Tickled Pink

Trish was the reason I was sitting in a pair of gray shorts on a cold metal table in a dimly lit room with a nurse kneeling in front of me. Really, I had a lot to thank her for, I reasoned, watching the blonde's head tilt back and forth as she attached little sticky circles all over my body. She was a tall, cool drink of water, that one, just a young thing, in her late twenties at the most-just the barest hint of crow's feet when she smiled, and what a smile!

"Okay, Mr. Harris," she murmured, fixing one of the sticky circles to my thigh. "I think that just about does it. Now we have to hook you all up."

"You can call me Charlie." I watched her pull several leads over that were attached to some sort of machine. "Is this gonna hurt?"

"No." She smiled, snapping wires onto the metal connectors plastered over my chest.

"Well, Charlie, I'll be honest with you… it might hurt a little when we take these off you."

"I bet." I watched her kneel again between my legs as she started threading leads through my shorts. "Especially in those… ah… sensitive areas…"

"Yes." She smiled, her pale cheeks flushing prettily. That did it. I was a goner.

"So are you married, Ms. Anne Miller?" I asked, reading her name tag. "Any kids?"

"Yes," she replied, her full breasts brushing my thigh as she leaned around to untangle a wire. "I'm married, but no kids."

I nodded, looking down the curve of her hip as the top to her scrubs pulled up a little, revealing a band of flesh at her waist. Damned scrubs-why didn't nurses dress like stewardesses anymore? Oh right, flight attendants. Times change, I guess. Not always for the better. Still, in spite of the shapeless scrubs, her body filled them out nicely in all the right places. And no kids! No stretch marks, no flabby tummy. My mind wandered to all the wrong places.

"I've got three," I told her. She looked up at me and gave me that polite 'Is that so?' smile people always use during small talk. "I think I've got a daughter about your age. She's twenty-three."

"Oh goodness, do I look so young?" Anne laughed, although I was thinking of her as Annie, for some reason. Little Annie. Charlie, you're a very bad man, said the angel on my left shoulder, but I was too busy paying attention to the angel kneeling between my legs. Goddamn, but she was stunning.

"It would be impolite of me to ask…" I lifted one of my legs so she could attach another lead.

"Twenty-nine." She snapped it on and tugged gently on one of the wires.

"Although I start aging backwards at thirty. Whoops, I think we lost one."

She cocked her head again, her eyes staring off into the distance as she felt for the lead higher up on my thigh, and I started wishing I'd worn underwear, because even without my Viagra, this girl was giving me a woody. Just watching her little pink tongue sneak out to the corner of her mouth as she concentrated, snapping the lead back in place, and the soft touch of her hand on my thigh as she pulled the wires through, was apparently enough. I was already at half-mast and rising.

"Okay, now the other side," she murmured, snaking her hand up the leg of my shorts and feeding the wires down under the elastic band.

"So, this sleep apnea thing," I said, trying to distract her, and myself, as she felt along my leg for the little circle. I was praying she didn't find my cock instead-except part of me was hoping she would. "Is it serious?"

"It can be." She nodded, her eyes meeting mine, and she pushed a stray lock of blonde hair behind her ear, snapping another lead in place. She worked her way down that leg, bending over slightly to get the last, her hair hanging in her face again, and I admired the swell of her behind in her scrub pants. Maybe scrubs weren't so bad after all.

"Well, I hope I pass the test." I watched her adjust the wires.

"Hm, this seems tight." She tugged at the leads attached to my legs. I jumped, managing not to gasp out loud. In all her feeding of the wires through my shorts, they had managed to find their way around my ever-rising cock and even underneath my tightening testicles. "Are they caught somewhere?"

Oh Christ.

"Stand up,” she said, still on her knees and looking up at me. "Let's free you up, here."

There wasn't anything else to do. I stood, thankful for the first time in my life for my average five inches now being pulled down by the weight of the wires. She was tugging again, and when she pulled aside one leg of my shorts to take a peek, her eyes widened just slightly, a small smile creeping over her face.

"Ah." She slipped her small, soft hand up my thigh. "I see the problem."