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Subject: RP: Angel of Mercy    MF
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(Note: I am not the author, only the archivist.

The author's name has come detached from this story.  If you are the
author, please contact me.  I like to see writers get credit for their
work.

This story deals with themes of explicit sex.  If you're too young to be
here, you're too young to read it.  Scram.)



Angel of Mercy


The ICU was exceptionally busy.  Three admissions in four hours.  Two deaths.  
Everyone hassled and racing to get all the work done.  As the only physician I 
was not just writing orders and examining each patient but trying to help the 
three nurses with their chores.  Betty was an old friend whom I had helped 
through three long and painful relationships with young residents.  Soon she got 
through her shift and had to head home to her young son.  Carol was a gorgeous 
brunette and had crushed the hearts of many of the young residents who thought 
they were God's gift to her, only to find she could play them perfectly until she 
dropped them.  Carol would have stayed all night, but she had a hot date and left 
at the end of her shift.  The crisis was that the two night nurses due on at 11 pm 
had both called in sick, and there were no easy replacements.

Thank goodness Bernadette was willing to stay over and work a double shift.  I 
had only met her a few days before as she joined the staff after getting her MSN 
at USC working at LA County and doing her internship at Jackson Memorial in 
Miami.  From a few days observation she seemed about the most 
knowledgeable nurse in the unit, challenging many of the residents about 
fundamental physiology and pharmacology.  She was very dedicated to each 
patient, providing a soothing word, positioning them for comfort, and also 
making each family feel they were the special ones.  And, she would work a 
double shift and save my life, and my patients' lives, that memorable night.

Thank goodness things got quiet.  Carol and Betty had gotten us caught up 
before leaving and with no admissions for a few hours we had gotten everyone 
stabilized.  Bernadette was so kind she was even trying to help with my trauma 
of breaking up with my longterm love, who chose a top faculty position in Seattle 
over staying with me.  For months I had been hurting, lonely, abstinent, and 
hoping she'd change her mind but now getting fewer and fewer calls.  Bernadette 
was very caring and just drew out some of the facts and the pain from me while 
we were working side by side.  I had never talked openly like this before.

All was well until 0327 when Mr. J had a cardiac arrest.  He was 86 years old and 
his family never came to see him, but we had tried to get him over his heart 
attack, but he was failing and had been in a coma.  Bernadette and I decided to 
give him the full court press as he had insisted he wanted to walk out of the 
hospital no matter what interventions we used.  I started the closed chest 
massage while Bernadette gave the epinephrine and got the tube ready.  Then I 
put in the endotracheal tube and got him on the ventilator while Bernadette 
kneeled on the bed and did the cardiac massage.  She did it just right with her 
shoulders over his midsternum, applying enough force to move the sternum 
inward about two inches on each stroke.  That is really hard work and as I was 
reading his ECG and listening to his chest, Bernadette worked harder and 
harder.  I noticed that her knees were getting farther apart on the board we had 
put under Mr. J and that her white uniform skirt, and the beautiful lace slip under 
it, were working their way up her thighs.  

I hadn't thought much about Bernadette as a young lady before, but even in the 
midst of this arrest I realized my colleague was gorgeous, with long slim legs, 
brilliant green eyes, a radiant smile, and a perfect nose.  Soon, no matter how 
hard I worked with drugs and defibrillator to get back Mr. J, I also noticed that 
Bernadette's skirt had worked above the tops of her white stockings and their 
garter belt attachments and that there were hints that she wasn't wearing the 
usual nurse thick white panties.  In fact, I began to see a brilliant red bush.

I was awestruck.  I'd never seen a nurse's sex displayed on duty, although I knew 
that many did not wear underwear under their scrubsuits in the OR.  Well, we 
had done about everything for Mr. J and he wasn't going to make it.  Probably 
his left ventricle had ruptured and filled his pericardium with blood and there is 
no way to fix that.  In any event, seventeen minutes of resuscitation at his age 
on top of his coma had done in his brain.  I thought about prolonging it a little 
longer just to see more of that intriguing red vision that riveted my vision when I 
could look away from the ECG, but that wouldn't be fair and Bernadette was 
getting tired.  So we stopped.  In getting down from the bed, Bernadette pulled 
her skirt up a little higher so I could confirm from the front what I had only seen 
from behind.  Then she smiled, pulled down her skirt, came a little closer, 
complimented me on my management of the arrest, and said she'd like to talk 
about cardiac arrest after we got through our double shift for her and quadruple 
for me.

It took us several hours to clean up Mr. J and get his family in.  They were so 
uncaring they wouldn't come to the hospital when I told them he had taken a turn 
for the worst.  So I had to insist on them coming by telling them I didn't think he 
would make it to morning.  His son and daughter-in-law showed up, grumpy 
about being awakened.  When I told them Mr. J was dead they didn't ask a thing 
about him but attacked me for waking them up when it didn't matter and, they 
said, they could call the undertaker from home.  They were about to hit me when 
Bernadette arrived with a tray of hot coffee and her usual kind words calmed 
them down a little, and probably kept me from getting in trouble, as it isn't good 
form to hit a family member.  I kept trying to remember that it was their problem, 
not mine, and I was the doctor supposed to help.  Oh well.

Thank goodness everything else went well, we got everything in order, and when 
we signed off to the crew coming on at 0700 the ICU was in good shape, even if 
Bernadette and I were tired and a little tattered around the edges.  Her gorgeous 
red hair, usually curled up under her cap, she let down to her waist and it looked 
silky and very fine.  I was headed to home to lick my wounds and get some 
sleep, when she caught up with me and said that it had been such a good night 
that she had really enjoyed working with me and wondered if I'd join her for 
breakfast.

Well, like most ICU staff, our breakfast was several cups of coffee, but her 
apartment was spectacular.  It seems she was an expert on Scandinavian 
handcrafts and she explained that she came from Uppsala and had been an art 
student before going into nursing.  Now she was applying to medical school and 
her MSAT exam scores were incredible-equal to my own of which I was very 
proud.  She sat across the coffee table in a matching sofa and began leaning 
back.  Her knees parted more and more and as she inched forward to sit right at 
the edge of the sofa, her white skirt and lacy slip rose far above her stockings 
and I saw again that bright red bush and even some details within.  She smiled 
when she noticed where I was looking, but I was embarrassed.  She said my 
blush was sweet and showed how sensitive I was.  I just said that it had been a 
long time since anyone had cared.  We talked about my pain and the long 
separation as she squinched forward even more on the sofa.

She understood the pressures arising from my abstinence and shared with me 
that she too was very lonely.  She said that she had been married and had only 
had a few brief affairs before a long marriage that was very painful.  She said 
that he had forced her to have very painful anal intercourse, never stimulated 
her to orgasm, and that when she finally divorced him she had had several 
unsatisfactory affairs with women who, though gentle, had not really fulfilled her.  
For three years she had buried herself in her work and had no relationships at 
all.  At this point she put both stocking feet on the coffee table and leaned back.

I was about to burst.  Ever since we had been resuscitating Mr. J I had been 
pretty excited and semierect.  Since coming to her apartment I had been holding 
things in front of my pants and bending over a lot to avoid showing what a large 
bulge I had.  Sitting on the sofa was a little easier to try to hide it, but it was 
really stretching my pants and making me wonder if I would have a wet dream 
while awake.

She smiled invitingly and seemed to purr.  Well, I didn't want to be forward, but I 
couldn't stand it.  I slipped off the sofa and on all fours crawled over to her side 
of the coffee table and began licking behind her left knee.  She didn't pull away, 
but instead leaned further back and made it easier to get to her knee, then up 
her left thigh while my left hand massaged her right leg.  Soon my head was 
inside her thighs as I kissed and gently licked first left then switched over to the 
right.  She slipped down further, put her hand gently on my head, and urged me 
forward.

It didn't take any urging, as I was eager to explore.  I had seen a few patients 
with a hint of dull red pubic hair, but never in a girlfriend and I'd never seen such 
a brilliant red bush.  Soon my nose was just touching the hairs and I realized how 
very fine and soft they were with a wonderful sweet, tangy, musty odor that was 
overwhelming.  I could see her inner lips pink, pouting, thin, sensuous, and 
closed with a wavy border projecting beyond her pubes.  The tip of my tongue 
soon explored the lower limits of her lips and I ran the tip up and down their 
edges without parting them.  Then, just a little inside, and the taste was 
delicious.  A mirror of the odor.  Pert, musky, sweet, and just wonderful.  
Bernadette was moaning, her legs fell further apart, and her hand on my head 
urged me onward.

Soon I was bold enough to run the tip of my tongue around her vagina.  Just 
pushing on the edge.  Then I worked up to the base of her clitoris.  It just peeked 
out from the lips with a pink tip.  I tongued the base on the left first, then over to 
the right.  Then I tried circling the base.  Her clitoris began to twitch, her hand 
was pressing a little firmer, and her moans indicated I wasn't off base.  Soon I 
ran the tip of my tongue from the base up to the tip and then flicked over the tip 
from left to right, right to left.  Her fingers tightened in my long blonde hair and 
she started rhythmically pulling me to her.

As my lips circled her clitoris and I started sucking deeply, while flicking the tip 
with the tip of my tongue, I eased my right hand up her left thigh and found her 
gorgeous buttocks.  They were small, tight, quivering, and soon I could get down 
the crack to her anus.  My index fingers just found it and started to gently circle it 
on the outside in time with my sucking of her clitoris.

For variety, every few minutes, I'd let my tongue slip up and down inside her 
labia and insert it all the way in her vagina.  My tongue, as well as other parts, is 
long, but it could only get in a couple of inches but enough to expand the 
opening that was very tight and make her squirm.  But she seemed to prefer my 
sucking her clitoris and so I returned to that.  She also was moving her bottom 
and her anus was contracting in time with my finger just pressing around the 
edge and slipping just slightly inside.

She was getting very wet and I was waiting for that subtle change in flavor as 
her special glands secreted their fluid around the base of her clitoris.  That was 
the signal that she was about to orgasm and I wanted to see if she could get up 
to a true plateau and hold that orgasmic and preorgasmic sensation for a half 
hour or more.  I alternated sucking hard and deep and pressing firmly with my 
tongue on the tip of her clitoris with backing off and blowing down the clitoral 
shaft, gently massaging her anus, and reaching up with my left hand to feel her 
breast.

She had already opened her white blouse and undone the front fastening on her 
bra so it was easy to feel her firm breast and its tiny put very erect nipple.  I 
circled it with one finger and then gently squeezed it with three fingers in time 
with sucking her clitoris.  She began arching her back and her pelvic thrusts 
grew more vigorous and faster.  I could feel her anus contracting vigorously and 
then the change to the saltier and somewhat more complex taste as her 
Bartholin glands kicked in.  This was the critical time.  I slowed down on clitoris, 
anus, and nipple and just gently and more slowly kept licking.  She was sighing 
deeply and her hand relaxed a little on my hair indicating I shouldn't drive her 
through her first orgasm.  After three or four minutes her clitoris started twitching 
and I knew she was entering her first orgasm and so backed slightly off and ran 
my tongue between her clitoris and vagina.  I was concerned that her clitoris 
would get too sensitive for me to continue licking it and so I concentrated on that 
special sensitive area where the Bartholin ducts run up to the clitoris.  I call it the 
B spot and not many people know how important it is between orgasms if the 
clitoris is sensitive.  She responded immediately.  As my tongue tip made S 
curves back and forth over her B area and just barely reaching up to her clitoris 
base and down to the upper edge of her vagina, she began to moan more and 
more and rock her hips from side to side as well as back and forth.  Her anus 
was trying to suck my finger in but I kept it just at the edge.

Soon her hand urged me back to her clitoris and I sucked vigorously while 
picking up the pace with either hand.  Her moans, arching, bucking, and hand in 
my hair soon showed that things were going well and she orgasmed a second 
time quickly.  I backed off to her B area but within a minute or two she was 
pushing me back to the clitoris and I thought that we might be on the verge of a 
real plateau.

Well, it really happened.  I couldn't believe how responsive she was.  For forty 
minutes or more she was in an orgasm or just on the edge and never lost 
momentum.  She was wetter than I had ever imagined and my tie and shirt were 
covered with her secretions.  Finally, she gently pulled me back and I realized 
that she had been stimulating her right nipple and running her hand through her 
long red hair.  Her pupils were dilated, her eyes were a little out of sync, she had 
the biggest smile, and she pulled me up to her gorgeous mouth and kissed me 
deeply, sticking her tongue deeply into my mouth.

She held me against her naked breasts and I realized for the first time how large 
and fully supported they were and I saw that erect nipple for the first time.  She 
still had a faint pink rash over her breasts that usually I'd seen just before the 
first orgasm.  She said she couldn't believe it.  She had never experienced such 
orgasms and only reached orgasm occasionally even with her women partners.  
They had tried appliances of various kinds that she didn't like, and her husband 
after a few months had quit even fingering her clitoris and just forced her into 
fellatio and anal intercourse while hurting her.  She was rubbing my face, 
fingering my ears, while kissing me deeply and repeatedly.  She licked all over 
my face, tongued me repeatedly, and then asked what she could do to help with 
the very large bulge she now felt through my pants.  I hadn't even taken off my 
coat so she stripped that off, took off my tie and shirt, pulled my T shirt over my 
head, and started licking and sucking my nipples.  That blew me over the edge.  
I hadn't had sex with anyone but my hands for months.  I had been working hard 
to forget all those urges, but after a few noctural emissions that were really 
messy I had been stimulating myself whenever I felt the urge, which was 
becoming more regular.  Fortunately it had been just two days before or I would 
have had a pantsful of semen.  She undid my belt while kissing the outside of 
my fly.  Then she separated my fly with her fingers, grabbed the zipper in her 
teeth, and inched it down.  I tried to keep myself calm, but it was hard not to 
buck just a little.  With my button undone, my belt open, and my fly unzipped all 
the way, she reached in with her lips and caught my sex in her lips through my 
boxer shorts.  I about melted.  I was so large there was no way she was going to 
get me free of my shorts with her lips, so I encouraged her to work faster.  She 
stripped my shorts and pants off my shoes in one swift pull and there I was in 
shoes, socks, and a massive red erection even without red hair.  That was soon 
corrected as her red hair surrounded me and began bobbing up and down, her 
tongue going around and around, while her lips stretched widely to get over my 
swollen glans.  She made it and was wise enough to keep stimulating the glans 
which was driving me quickly to relief.  As she felt my testicles engorged and 
began gently squeezing them and circling my sex with her fingers, I knew I 
couldn't wait.  Just then she began deep strokes and for the first time I knew 
what deep throat really meant.  Other partners either didn't have the knack or my 
size had intimidated them, but she got all the way to the roots and I could feel 
her contracting on my glans deep in her throat.  That was it.  I exploded.  Never 
before have I felt such an incredible orgasm that went on and on.  She stayed 
with me all the way to the end, gently released my sex, and then tentatively 
raised her head as I rushed to kiss and tongue her deeply.

She just smiled and said that she had never enjoyed it before, but with the 
incredible orgasm I had given her she had wanted badly to see if she could 
reciprocate and had gotten stimulated from my obvious excitement.  She urged 
my hand down to her bush and pushed my finger to her clitoris as she moaned 
and urged me to stroke her.  I had gotten a little limp but this started to 
strengthen me again and I suggested she show me how she masturbated so I'd 
know just what to do.  She said she didn't like to do that and used a shower 
massager but no vibrator, but then fingered her clitoris.  I moved down to watch, 
but she pulled me back up and said she had a better idea.  Grabbing my sex, 
she began to rub its head on her clitoris.  Back and forth across the top and then 
in circles.  She was breathing faster, bent down to kiss and lick my nipples, and 
kept rubbing me on her clitoris.  Soon she pressed me back on the sofa and 
straddled me as she kept my sex working hard on her clitoris.  Then, she edged 
it backwards until it stuck in the opening to her vagina.  Despite how wet we both 
were, it was a tight fit.  She rubbed it around a little and then, spreading her 
knees wide, she forced herself down on it.  As soon as the glans was inside, it 
was easier and she sighed and then started sucking my right nipple wildly as her 
hips started bucking up and down and deeper and deeper.  I was about to die of 
love.  Her long hair cascaded all over my face as I could taste her sex while 
kissing her deeply.  Her gorgeous breasts stroked my chest and she expertly 
alternated up and down strokes with little circles.  Soon her vaginal muscles 
were squeezing me.  I had never felt anything like it and asked how she did that.  
She explained that she had had some pelvic floor weakness that led her to do 
the exercises that tightened her muscles and made them far stronger.  It cured 
her wetting herself when she coughed and I had found, perhaps for the first time, 
that it made her vagina something very special.  She said that she had not had a 
man's sex inside her for years and didn't realize how much pleasure she would 
get from giving pleasure.  She also tilted her pelvis so my shaft rubbed on her 
clitoris on each stroke and soon her breasts were flushed with a light pale fawn 
rash and I knew she was about to orgasm.  She pressed down as far as she 
could and I could feel her cervix pressing on my head and I couldn't hold it any 
more.

That night seemed to last forever.  We took three showers but couldn't get 
through any of them without starting sex again.  We tried every position we knew 
for oral and vaginal intercourse, but neither one of us were into anal intercourse 
and we agreed on everything else.  She shared with me her experiences with her 
women friends and distant memories of a few boyfriends whom she described as 
inexperienced and after a quickie.  She had always been very erotic with 
wonderful fantasies she shared, but had had difficulty in finding pleasure with 
lovers of either sex before.  By morning we hadn't had any sleep, and were fully 
satisfied and sore.  We feel asleep in each others arms, both thinking that we'd 
gone to heaven.

Well, that was how I met my bride.  We've got three children, two with the 
wildest red hair you've ever seen, and we have sex almost every night at least 
once.  My thrill at seeing Bernadette after a long day of work is greater every 
year, and she keeps me excited with just a hint of breast or bush or a breath in 
my ear or a gentle caress of my pants.  We have a perfect marriage, and all 
because of that resuscitation.  She told me she had never done that before, but 
that I had aroused her that night and she cared so much she took off her panties 
just on the possibility that I might see something that would get us together.  
Well that something is all real, no tinting, and over the years it has gotten even 
more fine and red and still tastes like the greatest treat on earth.

-- 






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