A Hospital Story 2

“Are you frightened at all, Keith?” she asked, and as she spoke she gently rested her arm on the bed next my leg and delicately began a slow pat on my thigh with her beautiful hand.

“No, I’m not frightened, I just want it all to be over,” I said (at least all the surgery stuff - this casual affection and leg patting was just fine!)

“Well, there is one more thing I have to explain tonight - your procedure requires that the incision site be free of possible contaminants and your system clear. Do you know what that means?” she asked, and as she spoke she leaned in closer. Her perfume was intoxicating and smelled of gardenias, her hair reddened as she caught the overhead lights and flashed an auburn fire, her skin was almost translucent and so perfect that any makeup would only detract from her flawlessness. She moistened her full red lips with the tip of her tongue, rested her hand slightly higher up on my thigh (so close that I knew she would feel without looking the stretching of the thin blue blanket as it rose with the stiffening of my penis) and said, “That means I will have to shave you and evacuate your bowels by enema early tomorrow morning.”

Her elegant hand traced its way further up my thigh, as she stared straight into my wide open eyes as I contemplated what that meant. Her palm rode right up over the tent-like rise at my crotch and she stopped as she gently cupped my scrotum and erect penis in her palm and she said, “Don’t worry, Keith, I know what I am doing here ( she softly rubbed the shaft of my penis through the blanket ) and I won’t cut off anything important !” And with those words she gripped my shaft and squeezed softly, released her grip, gave me two quick little pats and reached back into her lap for the chart.

All this time, a bolt of sexual electricity was rocking my immature body. I couldn’t believe what this beautiful creature had just done and how casually she had done it - as if merely to reassure not to arouse - unaware (or possibly TOO aware) of the effect of her nurturing gesture. I was glad she stopped when she did otherwise I would have exploded under her touch, but at the same time I sure wished she would have continued! I couldn’t figure out if I was more aroused or embarrassed at my obvious arousal - she certainly paid no apparent attention to my condition.

Afraid to respond or even more I chanced a quick glance at her out of the corner of my eye. Her head was tilted down as she wrote in the chart and as she wrote, without looking up she said, “I will be in around seven in the morning after early rounds and take you down to the treatment room. I will prep you for the procedure by shaving your lower abdomen and then I’ll complete the enema evacuation and you’ll be ready for surgery.”

She closed the chart, put her pen in the pocket at her waist, folded her hands in her lap and looking, again directly at me she spoke (as if she had been reading my mind!) “Keith, honey, don’t be ashamed or embarrassed by your arousal, I have seen lots of them. It is perfectly normal and understandable.” She stood and leaning over closer (oh, that fragrance!) continued, “its my job to make sure you are ready for surgery and completely relaxed.” She slowly stretched out her hand again to my now softening member and traced a couple of circles over my crotch with her index finger and then again rested that soft gentle hand right on top of my penis and smiling with her whole face, she squeezed again and said, “Completely relaxed, Keith - trust me!”

She had not even made it to the door of my room before my mind began the painful analysis of all the options as to what she meant by that last statement. I was not a complete sexual novice, but never had anything ever happened to me that was this exciting, certainly a WOMAN had never touch me before, particularly one as elegant and entrancing as this one. My mind raced to explore the possibilities, and it was then that it finally dawned on me, something she had said that I had not taken too much notice of at the time because I was intensely distracted by that lovely hand wrapped gingerly around my penis.

AN ENEMA !?!?! God, it had been years since I had something like that forced on me, I did remember the experience with fondness, nor did I look forward to the one tomorrow with relish, in spite of the administrator. I began to think back and all I could remember was initial discomfort, embarrassment and then actual pain and humiliation. How could I let Erin do something like that to me ?

I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I remember was a hand on my shoulder telling me it was time to take my vital signs. I woke with a start, my thoughts picking up instantly where I had left off last night contemplating the dreaded enema. I glanced at the clock on the wall - it read 5:30 am - at least I had a while to figure out how to avoid this intrusion. I tried to come up with excuses that might delay or even prohibit such a treatment, but to no avail.

Then unexpectedly, the door open and my parents came in. “They told us you weren’t still asleep, “ Mom said, “so we just wanted to drop in and visit a little while before you had to go downstairs.” I tried to sound cheerful and upbeat and really I wasn’t scared of the surgery so much as the pre-surgical trauma I was sure to undergo at Erin’s lovely hands. I don’t remember too much about their visit but Mom and Dad rose abruptly and mumbled something about my seeming distracted and wished me luck, then kissed me and said they would be waiting in recovery and probably I could use some time alone. I looked immediately at the clock.

THEY HAD BEEN THERE ALMOST AN HOUR!!! I didn’t remember ten words I had said to my parents in that time, and now Erin would soon be here. What was I going to do? Maybe I could assure her that I had recently visited the bathroom and she was wasting her time?

No, that would never work. I would just have to think harder. I threw back the covers, slipped on my paper shoes, and walked into the bathroom thinking I would at least make this as easy on myself as possible. After eliminating what I could, I took off my own pajamas and stepped into the shower. I dried myself and eyed the cheap, flimsy open-backed gown that I was to wear the remainder of the day.