other, to her breasts. Reflexively, I started fondling, squeezing them as she stroked me. Jesus. Her tits were enormous – even bigger than Natalie’s, soft and round. They were heavy enough to sag, spilling over my hands as I touched them. I ran my thumbs over the ridges of her nipple through her clothing – it was hard under my touch, and I felt her give a little shiver in response.
“Anyway, he was probably only touching them for about thirty seconds before he started…well, just cumming in his pants. This guy who manages hundreds of millions of dollars couldn’t keep from blowing his load just from some heavy petting. And then he had the nerve to ask me to stay the night, like I was saying. Can you believe it?”
Denise wasn’t making eye contact with me, though. She was staring at my cock, expectantly.
And I wasn’t considering her question, anymore. The combination of one of those big tits in my hands and her gloved hand, inexorably pumping my cock, had me right on the edge.
“Close again, huh. I can tell.” She said the words neutrally.
I nodded, and then groaned. My cock was sensitive from the first orgasm, and – perhaps because she’d ruined it by stopping the stimulation – I could tell this was going to be another hard one.
“Try to hold it off as long as possible, please. Really focus, to help us evaluate things,” she encouraged. But her hand didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down.
“I’m…I’m trying…” The feel of her breasts in my hands wasn’t helping. I was kneading them now, squeezing hard, as if it’d somehow help me keep control.
She made a little sound as I played with her tits more aggressively. “That’s what Rick started doing when he was about to cum, too, just squeezing my tits. His dick wasn’t nearly as big as yours is in my hand, though,” she whispered.
Well, that was too much for me to hear.
“Denise, I’m – ah, god – nnngh –”
It started as an incredible orgasm crested over me, but it soured quickly. She stopped the stroking again, and I made a strangled, frustrated sound. I helplessly bucked my hips, trying to push my cock against something, anything to get some sensation on it. But it was no use.
My hands dropped away from her breasts and I slumped back, practically writhing with frustration as a second, ruined load pulsed out of me.
There was a moment of silence. The only sound was my panting.
“Hmm. Fast again,” Denise said, pensively.
I let out a helpless grunt of agreement. My cock felt incredibly sensitive, now; almost sore. But she resumed the gentle, fondling touches, and those at least felt nice.
“I have to say, James, I’m becoming more convinced that you might indeed have a physical problem, here.” She said it conversationally, lips pursed.
“R-really?” It snapped me out of my haze. I was taken aback – from the way she’d been talking, I had figured she was judging it to be psychological.
She nodded, seriously. “That second orgasm…well, it shouldn’t happen so quickly, even for a young, fit man like yourself with a short refractory period. Some kind of physical injury maybe – possibly nerve damage from one of the wounds?”
Relief flooded me. “You don’t think I’ve just got some kind of…I dunno, psychological baggage that’s…” I shrugged helplessly, the question I wanted to ask escaping me.
She shrugged. “Well, there might be a mental component to your premature ejaculation, certainly. But a physical injury is possible as well, based on how you’re responding. There’s one final round of testing I’d like to do. It’ll be a little different. The sensation might be…odd, though.”
“Okay, if it’ll help figure out what’s wrong…” I gave her a relieved, hopeful smile. Maybe there was an explanation.
She smiled back. “Well, it won’t be conclusive, but it ought to be enough to convince Dr. Carlson to recommend some scans of the deeper tissue to see if we can figure out what’s wrong.” As she spoke, she brought her other gloved hand up to my balls, and started fondling them alongside my cock. It felt nice – there was a slight, dull ache, probably the result of overstimulation and two back-to-back ruined orgasms – but she was gentle in her touches.
It was taking me a little longer to get erect than it had for the last time, but over the course of the next minute or two, I started to harden again.
She looked down at my cock with approval. “Certainly you’re very physically responsive, no blood flow issues,” she remarked.
“Uh, thanks?” The idea of a real diagnosis, a solution to my sexual problem, had me feeling a little more like myself – ruined orgasms and sensitive cock or not. I gave her a flirtatious grin. “I always have this kind of physical response with attractive younger women like you.”
She snorted, and poked me in the thigh with one latex-clad finger. “Now, just because I told you one little story about how disappointing Rick was, and gave you some help to make sure you were more responsive during the test, doesn’t mean you can get fresh with me,” she chided.
I laughed too, although I cut off into a gasp as she started pumping me again, the same slow, methodical strokes.
“Sensitive, huh?” She gave me a sympathetic wince. “Some soreness is typical after something like this. Don’t worry, this third one shouldn’t take as long as the first two if my hunch is correct.”
That surprised me. “It won’t?”
She shrugged. “Well, we’ll see, won’t we? I don’t want to say more and bias your responses.” She kept stroking me. Her other hand was still on my balls, and she started caressing and fondling them.
“Does every stabbing victim get a three-round test or am I – ah – just lucky?” I tried to make the joke, but the effect was somewhat spoiled by the gasp I let out when she scooped her hand under my balls, cupping them gently.
“Oh, it just depends. We try to offer each patient an experience that’s tailored to their particular needs and recovery.” She gave me a wink.
I nodded, but couldn’t say more; instead, I just groaned. As she pumped my thick length with one hand, she was using the other – the one that was palming my balls – to gently graze her fingers along the underside of my scrotum and my perineum. Her fingers were moving in time with her strokes along my length, and the combined sensation was incredible.
“That…that feels…quite sensitive.” I half-moaned out the words.
“Does it?” I could hear the amusement in her voice now. Her fingers drifted further back, up my pereineum, back between my thighs. I made a questioning, surprised sound as I felt one of her fingers in particular, slick with the lube, probing me.
“Denise, what–” I cut off into a moan as I felt it against my ass.
“Relax. I’m told this can feel…intense.”
And – without further ado – she slid the finger inside me.
I moaned uncontrollably – and then, as she slipped further in – the moan turned into a guttural grunt as I felt a full-body, almost spasming, clench.
And I started cumming.
“A-ah–”
I had never had a prostate orgasm before, and the sensation was so intense it had me speechless; it felt like a normal orgasm dialed up to 11. The contraction of muscles as I ejaculated was so toe-curlingly hard that it almost felt like my groin was cramping up.
Black spots swam across my vision, and I started spraying a load like a geyser.
“Oh–” Denise said, surprised.
She stroked me through it, this time, and it fountained out of me across the front of her scrubs, painting her chest.
I groaned at the sheer relief of finally having a full orgasm. Even with my cock sensitive from so much stroking, the bliss of finally having stimulation as I came was overwhelming.
Shuddering, I lay back, trying to force my body to relax. “Th–that didn’t feel, uh, normal,” I said. I felt completely dazed. My lips felt a little numb and tingly. What the fuck.
Denise gave me a look of grave concern. “Yeah, I think we’ve found the problem. There’s definitely some kind of soft tissue damage. It’s supposed to be intense, but not that sudden and intense.”
I was panting like a racehorse. “I, uh….yeah.” I couldn’t find any other words.
“Relax, big guy.” Denise started to pat me on the shoulder, but realizing her hands were still covered in lubricant, stopped herself and gave me a sympathetic smile instead. “Now that we’ve got some inkling that there’s something physically wrong, we can go looking for it. Maybe an MRI, that kind of thing.”
I tried to get ahold of myself. “Do you think they’d be able to, I dunno, operate?”
She opened her mouth to reply…but the door opened, instead. We both froze, turning. Denise stiffened.
“Hi Denise, hi James. Dr. Carlson sent me by to…check…on…”
It was Mia. She trailed off, taking in the spectacle – my cock, only now starting to soften, Denise absolutely plastered with my cum. It must’ve been quite a sight.
Denise, however, seemed to relax when she realized who it was. Her tone was all business. “Perfect timing, Mia. Come on in and close the door. Help me clean up here. I just finished running some tests on James.”
Mia, who was just wordlessly staring at us, moved into the room hesitantly.
Denise, snapping off the gloves and beginning to clean up the mess we’d made, prattled on about potential nerve damage, about ejaculatory response, about perineal sensitivity, whether any of the knife wounds were deep enough to have nicked the spinal cord, and more.
I was only half paying attention. I was mostly watching Mia to see her reaction. She was standing, eyes darting back and forth between my cock and the front of Denise’s clothes. Her mouth was open.
“Mia,” Denise said, in a no-nonsense tone as she disposed of the gloves. “Help, please.”
Mia, startled, sprang into action, retrieving a hospital gown for me from one of the cabinets. She gave me an intimidated smile and mouthed wow as she took the old one from me to dispose of it.
I relaxed; Mia seemed more like she was intrigued by what had happened than that she was about to whistleblow on some medical ethics violation. “Uh, Denise, d-d’you think they’ll be able to fix it? Surgery or something?”
Denise held up her hands. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The doctors will want to pinpoint what’s wrong first, then they can see how to address it. Now. I’ve gotta get cleaned up. James, we’ll let you relax. Mia, I want to talk to you about what we’re recommending to Dr. Carlson…”
Denise practically dragged Mia, who was still looking back at me, out of the room.
