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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2012.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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A Nice Paycheck
by Levi Charon (xebpy@mail.com)

***

A paramedic retrieves a young woman from the brink of 
death. They meet again when his own life hangs in the 
balance. (MF, oral, rom)

***

"Ambulance six."

"Ambulance six at Speer and Broadway."

"Ambulance six respond to Le Crepe restaurant at 14th 
and Larimer on a party short of breath."

"14th and Larimer. Copy and en route."

"Watch for Pumper-1 responding with you."

"Copy."

We were less than two minutes away. The pumper crew 
should have the story by the time we arrived. As soon 
as we pulled up I grabbed the bag and headed inside 
with my partner while the firefighters brought the 
stretcher. The Captain met us at the door and reported 
a young female was having an apparent allergic 
reaction and was barely able to breath. When I got to 
her side, she was supine on the floor, wheezing 
audibly, her color was ashen and her lips were 
cyanotic. The firefighters were just getting the 
oxygen on her.

Bending over her so she could see my face, I asked, 
"Are you able to talk?"

She shook her head 'no'. The poor girl was terrified.

I listened to her chest with my stethoscope and 
verified she was barely moving air. Respiratory arrest 
was imminent if we didn't fix it quickly. "What's her 
pressure?' I asked my partner.

"Systolic is 58 and the monitor shows bradycardia at 
32."

Damn, I thought. Her heart's about to poop out.

While my partner was trying to get an IV started, I 
leaned down and took her face in my hands to make her 
look at me. "Miss, my name's Kevin. I'm a paramedic. I 
need to do something to make it easier for you to 
breathe. Do you understand?" Her eyelids were at half-
mast but she nodded her head.

"OK, Miss, listen to me. I'm going to pass a plastic 
tube through your nose and into your airway. It's 
going to be very uncomfortable for you but it's 
important that you don't fight me, OK? As you feel the 
tube entering your nose, just keep swallowing. Do you 
understand?"

She didn't respond at all this time. She was losing 
consciousness and I needed to move quickly. I took a 
6.5 ET tube out of my bag and smeared the end with 
lidocaine gel. Tilting her head slightly forward, I 
passed the tube through the nostril and into her 
throat. She didn't even flinch; she was out. Her 
efforts to breathe were weak but still effective 
enough that by putting my ear to the end of the tube, 
I could follow the sound of her breath to the opening 
to the larynx. On the next inhalation, I pushed it 
through, advanced it down into her trachea and 
inflated the cuff with ten cc's of air. A firefighter 
already had the bag hooked up to the O2 and ready to 
go. I began to inflate her lungs but I was pushing 
against a lot of resistance.

"Her veins are collapsed," my partner said. "I can't 
get a line in her. Should I give her .5 of epi sub-q?"

"I don't think her circulations is good enough to 
disperse it. Give me 10 cc's, I'll push it down the 
tube." I squirted the epinephrine down the tube and 
continued to inflate her lungs. Gradually, the 
resistance eased and I was able to get more air into 
her. I checked the cardiac monitor and saw that her 
heart rate was picking up and was now at 86. As her 
brain began to re-perfuse, she started to wake up and 
began coughing against the tube in her throat.

As her eyes focused on my face I said, "Miss, you're 
starting to breathe better now. Do you understand?" 
She nodded her head.

"I know you don't like this tube in your throat but we 
need to leave it in place until we get to the 
hospital."

Turning to the fire crew, I said, "OK, guys. Let's get 
her into the ambulance. Captain, thanks for you help. 
Good work as usual. Have one of the waitresses put 
this girl's meal in a carry-out carton so we can get 
it analyzed for allergens at the hospital."

By the time we arrived at the emergency department, 
the patient was fully conscious. I gave my report to 
the triage nurse as we moved her into a treatment 
room. The Doc quickly auscultated her chest and 
confirmed she was moving air well and her level of 
consciousness was good. She leaned down to the patient 
and said, "Miss, you're doing OK now. We're going to 
take this tube out and it may make you want to vomit." 
The cuff was deflated and the tube removed without too 
much discomfort.

I breathed a little sigh of relief. "OK, Doctor 
Haddad, I'll go write my report."

"Thanks, Kevin. Nice work!"

The rest of my shift passed without anything nearly as 
intense. I turned the rig over to the next crew and 
headed through the ER on my way to the parking lot. As 
I passed one of the treatment rooms, a hoarse, raspy 
voice called "Kevin!" I looked in and saw it was the 
young lady with the allergy. She was sitting up, 
dressed in one of the hospital's high-fashion gowns 
and looking so much better with some color in her 
cheeks and some life in her eyes.

"Hi! Glad to see you're doing so well. Are they going 
to cut you loose pretty soon?"

"Yeah, when my mom gets here to pick me up." She could 
only speak in a whisper; pretty common after having a 
tube pushed through your vocal cords. "Doctor Haddad 
said you saved my life. I just wanted to thank you. I 
wish there was some way I could show my appreciation."

"You're more than welcome. It's what we do." 

"I know, but I want to say thank you anyway. My name 
is Millie," she smiled holding out her hand. "Doctor 
Haddad told me your first name but she said it was 
against policy to give out full names."

I took the offered hand. "Yeah, it's just a way to 
help keep our work in the workplace. You know, a 
certain level of anonymity. My last name is Mendel. 
What's the allergy that caused all this?" 

"I'm allergic to iodine. I didn't order anything with 
seafood but there must have been some in what I ate. I 
intend to see that the restaurant pays all my medical 
expenses."

"I doubt you'll get much of an argument from them, 
Millie, especially if they're looking at a possible 
big, fat law suit. Well, I'm really happy to see 
you're doing so well. Nothing personal but I hope we 
don't meet again." It's an old joke in the business 
but it gets a laugh anyway. 

I left and headed home by way of the Red Garter bar 
for a couple of beers and some socializing. I was 
hoping Darla, one of the ER nurses would be there. 
We've been close friends for years and sometimes she's 
amenable to a tumble in the hay if I look like I'm 
pathetically in need. We'd been an item at one time 
but wound up deciding mutually that, while we loved 
the sex, living in the same space didn't suit either 
of us. I asked Luis, the bartender if he'd seen her 
and he said she was going to be out of town for a few 
days attending a trauma conference. It looked like a 
quiet night ahead.

***

After my shift the next afternoon, I was on my way to 
the parking lot across the street from the hospital 
when someone called my name. I looked around and saw a 
young lady waving to me as she got out of her car and 
crossed the street. It took me a few seconds to place 
the face... it was Millie, the girl with the allergy.

"Millie! Hi, how are you feeling? I see you got your 
voice back." She was wearing jeans and a pale yellow 
tank top, both of which she filled out very nicely. 
Really a great looking girl with short-cropped black 
hair, beautiful pale blue eyes and a face you might 
see in a fashion ad. Add a few freckles across her 
nose.

"Yeah, just a little sore throat but, believe me, I'm 
not complaining," she laughed. "Kevin, I'm really glad 
I caught you. I was wondering if you'd like to come 
over to my place for dinner some time." She saw the 
hesitation in my face. "Umm, you could bring your 
girlfriend or your wife or whoever. I just wanted to 
show my appreciation somehow."

"I don't have either, Millie. It's not that, but it is 
kind of an ethical dilemma for me. Let me explain. 
What you went through yesterday was a terrible thing, 
physically and emotionally very challenging. It's not 
uncommon for someone who went through what you did to 
feel a strong attachment to anyone who helped them 
through it, but it can make them emotionally 
vulnerable. 

"If it was perceived by anyone that I somehow took 
advantage of that vulnerability, not only would I feel 
terrible about it, I could lose my job. Believe me, if 
I had met you under any other circumstances, I would 
have been wracking my brain to come up with a way to 
get to know you a lot better. I can't tell you how 
much it means to me to hear you express you thanks, it 
rarely happens in this business, but I have to say no 
thank you to your invitation."

She looked just a little bit put out. "Is that a 
rehearsed speech?" she asked mildly.

"No, Millie, it's not. Please don't think I'm being 
patronizing and please don't be angry with me. I 
happen to think you are a very attractive woman in 
every way and the temptation to take you up on your 
offer strains my limits, but it just wouldn't be 
right, not this soon after your ordeal. If you baked 
cookies for me, I'd gladly accept them and share them 
with my partner and the pumper crew who were also 
there to help pull you out of a disaster."

After thinking about it for a few seconds, Millie 
sighed and then smiled. "My dad's a lawyer, Kevin, so 
I've been taught all about 'the perception of 
impropriety'. I can see now how my invitation might 
put you in a tight spot. I just want you to know that 
I'll never forget what you did. Thanks again for 
giving me back my life." She leaned forward and kissed 
my cheek, then turned and ran back across the street 
to her car.

***

A week later I walked into the office to check my 
mailbox before my shift. The Chief saw me come in and 
waved me into his office. "Kevin, that box there on 
the chair is for you. A real knockout of a woman 
brought it in yesterday afternoon and asked me to make 
sure you got it, so, there you are."

"Thanks, Chief. Did she leave a message or say who she 
was?"

"No, but I told her you'd be on duty today if she 
wanted to see you. She said it was too soon, whatever 
that means."

I made the connection immediately and smiled. I was 
sure I knew what was inside, and I was right; two 
dozen scrumptious looking homemade tollhouse cookies. 
There was a note inside the box as well. It said, 
'These are for some very special people in my life. 
Let me know when it's not too soon'. The note had her 
phone number on it. 

When my partner arrived, I gave him six and asked him 
to stop by Fire Station 1 so I could drop a dozen off 
for the pumper crew. A hundred times since I last saw 
Millie, I kicked myself for turning down her 
invitation, but I still knew it was the right thing to 
do. That didn't stop me from fantasizing about her 
every time I felt particularly horny.

When we got to the firehouse, the Captain on Pumper-1 
laughed and said we were too late because Millie had 
dropped off a box of cookies for them as well. What a 
sweetheart.

My day went rapidly downhill after that. Our first 
call was to the east side of the city on a domestic 
dispute with possible weapons involved. These are the 
calls emergency responders dread the most because we 
never have any idea what we're going to walk in on. 
Two police units pulled up to the scene at the same 
time we did. Our policy is to wait outside while the 
police make initial contact and then enter if we're 
needed. 

There was a lot of screaming from inside, then a 
voice, presumably a cop, shouted "Drop the weapon!" At 
the same time I heard the gunshots, the front window 
of the house blew out and I felt like I'd been kicked 
in the chest by a mule, falling back against the side 
of the ambulance. When my partner turned around to see 
what had happened, his eyes got like saucers. "Holy 
shit, Kevin, you've been shot!" I looked down and saw 
a hole had been punched in my white shirt just under 
my right clavicle. The pain hadn't really kicked in 
yet but I knew I was in trouble.

"Shit! Call for a second ambulance, Jerry! And get an 
IV started on me now. And some O2, I'm starting to 
feel a little short of breath." 

Everything moved very quickly after that. The police 
had taken down the shooter and he was dead inside the 
house. The second ambulance had arrived within five 
minutes (although it seemed like an hour) and had me 
in the ER ten minutes after that. I was really happy 
to see Dr. Haddad's face looking down at me in the 
trauma room.

"You're doing OK, Kevin. Your pressure is good and so 
is your O2 sat. You've got a pneumothorax and free 
blood in your chest so, as you know, we're going to 
have to put in a chest tube. Dr. Cohen is on the way 
down to evaluate you and get you ready for surgery if 
that's what they decide to do. Is there anyone you 
want us to call?"

"Umm, not right now. I'll call my mom after the 
surgery when I can give her some good news."

Dr. Haddad leveled one of her infamous disapproving 
looks at me. "I'm a mother, Kevin, and I'm pretty sure 
she might not appreciate your consideration, but I'll 
leave that up to you."

As the anesthetic wore off in the recovery room, my 
shoulder and my chest began to throb. My mom had been 
called in spite of my request and was sitting beside 
me. Her tears splashed on my face when she kissed me 
on the forehead. "Take it easy, Mom. I'll be fine."

"I know, Kevin. I've already spoken to Dr. Cohen. I'm 
just so happy to see you looking back at me and to 
hear your voice."

The recovery room nurse injected something into my IV 
line and said, "This is something for the pain and 
we're going to put you back to sleep now. You'll be in 
the ICU overnight, then we'll move you to a private 
room."

I really did get a private room. Hospital policy was, 
if a private room were available, any cop, firefighter 
or medic injured in the line of duty would get it. An 
even nicer surprise was who was waiting for me when 
they wheeled me in. It was Millie! And damned if she 
wasn't crying too. Between her and my mother, you 
would have thought it was a wake.

Taking the offered hand, I chided, "Hey, take it easy. 
The bullet didn't do nearly as much damage as it might 
have and I'm going to be just fine, OK?"

"Don't be so darned clinical," she came back, 
sniffling. "It's a woman's prerogative to be 
emotional. Jeez, Kevin, I almost died when I heard 
about it on the news. They reported that you had been 
taken to the hospital in critical condition. I came 
right away but they wouldn't allow any visitors to the 
ICU." She leaned over and planted a kiss on my lips.

"Mmm!" I smiled and licked my lips. "That's good 
medicine but you might need to up the dosage."

Mom broke in with a chuckle. "Ahem! I hope I'm not 
intruding on a private moment."

"No, Mom, you're not. This is Millie Carter, a former 
patient and now my friend. Millie, this is my mother, 
Beth Mendel."

"I'm so happy to meet you Mrs. Mendel. Your son may 
not have told you that he truly saved my life last 
week. The news of his injury floored me and I just had 
to come and see him."

"No, Millie, he never talks about his work. I only get 
second hand reports of his good deeds."

I had to break in before it got too deep. "OK, OK, 
ladies, enough already! By the way Millie, thanks for 
the great cookies. I managed to stuff a couple of them 
down before my day went south."

By the time I'd described all the gory details of the 
shooting, I was getting pretty tired. Both of them 
said they'd be back later. A detective from the police 
department came in and took a statement. There was 
nothing I could add that they didn't already know but 
they needed it for the record. I remember thinking as 
I drifted off to sleep that maybe the current 
circumstances might mitigate my earlier ethical 
dilemma.

***

On the fourth day after my surgery, Dr. Cohen came 
into my room while Millie was visiting and said that 
everything looked so good that he'd be happy to cut me 
loose to go home but only if there was someone there 
to watch after me and make sure I stayed relatively 
inactive for at least another week. I'd already been 
up walking for the past three days with a sling 
holding my right arm in place and I was getting 
anxious to leave the hospital. 

Three quarters of the paramedic division and several 
firefighters had visited and, while I was 
appreciative, it was all pretty tiring. I said I 
supposed that I could stay at my mom's house for a few 
days. Millie broke into the conversation and said, 
"Oh, let me do it, Kevin. There's a spare bedroom at 
my place. I've got tons of vacation time saved up and 
I'm a pretty good cook." I was about to graciously beg 
off but when I saw the expectant look in her eyes, my 
resolve faded away.

"Well, Mom does have a business to run so, if you 
don't think it would be too much trouble..."

"No trouble at all. OK, it's settled then. When can he 
leave, Dr. Cohen?"

The good doctor looked at me and then at Millie and 
grinned like a Cheshire cat. "I'll go sign you out 
now. You know what to look for, Kevin, so if anything 
doesn't feel right, get your butt back here on the 
double, OK? Maybe I should add, 'mild physical 
activity only'." Millie went to get her car while an 
orderly provided the obligatory wheelchair ride to the 
hospital entrance. We stopped by my apartment and 
packed some clothes and personal items for my stay. 

Millie lived in an awesome apartment on the twelfth 
floor of a high-rise condo overlooking the park. Her 
spare bedroom was larger than my living room. "This is 
beautiful! I see you live in the upper stratum of 
society."

"My parents do... I don't. This place belongs to my 
dad. He bought it as an investment when property 
prices were going nuts. When the bottom dropped out of 
the condo market, he said he was damned it he was 
going to give it away and said I could live here until 
he could at least break even on it. My own personal 
ways and means are a lot more humble. Like you, I work 
for a living and I never ask my folks for money and I 
insist on paying rent on the apartment. My dad thinks 
it's stupid but I moved out of my parent's house to be 
independent and independent I shall be."

"Good for you. A girl after my own heart," I praised, 
patting her on the shoulder.

"I hope so," she said impishly. "OK, let's get your 
shoes off and you can lie back for a little rest while 
I unpack your stuff. That control there on the 
nightstand will raise and lower the head of the bed. 
I'm guessing that lying flat isn't very comfortable 
for you."

"Thanks, and you right. This will be a lot more 
comfortable than trying to sleep on a stack of 
pillows. If it's all right with you, I'd really like 
to take a hot shower first. I just need a little help 
with this sling and then I can one-hand it from 
there."

She unstrapped the sling and unbuttoned my shirt, 
sliding it off my left arm first and then the right so 
I wouldn't have to raise my right arm. There was still 
a large bruise on the right side of my chest around 
the bullet wound.

"Ooh! That looks sore," she said, lightly tracing her 
fingers around the scabbed-over entry wound.

"Not as sore as it looks. Dr. Cohen actually went into 
my chest through here." I pointed to a one-inch line 
of stitches under my arm. "The bullet was lodged 
between two ribs and only nicked the top of my lung. 
As long as I don't overdo it, everything should be 
good as new in another week. Then it's just a matter 
of getting strength and mobility back in the shoulder. 
You can help me with that by passively moving it 
around three or four times a day."

"You got it! You just show me what to do and I'll do 
it. The shower is right through that door. Are you 
sure you don't need some help with that?"

I arched my eyebrow, Snidely Whiplash-fashion and said 
in my most lecherous voice, "Heh, heh. Don't tempt me, 
Dearie; you might get more than you bargained for."

I finished undressing in the bathroom and stepped into 
the shower, turning the water on as hot as I could 
tolerate it. It felt so good to just stand there with 
the heat spraying on my neck and shoulders. I just 
closed my eyes, hoping she had a huge hot water tank. 
Imagine my surprise when the shower door opened and 
Millie stepped inside to join me holding a little 
plastic stool. I was so flustered, I just stood there 
gawking at her until she started laughing. She had the 
most exquisite body! She was slim without being skinny 
and had perfectly shaped breasts, a classic hourglass 
figure, a dense little triangle of a black bush; a 
total package to die for.

"Kevin, put your eyes back into your head. I'm just 
doing my duty as your nurse. You do need your back 
washed don't you?" I might have taken her more 
seriously if she hadn't been giggling. She set the 
stool down in the middle of the shower. "Turn around 
and sit down so I can wash your hair."

One doesn't stand in the way of a woman on a mission 
of mercy, so I did as I was told, partially because 
the blood flow to my dick was surging and, in spite of 
my willing it otherwise, the old boy was rapidly 
becoming very prominent. She wet my hair with the 
hand-held sprayer and squeezed a big glop of shampoo 
into it, working up a rich lather and rinsing it 
clean.

 Squirting a puddle of body wash into her hand, she 
began soaping my back and arms, being very gently 
around the right shoulder. She reached over me and, 
pressing her beautiful breasts against my back, soaped 
up my chest, getting a birds-eye view of the 
manifestation of my growing sexual excitement. In a 
pitiful attempt at humor, I smiled up at her and said, 
"I, umm, suppose you nurses see this kind of thing all 
the time."

She kissed me on the forehead and breathed into my ear 
in this sexy, Marilyn Monroe-type voice, "Oh, yes Sir, 
but hardly ever such nice ones. Could I offer you some 
help with that? I can see it needs some tending to."

Setting the spray nozzle in its holder, Millie stepped 
in front of me and kneeled down. First, she took my 
face in her hands and planted a long and passionate 
kiss on my lips, teasing them with the tip of her 
tongue. Then, she leaned forward and kissed the wound 
on my chest, trailing her fingers down my belly and 
taking a firm grasp of my turgid cock and slowly 
moving her hand up and down its length.

"Remember, Dr. Cohen said you're restricted to mild 
physical activity for a few more days, so you just sit 
there and relax while I see to your wellbeing." 
Sliding the foreskin over the engorged head, she first 
kissed it, licked it, then took it and about two or 
three inches of the shaft into her mouth. I'd had 
blowjobs before but this just seemed extra special. 

The fingers of my left hand combed through her wet 
hair and caressed her shoulders while my right hand 
gently massaged her breasts. Her mouth slid down, 
taking what it could of my cock and swirled her tongue 
around the head every time she came back up, pumping 
the rest of my length with one hand while she caressed 
and massaged my balls with the other.

"Millie, I'm not going to last very long at this 
rate." My breathing was already ragged and I could 
feel my balls pulling up against my crotch.

She turned her adorable face up to me and smiled. "I 
know. This is just to take the edge off. We'll have 
plenty of time for longer therapy sessions as you get 
better." She took my cock back into her mouth and 
began working it over with enthusiasm, bringing me to 
an intense orgasm within a minute. "There you are," 
again in her Marilyn Monroe voice, "I hope that makes 
you feel better, Sir."

"You'll never know, you sweet thing. When do I get to 
make you feel better?"

"In due time, good Sir, in due time. Now let's get you 
dried off and into bed for a little nap."

***

Millie turned out to be a competent nurse and physical 
therapist. She helped me improve the range of motion 
of my right shoulder and arm with passive movement and 
wasn't the least bit intimidated by my groans and 
complaints. Every morning before breakfast, we took 
the elevator down to the pool and exercise room for a 
one-hour workout that included weights (as much as I 
could handle) and a water aerobics routine. She wasn't 
about to let me get soft and flabby lying around on my 
backside in front of a television.

Of course, my favorite exercise regimen was the sex; 
each session was more vigorous than the one before. We 
made love in her bed but I still slept in mine to keep 
my upper body elevated. 

Our first night was a major test of my restraint. 
She's so sexy and desirable that I just wanted to 
ravage her. After a tasty dinner of stir-fried veggies 
over brown rice pilaf and a nice white wine, we took a 
long walk through the park, laughing at everything 
whether it was funny or not and exploring each other's 
pasts. 

Back at the apartment, she put on some nice music and 
massaged my back, neck and shoulders while we 
continued our idle chatting. I can't, for the life of 
me recall what we talked about but it really doesn't 
matter since our soul objective was just to be 
together. Around ten, she took my hand and said, "How 
about we get really personal for a while."

I stood by the bed as she first lit a couple of 
candles and turned off the lights, then took her time 
stripping me bare, one item at a time. She started by 
unstrapping my sling. Each button of my shirt that she 
unbuttoned was an occasion for a little kiss on the 
lips, and each button on my Levis was an occasion for 
a little kiss on my belly. After I was bare-assed 
naked and obviously ready for business, she strapped 
the sling back on. 

 "I don't want you reaching out and hurting yourself 
in the heat of passion. I'm the boss here so I get to 
select the program and set the pace. Agreed?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" I couldn't help laughing. "Could we just 
get on with it, please?"

With her two hands aided by my one free hand, we got 
her naked as well. In this case, each article of 
clothing we dropped on the floor was an occasion for a 
little kiss on her lips, then her breasts, her belly, 
her tush and her bush, in that order. She sat on the 
edge of the bed and leaned back, spreading her legs to 
give me a full view of what I lusted after and 
taunted, "Are you feeling up for a little dessert?" 

"As you can plainly see, Ms. Carter, I'm very 
definitely up." I knelt on the lush carpet and slid my 
left hand under her butt, pulling her to me as I 
buried my nose in her sex and inhaled a musky aroma 
that had just a hint of something fruity about it. 
Peaches. She inhaled sharply as my tongue slid up her 
moist, erect labia and teased her clitoris. 

"Yummy," I growled, "This has got to be the best 
dessert ever." Pressing my face into her and 
assaulting her enthusiastically with my tongue sent 
her soaring to her first orgasm of the night within 
minutes, accompanied by a series of little moans and 
reaching a crescendo in a long, vocal sigh of passion, 
drenching my face and the sheet underneath her in her 
juices.

"Oh, Mr. Mendel," she gasped, "You are true to your 
profession. If that couldn't bring someone back from 
the brink of death, nothing could! Get up here, Sir 
and take your medicine!"

It was almost a shame to break the spell, but I had to 
say it. "Uh, I don't have any condoms, so I'll need to 
pull out before I come."

"Like hell you will! I'm on the pill and have been 
since I was sixteen. I want to feel you buried up to 
my belly button when you unload, Buster." The only way 
my grin could have been wider is if my mouth had been 
surgically altered.

'The Boss' positioned me on my back and straddled my 
waist. "This is going to be the slowest fuck you've 
ever experienced, Mr. Mendel, so get comfortable, 
close your eyes and get ready for a little bit of 
down-and-dirty sex.

The girl doesn't tell lies! Beginning with a long, wet 
kiss complete with dueling tongues, this vixen 
convinced me she could have trained aspirants to the 
most high-class brothels in the world. A continuous 
bounty of little kisses, licks, nuzzles and finger 
strokes while she slid her slippery sex over a penis 
straining to attain even greater size held me in a 
state of passion that words simply cannot do justice 
to. 

Over the next hour, I don't believe there was a 
reachable spot on my body she didn't lick or caress. 
As she moved down my body from my face to my chest 
then my belly, she moved her body and rolled her 
shoulders so that her breasts were always moving 
across some part of me. I was reminded of a mother cat 
cleaning her kittens, the way she covered me with her 
tongue. 

Every time I thought she was going to take hold of my 
cock or lick it, she moved somewhere else, driving me 
crazy with lust. After a quarter of an hour of this 
merciless teasing, she turned around, presenting me 
with a perfect view of where I wanted my cock to be 
and began her mother cat simulation from my toes 
upward. As she moved up my legs, I managed to get in a 
few licks of my own as her swollen sex passed over my 
face. Somehow she managed to never break the spell by 
touching or bumping my right shoulder. 

When she finally reached my groin, she reversed her 
position again and lay her breasts on my legs, licking 
the highly sensitive area under my balls and then 
sucking them into her mouth one at a time as her soft 
little hand encircled my penis and moved up and down 
at an agonizingly slow pace.

The moment came for her to take me inside her. Our 
eyes locked and she grinned, "You're peeking, Mister."

"Can't help it, Lady. You have to be experienced with 
all the senses."

My perfect angel rose up onto her knees and guided my 
cock to her dripping, steamy opening and very slowly 
settled herself, letting me ease into her until I was 
stretching the farthest end of her vagina. There she 
sat, not moving up and down even a half inch, but 
rhythmically squeezing me with her vaginal muscles for 
several minutes. 

Our eyes remained locked as she finally began to slide 
up until I almost slipped out, then down again, taking 
nearly my entire length, repeating this movement at a 
glacial pace. Every time she felt me tensing up and 
moving against her, she would stop and kiss me until 
the moment passed, then begin again.

At long last, she leaned down and whispered in my ear, 
"OK, Sir Kevin, my true knight in shining armor, you 
can let it go now." Her hands on either side of my 
head, Millie began riding my cock, gradually picking 
up the rate and bringing my sense of urgency to a 
fantastic high before we both exploded in orgasms that 
defy description. She lay on my body as we tried to 
catch our breath, her vagina refusing to let go of my 
gradually softening member.

Kissing my eyes, my nose, then my lips, she gave me a 
little pixie grin and asked, "Having any sense of 
'perceived impropriety' now?"

"Not a one, Miss Carter. There's no way in hell what 
you just did to me could be considered improper; 
exquisite torture, maybe, even sinful in the best 
possible way but never improper. If that's openers, I 
can't even wrap my brain around what the future holds. 
You just wait until my body is fully functional again. 
Maybe I'll give you a lesson or two in truly 
lascivious sex."


***

A month earlier I would have never believed how much 
my world was going to change. I'd met a woman who felt 
like the soul mate everyone hopes for. I'm not naïve, 
I know nothing is forever but Millie and I seemed so 
intensely attracted to each other it was hard to 
imagine us not being together.

The gunshot to my chest illuminated a sense of my own 
mortality that most people my age rarely experience. 
It certainly was cause for me to re-evaluate where I 
was and where I was going in my life. All creatures 
occasionally experience events affecting the direction 
their lives are moving; I'd had two of those within a 
week.

After I graduated from the University of Colorado, I 
still hadn't decided what I wanted to be when I grew 
up. I knocked around from one thing to another and 
just sort of fell into the emergency medical field, 
mostly attracted by the romantic notion of saving 
lives and making the world a better place. Like all 
newbies in the biz, it didn't take me long to learn 
that most of the work is routine and drudgery. Still, 
I enjoyed it and worked hard to be as good a medic as 
I could be. 

Now things were changing. Two weeks after my injury, 
the Chief called me and asked me to come in and see 
him. I wasn't sure what he had in mind but I knew we'd 
have to decide when I could come back to work. When I 
walked into his office, I was surprised to see Dr. 
Berman, out medical director there as well.

The chief started off, "Hey, Kevin. How's the recovery 
coming along?"

"I'm doing well, Chief. The shoulder is still weak but 
I exercise it every day and I should be up to full 
strength before long. If you're wondering when I can 
come back to work, Dr. Cohen and I think maybe a 
couple of weeks. Does that work for you?"

The Chief smiled and looked at Dr. Berman who picked 
it up from there. "Kevin, the Chief and I have been 
looking over your personnel file and we both feel we'd 
like you to take over his position when he retires 
next month. Do you think you might be interested?"

That was a bolt from the blue. "Me? You want me to be 
the new Chief? How would that go down with the other 
paramedics? You know I'm only twenty-seven years old 
and I've only been with the division for five years. I 
can think of at least a half dozen people who would do 
a great job."

"We've given it a lot of thought and we feel you'd do 
the best job. And yes, those are some of the issues 
you'd have to deal with. Of course, the position has 
to be announced and opened for all applicants but 
everyone I've spoken to feels you're head and 
shoulders above any competition. So, would you be 
interested in applying?"

"Well, I'm interested, sure, but would being Chief 
take me off the ambulance?" Being an administrator had 
its advantages but I wasn't sure I wanted to give up 
street medicine.

"Not entirely. We're going to make it policy that the 
Chief works at least one shift a week on the ambulance 
to keep his or her skills sharp. More if they can work 
it into their schedule."

"Dr. Berman, Chief, I really appreciate the offer. Can 
I give you an answer in a couple of days? I'd like to 
talk it over with some other people before I make a 
final decision."

"You take your time, Kevin. We'd like to keep this 
conversation quiet for the time being so we don't stir 
up any unnecessary rumors. If you need more 
information to help you make up your mind, you can 
call either of us."

On my way back to Millie's condo I was thinking how 
life changes seemed to come in clumps and this could 
be another big one. If I took the position as Chief, 
my salary would almost double and that could 
facilitate a couple of other big events stirring 
around in my brain. I'm not the kind of guy who is 
inclined to make rash decisions but, by the time I 
pulled into the parking garage, my mind was made up. I 
could hardly wait for Millie to get home from work.

When she walked in the door she sniffed the aromas 
coming from the kitchen, "Mmm! Something smells good." 
I'd baked a lasagna absolutely gooey with cheese and 
was ready to pop the garlic bread into the oven. I had 
created a salad with artichoke hearts, the wine was 
breathing and the table was set with the good china. 
"What a nice surprise! What's the occasion?"

"Well, tomorrow I'll be going back to my own 
apartment. It's a 'Thank you' for making my recovery 
so much fun. That and one or two other things I'll get 
to later. How was your day?"

"It felt good to be back at work except they really 
didn't share my work among the rest of the staff while 
I was gone; they just saved it all for me so I'll be a 
few days catching up." She came up behind me and gave 
me a big squeeze, letting her hand slide down and rub 
the front of my jeans. "Is this going to be my 
dessert?"

The kitchen was cleaned and the dishes were in the 
washer. "How about a nice soak in the spa, Ms. Carter. 
There's something I want to discuss with you and I'd 
like us to be all hot and naked."

"Sounds intriguing. Last one in is a rotten egg," she 
laughed over her shoulder as she dashed toward the 
bath, pulling her top over her head. By the time the 
spa was filled and bubbling from the water jets, we 
were naked, charged up and ready for action. The 
conversation had to wait while we smooched, touched, 
explored and finally settled into a nice, soft screw 
with her straddling me and settled onto my cock, 
moving just enough to keep the old boy at rigid 
attention.

"OK, Sir Kevin," she sighed, "What's the topic of this 
'discussion'?"

"Lady Millie, would you consider going off the pill?" 
I rubbed my hands up and down her back and kissed her 
nipples.

She leaned back and looked at me with a big question 
mark on her face. "Not until I'm fully committed to a 
relationship; preferably married. Um, is there 
something else you'd like to ask me?"

"Oh, yeah, there is. I was wondering if you would 
consider marrying me and if we could have a baby. Or 
two."

END

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
It's okay to *READ* stories about unprotected sex with
others outside a monogamous relationship. But it isn't
okay to *HAVE* unprotected sex with people other than
a trusted partner. 4-million people around the world 
contract HIV every year. You only have one body per 
lifetime, so take good care of it!
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Kristen's collection - Directory 73